Season 3 Episode 2 - The Price of Pleasure

[Christopher McIntyre]

[The Oasis - Lobby]

This was the kind of mission Chris had been praying for every day he was drafted back into the circus they call Starfleet. Rest, relaxation and, unlike Starfleet and their Federation morals standards, any type of pleasure one could want. Drugs, alcohol, women and that was only the surface.

The tapping of his cane could be heard as he slowly made his way to the front desk. "McRib, reservation Room 2356" he said, leaning on the counter "Let's skip the small talk and just get this out of the way, lad" he said as the man on the other side of the counter shook his head and handed Chris a key.

"Just send another one up to the room. Might have some company later!" he said as he limped towards a group that was partway to the bank of lifts.

[Passageway]

"My fashion sense might be a little old for her, but I'd love to help out," Judy answered. Far be it from her to pull the corgis away from a new friend without a good reason.

Judy nodded as she heard the message.
"Well, let's worry about it at the hotel," she suggested. With a rapid step, she led the group.

[The Oasis, Lobby]

With her attire and features, Judy was rather more similar to a typical customer here than the Pakled. She confidently strode up to the check-in counter, at the stand next to the Pakled, and then deployed her ultimate weapon of disguise - an accent.

"Bonsoir, ma cherie. I gon' need tree of dem dere rooms you got in dis here hotel, for maself and for mes amis," Judy shot off rapidly, in a heavy Cajun accent.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" the Orion manning it asked. It seemed like the universal translator was glitching, because whatever this woman was speaking wasn't any known language.
"Tree rooms, I don' said. Dat's when you go an' take one room an' anoda room, an' den you go an' take one more room an' add dat to dem dere rooms you 'ad before," Judy explained slowly, her Cajun accent growing more irritated.
"Ah. Three rooms. Sorry. Your name, ma'am?" If not for the fat purse, this accented woman would not have been worth the hassle.
"Da name's Judi Bourdreaux," Judy answered, improvising a French surname on the spot. The fact that she resorted to the namesake of Bourdreaux's Butt Paste was sure to give her a laugh later. "Don't go an' wear it out."
"Rooms 2335, 2339, and 2415, ma'am," the Orion answered, handing Judy three newly-replicated keycards.
"Merci beaucoup," Judy answered. "Alors, we got' go to dem dere rooms an' get on wi' our affairs."

As she motioned for Leanna and Lyric to follow along to the elevator, Judy exhaled sharply. This accent was tiring.

"You'd think they wouldn't put a cripple ABOVE THE GROUND FLOOR" he said, ending his sentence by yelling back towards the desk. "Buncha bloody brain dead pillocks they are."  he mumbled as he caught up with the group he had seen from the front desk "Hello total strangers who I totally don't know, Dr. Johnson Richard McRib IV at your service"

[Leanna Mazal]

[Passageway]

"My fashion sense might be a little old for her, but I'd love to help out," Judy answered. Far be it from her to pull the corgis away from a new friend without a good reason.

Judy nodded as she heard the message.
"Well, let's worry about it at the hotel," she suggested. With a rapid step, she led the group.

[The Oasis, Lobby]

With her attire and features, Judy was rather more similar to a typical customer here than the Pakled. She confidently strode up to the check-in counter, at the stand next to the Pakled, and then deployed her ultimate weapon of disguise - an accent.

"Bonsoir, ma cherie. I gon' need tree of dem dere rooms you got in dis here hotel, for maself and for mes amis," Judy shot off rapidly, in a heavy Cajun accent.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" the Orion manning it asked. It seemed like the universal translator was glitching, because whatever this woman was speaking wasn't any known language.
"Tree rooms, I don' said. Dat's when you go an' take one room an' anoda room, an' den you go an' take one more room an' add dat to dem dere rooms you 'ad before," Judy explained slowly, her Cajun accent growing more irritated.
"Ah. Three rooms. Sorry. Your name, ma'am?" If not for the fat purse, this accented woman would not have been worth the hassle.
"Da name's Judi Bourdreaux," Judy answered, improvising a French surname on the spot. The fact that she resorted to the namesake of Bourdreaux's Butt Paste was sure to give her a laugh later. "Don't go an' wear it out."
"Rooms 2335, 2339, and 2415, ma'am," the Orion answered, handing Judy three newly-replicated keycards.
"Merci beaucoup," Judy answered. "Alors, we got' go to dem dere rooms an' get on wi' our affairs."

As she motioned for Leanna and Lyric to follow along to the elevator, Judy exhaled sharply. This accent was tiring.

[Red Phoenix/ Oasis Lobby]

Lea appreciated Judy's response to her offer of joining them and even though the older woman claimed that her fashion sense might be a little old for Lyric but had a feeling her input would be very welcomed and useful. However before they could move on to Lea's quarters, the call came from the Bridge that they had landed and agreed with Judy that they could deal with it at the Hotel.

This meant that they wouldn't arouse suspicion if they didn't check in as planned so followed Judy as she led them off the Phoenix and into The Oasis Hotel. Now it was time for her to become Maura Brahms as Judy approached the front desk and spoke with the employees behind it. Recognising the accent she adopted as the staff tried to make sense of it, allowing Lea to check out their surroundings. Noting that they weren't the first to arrive but kept to her cover as Judy was then handed their key cards.

Again following as she motioned them to join her and walk to the elevator. " If we check out our rooms first then we can help Lyric with her outfit" she suggested in a tone that only Judy and Lyric would be able to hear as they continued towards the elevator.

[The Oasis - Lobby]

"You'd think they wouldn't put a cripple ABOVE THE GROUND FLOOR" he said, ending his sentence by yelling back towards the desk. "Buncha bloody brain dead pillocks they are."  he mumbled as he caught up with the group he had seen from the front desk "Hello total strangers who I totally don't know, Dr. Johnson Richard McRib IV at your service"

They were soon joined by another familiar face who after yelling back towards the desk, caught up to them and introduced himself, unsure what to make of what he had said at first but luckily there weren't too many people about.

" It's good to meet you Dr McRib, I'm Maura Brahms" she replied politely.

[Judith Eastman]

[The Oasis - Lobby]

This was the kind of mission Chris had been praying for every day he was drafted back into the circus they call Starfleet. Rest, relaxation and, unlike Starfleet and their Federation morals standards, any type of pleasure one could want. Drugs, alcohol, women and that was only the surface.

The tapping of his cane could be heard as he slowly made his way to the front desk. "McRib, reservation Room 2356" he said, leaning on the counter "Let's skip the small talk and just get this out of the way, lad" he said as the man on the other side of the counter shook his head and handed Chris a key.

"Just send another one up to the room. Might have some company later!" he said as he limped towards a group that was partway to the bank of lifts."You'd think they wouldn't put a cripple ABOVE THE GROUND FLOOR" he said, ending his sentence by yelling back towards the desk. "Buncha bloody brain dead pillocks they are."  he mumbled as he caught up with the group he had seen from the front desk "Hello total strangers who I totally don't know, Dr. Johnson Richard McRib IV at your service"

They were soon joined by another familiar face who after yelling back towards the desk, caught up to them and introduced himself, unsure what to make of what he had said at first but luckily there weren't too many people about.

" It's good to meet you Dr McRib, I'm Maura Brahms" she replied politely.

[Lobby->Lift]

Judy found the man's name to be more than ridiculous, and couldn't internalize that.

"Ha ha ha ha," she laughed, before remembering that she's supposed to be a Cajun. "Hon hon hon hon hon," she continued laughing in a more Cajun manner. "Dat is uh, da very funny name dat you 'ave dere, monsieur."

Once they were inside the lift, Judy pushed forward with her interrogation, in full accent.
"So, monsieur, we all know dat dis is not da real name, n'est-ce pas? Dat's as plain as da tail on dem crawfish in da bayous. So, doctor, tell dis here ol' lady, dat's me, what's dat dere real name you don' gon' an' lied to dem dere hoteliers about?"
Judy had a creeping feeling, from Leanna's familiar reaction to the man, that he was one of them. However, she didn't feel quite confident enough in that to drop her accent.

[TRell]

[Red Phoenix]

T'rell stuck close to the Captain and the Security Chief, Starfleet standing orders were clear, and as the highest, non command rank Security officer on the away team she intended to keep as close as possible to as many ranked officers as possible.  Besides any man rich enough to have an Orion slave would have more than enough to hire a bodyguard, something her people had increasingly found work doing.

The disrupter sat heavily on her hip and she adjusted it for felt like the hundredth time, she was on edge, as the party split into smaller groups each with its own backstory she muttered a small prayer, one her Grandmother had taught her, and she felt a little silly falling back on the primitive old gods, but every little bit helped.

[Naira]

[Red Phoenix]

T'rell stuck close to the Captain and the Security Chief, Starfleet standing orders were clear, and as the highest, non command rank Security officer on the away team she intended to keep as close as possible to as many ranked officers as possible.  Besides any man rich enough to have an Orion slave would have more than enough to hire a bodyguard, something her people had increasingly found work doing.

The disrupter sat heavily on her hip and she adjusted it for felt like the hundredth time, she was on edge, as the party split into smaller groups each with its own backstory she muttered a small prayer, one her Grandmother had taught her, and she felt a little silly falling back on the primitive old gods, but every little bit helped.

[Resort]

Naira held back, allowing the others to depart before the ship before her. She didn't stride forward, head held high, shoulders square, with a look of confidence on her face. No. Naira waited for her security officers to exit the ship while she followed two steps behind. Her shoulders slumped forward and her eyes fixated on the space just in front of her feet. Every few steps, she'd dare to sneak a glance up at the grand entrance to the resort, but before she could make eye contact with any of the staff waiting on hand, Naira would divert her eyes age.

Just as they were entering the building, Naira felt the cold stares of the attendants waiting beside the door. She could feel them sizing her up. She looked up but for a moment and just as she made eye contact with the Orion woman, the woman turned up her nose and looked away. They knew. She knew she should have done more to change her appearance. She could had changed the angle of her jawline. She could had softened her high cheekbones. There were any number of things she could have done to further alter her appearance to look more Orion and yet she hadn't. She had decided to minimally change the structure of her face and as such they were able to tell that she was not fully Orion and as such, she was beneath them.

She hastened her steps to walk beside the Chief of Security and intertwined her arms around one of his own. She clung to him, closing the space between them, as they entered the resort. She continued to look ahead, tried to focus on the mission and tried not to think about just how awkward and uncomfortable she was in her current position. 

[Felicity Ellis]

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

Pheromone blockers?

Volskene could not even imagine what the use of such a treatment would be. The Tholian was still absolutely confused as he followed the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember back through the bowels of the rundown old ship. Now Volskene had questions. His thoughtspace raced with the threads of conspiracy and deception, binding his movement slightly.

"Explain the purpose of these 'blockers'", Volskene inquired, a hint of suspicion conveyed even in the jangly timbre of his synthesized voice. He continued to ponder the significance of such a measure, trying to deduce what exactly would necessitate the precaution... before a flash of white and yellow revelation shot through him. They were dealing with Orions. Even as a traveller he had heard tell of the alien brigands and their supposed "allure", brought about by their noxious odour. As far as the Tholian was concerned, he wanted to be as far from them as possible. Immunity to their pheromones by way of his incompatible biochemistry certainly didn't hurt. The glow of his carapace flared almost imperceptibly at the epiphany. Volskene stayed silent, giving the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember the chance to confirm his shrewd deduction.

[Red Phoenix]

Ah, questions. Back on familiar footing, Felicity answered the Tholian as they approached the Mess Hall. "As I'm sure you're already aware, Orions produce highly potent pheromones that can accelerate adrenaline production and metabolism in those around them, among other things. A blocker will help us keep our heads clear and on-mission."

From an academic perspective, Felicity might have quite enjoyed observing everyone open to the natural environment of the pleasure resort. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly on vacation, and she wasn't there to study. More's the pity...

Just as they reached the Mess and the already thinning crowd, they heard the arrival announcement. "I'll grab a couple of vials and meet you groundside."

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

The tournament was taking place in the Rough Diamond casino, as was the underground games she wanted to procure an invite to, but while high rollers and gamblers might spend their money and do business in establishments like the Rough Diamond, they did not sleep there. They stayed in places like The Oasis; where the only thing that mattered was how much latinum you could carry and the only limits were those of your imagination. Felicity had barely set foot on the landing pad outside the opulent resort before the bellhop had descended upon her, and an almost-naked Orion man extended a ready hand to assist her onto the gravhopper. Under normal circumstances she might have laughed in disbelief at the idea of hitching a ride to travel one hundred meters, but, when in Rome...

She eyed the Orion man and his outstretched hand, sharp eyes catching just the faintest glimpse of a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. It was almost unnoticeable against his dark skin, but Felicity could just about make out the outline of a dice pair. She took his hand then and stepped up onto the sled. "You like to gamble, Mr...?" The only question in her tone was the delicate request for his name. An expression she could not quite identify crossed the man's striking face, but it was over within a nanosecond. It was replaced by the same welcoming smile as his lady counterpart wore, though his eyes were locked with hers.

"Jarn is my name. And yes I enjoy it, though only when the prize is worthwhile."

"Jarn the sensible gamester." Behind her the bellhop had placed her single item of luggage on the sled. Jarn released her hand, looking amused. Felicity thought she probably should be presenting a character who was perhaps a little more aloof, or failing that, at least a little lecherous, but neither method would prove as effective, she deduced.

The Orion moved to walk alongside her sled as it took off at a pace so painfully sedate, it just reminded her of how ridiculous the whole thing was. "I'd be pleased to point you in the direction of the best gaming in the quadrant, should you like that, Mrs...?" Felicity almost chuckled at Jarn's offer.

"I don't like sensible games, Jarn," she threw back, her grin taking a wolfish turn as she purposely neglected to give her name. The Orion had stopped walking parallel to the sled, though he was following her with a dark gaze and Felicity wondered just how long he would wait before looking her up on the resort's guest registry. Eventually, he bowed in her direction and turned his attention to the group boarding the sled behind her.

They were still technically moving when she stepped down. Allowing a little of the impatience she was feeling to tighten her mouth she approached the front desk. She was surrounded by faces and voices that she knew, some even very well, but she persevered in ignoring them, as difficult as that was with all of the different accents assaulting her ears.

"Ms. Hendricks, welcome to The Oasis."

Felicity gave some silent thanks to Captain Wakefield and those shady contacts of his. Even though their time for preparation had been limited, the smuggler, civilian captain, notorious poker player and former fling had managed to procure for her a name and just the slightest of reputations. All based on rumour, of course, Kaya Hendricks would buy her a seat at the table, everything else she'd have to work for.

"We have the Princess Suite ready for you. And your tournament fees have been taken care of."

Felicity nodded and answered in a casual, almost bored voice, with just a little more of the natural South African lilt than usual. "Very good. I'll also need accommodation suitable for my Tholian associate."

"We can arrange that for you, certainly. If you need anything else please do not hesitate to let us know. Here at The Oasis, your happiness is our happiness."

"I'm sure." Felicity had some cards to play, and some high roller trust to win.

[Judith Eastman]

[Red Phoenix]

Dihiq ran and ran to the bathroom. He just barely made it to a toilet before retching loudly and forcefully. He could make out the ingredients of his salad, mixed with digestive juices and beer, in the bowl. He could also smell it, which made him barf again.
And so the puking went for a solid minute, before a disheveled Dihiq finally emerged from the stall and went to his quarters to change.

It should be said to Dihiq's credit that he went all in on his disguise. He wore a glossy suit, had a shiny watch, and even dyed his hair platinum. The suit was poorly fitted, with lumpy shoulders, but it's not like the underworld was known for its fashion sense. Thus attired, Dihiq staggered towards the lobby.

[Lobby]

Dihiq came just in time to see Eastman leaving. However, the other people there didn't strike him as nicer. Sure, Odelot was cool, but he seemed busy arguing with reception, which left the terror counselor. Dihiq just froze.

[Leanna Mazal]

[Red Phoenix - Bridge]

Oliver watched as the team from Columbus including his boss, made their way off the Phoenix and into the waiting hands of the resort staff, remembering all too well how friendly and excited they always where whenever they received guests. If it wasn't for the nature of this particular mission he would of indulged in some of the entertainment on offer but alas it wasn't to be this time which if he thought about it was probably a good thing.

However despite missing out on the fun, they still had a job to complete and with their esteemed passengers off the ship, they could get down to the not so fun part of delivering the exotic fruits and liqueurs that filled most of the cargo bay.

Opening a shipwide channel.

=RP= Winch to Rex, Malia and Pieter, let's start offloading those supplies, we've got a deadline to meet before we take on the exchange items =RP=

His crew soon acknowledged him and he knew that they would offload as quickly as possible with the help of the resort docking crew. However he would feel more relaxed once this was over and done with but at least their cover should distract any unwanted attention should anyone decide to pay a visit.

Oliver's thoughts then turned to those that had gone to the main resort hotel and more importantly Leanna or Maura as she was now known and hoped that her backstory and fake records where also worth the price he paid although doubted that anyone would find out her true identity.

Turning his attention to Idris, the Freighter Captain spoke quietly.

" Are the transponders working properly? "He asked more for reassurance knowing how his Security Expert worked.

" Yes and I have tabs on each and everyone of them"Idris replied slightly irritated but took his duties seriously.

" Good although I don't need to tell you what to do if they get into any trouble".

Idris simply nodded, knowing exactly what had been discussed as he was hellbent on ensuring that no one was hurt or worse.

Oliver then sat back and waited for the signal to say that the delivery had been successful.

[Hust Kinun]

[NPC Post as Kida and Cage]

[Resort - The Gilded Lily]

Kida thoughtfully selected a tube grub from the platter of assorted delicacies on the table in front of her. She held the still wriggling creature between two long spindly fingers, each tipped in a perfectly manicured hot pink nail, and she studied it intently. Satisfied with what she saw, the Ferengi matron popped it into her mouth whole and bit down with a juicy crunch, letting out a contented sigh.

"The Orions may be lacking in lobes, but their cuisine is on point." She settled back into her chair and cast a glance at her son, who, true to his name seemed... Cagey. He shifted around as though his seat were lined with tacks and kept looking anxiously at the door to the establishment. She sighed and cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Boy, stifle yourself before you embarrass me."

Cage whipped his head on his spindly neck to face her, looking more comical than threatening. "But Moomsie, you said this guy is former Starfleet." He hissed through his sharpened teeth, nearly venomous when he mentioned that hated word. Federation jails were probably some of the nicest in the quadrant, but he hadn't really been in a mood to appreciate that fine point.

Kida just rolled her eyes at him, and adjusted the violently lime Tholian silk scarf around her aged neck. "You think I'd send an invitation to Starfleet Command for our little meeting? I've vetted this guy entirely. He's got no more love for the Federation's police force than you do."

"I noticed you conveniently left yourself out of that little equation." Cage scoffed at her, finally scooping up a bit of beetle snuff to calm his nerves.

"Anything I can exploit for profit is tolerable. That's why I keep you around, my dearest son." She sipped at her drink, chosen because the hot pink matched her nails and dress. Kida loved to dress in the brightest, flashiest clothing she could find. It usually helped distract the competition. She pulled out her PADD and again read over the missive she had sent her potential contact.

If the hewmon didn't show up, that was fine. Plenty of other snakes in the swamp. But Kida felt it in her lobes that'd he'd be there. The latinum in her hidden accounts more than proved she had a knack for this sort of thing.

[Resort]

Hust had been working on some paperwork before he'd gotten the message. More particularly, he had been working on tax documents and preparing them for the actual lawyers to look at. It wasn't fun, bit he was making sure all the accounts added up, with the right percentages left out, the right bribes paid, and the right numbers conveniently omitted. It wasn't glamorous, either. In fact, it was subtle tax evasion. But, it put a roof over his head and kept the security force of the resort on his good side. There weren't very many laws on this rock, just cops who enforced their will... at least, that's how Hust saw it.

He stopped as his PADD beeped. This was the PADD that he got jobs from - the one that was wiped nightly and destroyed monthly. He sighed, put down the paperwork, and read over the message. He read it over quickly, before deleting it and packing up his stuff. If his previous encounters with clients was to be remembered, they didn't like being kept waiting. He slung a coat on and left, heading to the locale specified. He'd taken the precaution of having a weapon on him, concealed within his clothing was a small phaser of Ferengi design - crude, but effective. It'd been rather cheap, too. Payment for services rendered, after it's first own had no longer needed it and his client was short on money.

He strode through the streets, making his way toward the bar. On his way, he made especially sure to watch out for any stupid-colored arrowhead-wearing phaser-packing Starfleet types, or any one of the people who'd like nothing more than to waylay a single traveler.

[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.

[Volskene]

[Red Phoenix]

Ah, questions. Back on familiar footing, Felicity answered the Tholian as they approached the Mess Hall. "As I'm sure you're already aware, Orions produce highly potent pheromones that can accelerate adrenaline production and metabolism in those around them, among other things. A blocker will help us keep our heads clear and on-mission."

From an academic perspective, Felicity might have quite enjoyed observing everyone open to the natural environment of the pleasure resort. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly on vacation, and she wasn't there to study. More's the pity...

Just as they reached the Mess and the already thinning crowd, they heard the arrival announcement. "I'll grab a couple of vials and meet you groundside."

[Disembarking the Red Phoenix]

The time point for the ship's arrival had already been reached when Volskene and the Primary Medical Castemember had returned to their destination aboard the freighter/garbage scow. The Tholian was quite taken aback that they had actually been able to survive atmospheric re-entry on this heap. He strode down the gangway, his legs working slowly in coordination to keep him from tripping down the humanoid-adapted passage. It was quite frustrating, as he felt his thoughtspace redden once more.

It appeared to be twilight on this planet (Volskene knew this from past experience on other humanoid worlds), with a dark ochre sky that reminded him with a pang of Tholia's daylight vistas. He was exceedingly careful; if Starfleet's normal accommodations were lethal, a suit puncture here would be even more extremely and rapidly lethal. Volskene finally slipped the last of the way down the gangplank and rejoined the Primary Medical Castemember.

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

Felicity nodded and answered in a casual, almost bored voice, with just a little more of the natural South African lilt than usual. "Very good. I'll also need accommodation suitable for my Tholian associate."

"We can arrange that for you, certainly. If you need anything else please do not hesitate to let us know. Here at The Oasis, your happiness is our happiness."

"I'm sure." Felicity had some cards to play, and some high roller trust to win.

As he followed the Primary Medical Castemember into this apparently opulent dwelling, the Tholian surveyed the surroundings to determine the nature of this world. Confirming his fears, this was certainly no "pleasure" planet for him. Between the deadly atmosphere and climate, the place was riddled with more Orions than Volskene had ever laid eye spots upon. His steps slowed slightly, but he continued his line of commentary. "My silicon-based biochemistry renders me immune to the odours secreted by these Orions. Even so, they quite repulse me visually, as well." He continued to examine the structure, which by now was clearly distinct as a lodging. It had an aura of deceit beneath it that rattled Volskene's carapace, and yet, the intricate architecture also brought back images of Tholian order and structure, with various geometric motifs.

Volskene stayed silent as the Primary Medical Castemember participated in her apparent negotiations. He simply listened until she referred to the Tholian as her "associate". To this, he waited until a spare time point to ask quietly, "We belong to different castes; in what way are we 'associates'?" With that addressed, he continued, "I rather doubt their ability to accommodate my physiology; my people do not typically venture this far from our space. I am an anomaly here..."

[Felicity Ellis]

As he followed the Primary Medical Castemember into this apparently opulent dwelling, the Tholian surveyed the surroundings to determine the nature of this world. Confirming his fears, this was certainly no "pleasure" planet for him. Between the deadly atmosphere and climate, the place was riddled with more Orions than Volskene had ever laid eye spots upon. His steps slowed slightly, but he continued his line of commentary. "My silicon-based biochemistry renders me immune to the odours secreted by these Orions. Even so, they quite repulse me visually, as well." He continued to examine the structure, which by now was clearly distinct as a lodging. It had an aura of deceit beneath it that rattled Volskene's carapace, and yet, the intricate architecture also brought back images of Tholian order and structure, with various geometric motifs.

Volskene stayed silent as the Primary Medical Castemember participated in her apparent negotiations. He simply listened until she referred to the Tholian as her "associate". To this, he waited until a spare time point to ask quietly, "We belong to different castes; in what way are we 'associates'?" With that addressed, he continued, "I rather doubt their ability to accommodate my physiology; my people do not typically venture this far from our space. I am an anomaly here..."

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

Inwardly, Felicity winced as Volskene spoke so offensively about Orions. She thought that he probably found all humanoid forms repulsive, and she might have asked him about it had they not been in the middle of a lobby, pretending to be people they weren't in an attempt to locate and apprehend a dangerous arms and information broker. Her eyes flashed toward the reception attendant, wondering if she'd overheard the harsh words.

When he corrected her use of the term associate, her right hand curled into a fist and she tried not to let her irritation show in her expression. It was difficult. She would have to tread carefully when she was out and about with the Tholian; he was liable to blow their covers with one grumpy sentence. At least he never actually referred to her as anything other than Primary Medical Castemember, she supposed. As weird as that might sound to a stranger, it could be explained a lot easier than her real name.

"Specialist." She ground out the word, a warning in her voice that she was unsure Volskene would recognise. "Tell this nice lady here what it is you need in order to be comfortable."

The poor woman blinked, and for just a moment, her professional veneer slipped. But just as quickly, the accommodating smile was back as she beckoned the Tholian closer to her station. "We do have a suite that can be programmed for extreme temperatures, sir, if that might be suitable for you?"

With a tight smile, Felicity stepped aside to make room for Volskene and as she turned, she spotted Dihiq. Blonde Dihiq. Standing alone in the lobby and looking altogether too lost. That would just not do. She left the receptionist at Volskene's mercy and stalked toward the young Klingon, her shoulders tense.

"There you are!" She announced loudly and purely for the benefit of any staff that might be watching. "You're going to miss the pre-tournament mixer!" She stopped in front of him, her arms folded against her chest. Her strict expression didn't change, hoping to give the impression that he was part of her retinue, but her voice dropped as she addressed him directly then. "Dihiq. Do you need a room?" She glanced back toward Volskene for a moment, before returning her gaze to Dihiq, though she was finding it difficult to look anywhere other than those platinum locks. "Do you want to come with me? Nice hair, by the way."

[Judith Eastman]

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

With a tight smile, Felicity stepped aside to make room for Volskene and as she turned, she spotted Dihiq. Blonde Dihiq. Standing alone in the lobby and looking altogether too lost. That would just not do. She left the receptionist at Volskene's mercy and stalked toward the young Klingon, her shoulders tense.

"There you are!" She announced loudly and purely for the benefit of any staff that might be watching. "You're going to miss the pre-tournament mixer!" She stopped in front of him, her arms folded against her chest. Her strict expression didn't change, hoping to give the impression that he was part of her retinue, but her voice dropped as she addressed him directly then. "Dihiq. Do you need a room?" She glanced back toward Volskene for a moment, before returning her gaze to Dihiq, though she was finding it difficult to look anywhere other than those platinum locks. "Do you want to come with me? Nice hair, by the way."

[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."

[Leanna Mazal]

[Lobby->Lift]

Judy found the man's name to be more than ridiculous, and couldn't internalize that.

"Ha ha ha ha," she laughed, before remembering that she's supposed to be a Cajun. "Hon hon hon hon hon," she continued laughing in a more Cajun manner. "Dat is uh, da very funny name dat you 'ave dere, monsieur."

Once they were inside the lift, Judy pushed forward with her interrogation, in full accent.
"So, monsieur, we all know dat dis is not da real name, n'est-ce pas? Dat's as plain as da tail on dem crawfish in da bayous. So, doctor, tell dis here ol' lady, dat's me, what's dat dere real name you don' gon' an' lied to dem dere hoteliers about?"
Judy had a creeping feeling, from Leanna's familiar reaction to the man, that he was one of them. However, she didn't feel quite confident enough in that to drop her accent.

[Lift]

Lea called for the floor that they needed as Judy kept up the accent and cover whilst questioning the mysterious Dr McRib who of course she knew to be Lieutenant McIntyre. She didn't blame the other woman for being unsure and not reveal her true identity besides she did find the newly promoted Doc to be just as eccentric as normal.

It was then that Lea decided to join in with Judy's line of questioning to see how he would react. " Yes do tell us after all we're eager to know" she said giving Judy a look as if to say its okay he is one of us but lets have some fun.

She then looked at the lift interface " Besides we have plenty of time before we reach our floor" she said wondering if he would tell them or not.

At least in here they could be relatively normal until they reached the sanctuary of their suites and once Lyric was sorted and everything they needed was unpacked, it would be time to venture into the entertainment areas.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Resort]

Naira held back, allowing the others to depart before the ship before her. She didn't stride forward, head held high, shoulders square, with a look of confidence on her face. No. Naira waited for her security officers to exit the ship while she followed two steps behind. Her shoulders slumped forward and her eyes fixated on the space just in front of her feet. Every few steps, she'd dare to sneak a glance up at the grand entrance to the resort, but before she could make eye contact with any of the staff waiting on hand, Naira would divert her eyes age.

Just as they were entering the building, Naira felt the cold stares of the attendants waiting beside the door. She could feel them sizing her up. She looked up but for a moment and just as she made eye contact with the Orion woman, the woman turned up her nose and looked away. They knew. She knew she should have done more to change her appearance. She could had changed the angle of her jawline. She could had softened her high cheekbones. There were any number of things she could have done to further alter her appearance to look more Orion and yet she hadn't. She had decided to minimally change the structure of her face and as such they were able to tell that she was not fully Orion and as such, she was beneath them.

She hastened her steps to walk beside the Chief of Security and intertwined her arms around one of his own. She clung to him, closing the space between them, as they entered the resort. She continued to look ahead, tried to focus on the mission and tried not to think about just how awkward and uncomfortable she was in her current position.

[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.

[Volskene]

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

Inwardly, Felicity winced as Volskene spoke so offensively about Orions. She thought that he probably found all humanoid forms repulsive, and she might have asked him about it had they not been in the middle of a lobby, pretending to be people they weren't in an attempt to locate and apprehend a dangerous arms and information broker. Her eyes flashed toward the reception attendant, wondering if she'd overheard the harsh words.

When he corrected her use of the term associate, her right hand curled into a fist and she tried not to let her irritation show in her expression. It was difficult. She would have to tread carefully when she was out and about with the Tholian; he was liable to blow their covers with one grumpy sentence. At least he never actually referred to her as anything other than Primary Medical Castemember, she supposed. As weird as that might sound to a stranger, it could be explained a lot easier than her real name.

"Specialist." She ground out the word, a warning in her voice that she was unsure Volskene would recognise. "Tell this nice lady here what it is you need in order to be comfortable."

The poor woman blinked, and for just a moment, her professional veneer slipped. But just as quickly, the accommodating smile was back as she beckoned the Tholian closer to her station. "We do have a suite that can be programmed for extreme temperatures, sir, if that might be suitable for you?"

With a tight smile, Felicity stepped aside to make room for Volskene and as she turned, she spotted Dihiq. Blonde Dihiq. Standing alone in the lobby and looking altogether too lost. That would just not do. She left the receptionist at Volskene's mercy and stalked toward the young Klingon, her shoulders tense.

"There you are!" She announced loudly and purely for the benefit of any staff that might be watching. "You're going to miss the pre-tournament mixer!" She stopped in front of him, her arms folded against her chest. Her strict expression didn't change, hoping to give the impression that he was part of her retinue, but her voice dropped as she addressed him directly then. "Dihiq. Do you need a room?" She glanced back toward Volskene for a moment, before returning her gaze to Dihiq, though she was finding it difficult to look anywhere other than those platinum locks. "Do you want to come with me? Nice hair, by the way."

[Oasis Lobby]

Volskene couldn't help but be confused by the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember's apparent consternation at his statements. He was simply reciting matters of fact. The Tholian's mindlines pulsed with muddy auras... what a frustrating lack of communication. The humanoid servant did catch his attention when she mentioned a room with "extreme temperatures". Continuing on the line of questioning, he asked gruffly, "Can you also provide a suitable Y-class atmosphere?"

...

This exchange went on for some time.

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.