Season 3 Episode 2 - The Price of Pleasure

[Felicity Ellis]

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

It unfolded in slow motion. Before Felicity's eyes the scene devolved into a bad dream, a nightmare, and all she could really do was stand there and watch it, aghast. She'd always thought that the Tholian cut quite the intimidating figure, and she might have hesitated a moment the first time she'd met him herself, but Dihiq's reaction to Volskene was visceral, and dramatic. She inhaled sharply, horrified as the young Klingon wet himself. She found that she was beginning to feel more and more sympathy for The Wicked Witch of the Eastman.

And then, SMACK.

Her head whipped around and she stared at Volskene, whose limb was extended and poised after the delivering the blow. "Specialist!" She breathed, her tone of voice shocked. She quickly schooled her expression into something a little more neutral so as not to draw any further attention to the debacle, though her heart was racing. She needed to get out of there, and fast, before any further attention was drawn to her and before her cover could be jeopardised.

People had begun to stare at the trio in the middle of the lobby, others passing by slowly, some with wide eyes, some with expressions of amusement. How could she explain this? Rehearsing for a play? Oh, no, ridiculous. She glanced from Volskene to Dihiq, who was now on the ground, crying.

"Ineptitude," she said to one passerby with a "what are you gonna do?" kind of shrug. She gestured toward Dihiq. "Tholians expect a high standard of competence."

Once the rubbernecker had passed, Felicity lowered her voice and herself closer to Dihiq on the ground. "Get. Up. Now." She muttered through clenched teeth while she fought every instinct she had not to look up to check if the Saurian manager was still watching them. "We will go to my suite, you will clean yourself up and we will replicate you a new pair of trousers. They will be equally as spiffy as the ones you have on."

She straightened up and fixed Volskene with a stare. "Specialist, you are welcome to join us. We will be discussing the consequences and subsequent punishment for your assault of this man when our stay here is complete. In the meantime I'll thank you to keep your arms, and claws, to yourself. Is that clear?"

And with that, Felicity stalked out of the lobby, not bothering once to look behind her to check on their progress.

[Sometime Later: The Oasis - Princess Suite]

The Princess suite boasted multiple bedrooms, a shared living area, a preparation area, and several bathrooms with huge, gilded bathtubs the likes of which she'd never seen. Not to mention the walk-in wardrobes and the bar. She had a whole bar, all to herself! Under the guise of getting the lay of the land and making herself comfortable, she made directly for the displayed bottles in search of some whiskey. While she poured herself something she thought to be Argelian in origin, Odelot's voice flooded her ear, drowning out the sound of the booze filling the tumbler.

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

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? 

You beaut.

Thankfully something had gone to plan. With a small smile, Felicity activated the false video feed loop before she reached out to the Pakled.

"Odelot, this is Felicity Ellis. Very well done. If you can get it, I would like a current list of all the entrants to the Rough Diamond Texas Hold 'Em Poker Tournament, please."

[Odelot]

The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942

Odelot's eyes became heavy-lidded as he lay upon what was most definitely the most comfortable bed he had ever felt.  Before he could completely descend into dreamland, however, a communication came through.

"Odelot is awake!" he declared hastily to no one.

Then he blinked and fished in his jumpsuit pockets for his spare PADD.  It was a smaller, less capable model than the one which was currently handling optical data interdiction in the bathroom.  This one was only meant to talk to the other, allowing the bigger one to take care of business while just passing information back and forth.

Finding the spare PADD was easier than finding the tachyon relay, which turned out to be in the very deepest part of his front-right pants pocket, where only the very tip of his finger could reach it.   He started scrunching and wiggling on the bed, trying to improve the angle, until finally he got the relay and clipped it onto the PADD's Input/Output port.

Now it could talk to the big PADD, and the big PADD could take care of business.

Odelot tapped his belt-buckle three times, so that he could talk back to Felicity Ellis who is also Flick.

Hello Flick!  This is Odelot!  I am looking now...

He began navigating the vast network of information at his disposal.  The resort's databanks were much larger than one might expect, with enough information to fill the memory storage of a Galaxy Class ship.

That is what Finders were for.  Starfleet called them Search Algorithms.  Odelot was not an ace programmer, but this was another case where he could rely on the crutch of the Very Smart People who worked for Starfleet.  Using a tool that had already been prepared was much easier and faster than making one up.

In moments, complete profiles on the gamblers came up.  Not merely their names, photos, and registration data, but also complete dossiers on their entire lives.   There were sub-folders that contained potentially embarrassing information.  Illegal activities.  Exotic fetishes.  Anything that might be used to blackmail or manipulate the players in an effort to shift the odds in favor of the House.

The poker players played for massive stakes, but that's not where the gambling ended.  Huge bets were taken on the outcome of these games, and this information might enable the Syndicate to force a gambler to throw a game- thus defying the expected outcomes and causing the Syndicate bookies to rake in massive amounts of latinum when the outcomes defied the odds.

Odelot is sending files now.  Am sending to your room.  Odelot will hide that you are reading.

He paused, then added, Flick... Odelot sees files for you, too.  It says 'Hendricks.'  Your files are small and pretty empty.  The bad people here are looking for more stuff to put inside.  They are looking at you very hard.  It is maybe weird to them that they do not to find more about you yet.

As he spoke, he completed the file transfer.   Now Felicity Ellis who is also Flick and maybe now Hendricks too would be able to read everything on her room's dedicated data terminal.

[Volskene]

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

It unfolded in slow motion. Before Felicity's eyes the scene devolved into a bad dream, a nightmare, and all she could really do was stand there and watch it, aghast. She'd always thought that the Tholian cut quite the intimidating figure, and she might have hesitated a moment the first time she'd met him herself, but Dihiq's reaction to Volskene was visceral, and dramatic. She inhaled sharply, horrified as the young Klingon wet himself. She found that she was beginning to feel more and more sympathy for The Wicked Witch of the Eastman.

And then, SMACK.

Her head whipped around and she stared at Volskene, whose limb was extended and poised after the delivering the blow. "Specialist!" She breathed, her tone of voice shocked. She quickly schooled her expression into something a little more neutral so as not to draw any further attention to the debacle, though her heart was racing. She needed to get out of there, and fast, before any further attention was drawn to her and before her cover could be jeopardised.

People had begun to stare at the trio in the middle of the lobby, others passing by slowly, some with wide eyes, some with expressions of amusement. How could she explain this? Rehearsing for a play? Oh, no, ridiculous. She glanced from Volskene to Dihiq, who was now on the ground, crying.

"Ineptitude," she said to one passerby with a "what are you gonna do?" kind of shrug. She gestured toward Dihiq. "Tholians expect a high standard of competence."

Once the rubbernecker had passed, Felicity lowered her voice and herself closer to Dihiq on the ground. "Get. Up. Now." She muttered through clenched teeth while she fought every instinct she had not to look up to check if the Saurian manager was still watching them. "We will go to my suite, you will clean yourself up and we will replicate you a new pair of trousers. They will be equally as spiffy as the ones you have on."

She straightened up and fixed Volskene with a stare. "Specialist, you are welcome to join us. We will be discussing the consequences and subsequent punishment for your assault of this man when our stay here is complete. In the meantime I'll thank you to keep your arms, and claws, to yourself. Is that clear?"

And with that, Felicity stalked out of the lobby, not bothering once to look behind her to check on their progress.

[Sometime Later: The Oasis - Princess Suite]

The Princess suite boasted multiple bedrooms, a shared living area, a preparation area, and several bathrooms with huge, gilded bathtubs the likes of which she'd never seen. Not to mention the walk-in wardrobes and the bar. She had a whole bar, all to herself! Under the guise of getting the lay of the land and making herself comfortable, she made directly for the displayed bottles in search of some whiskey. While she poured herself something she thought to be Argelian in origin, Odelot's voice flooded her ear, drowning out the sound of the booze filling the tumbler.

You beaut.

Thankfully something had gone to plan. With a small smile, Felicity activated the false video feed loop before she reached out to the Pakled.

"Odelot, this is Felicity Ellis. Very well done. If you can get it, I would like a current list of all the entrants to the Rough Diamond Texas Hold 'Em Poker Tournament, please."

[Oasis Lobby]

The Tholian continued to stand there, momentarily. He was almost ashamed at the victory. The triumphant thoughtcolours wore off quickly as he returned to a neutral stance, the defeated Klingon (?) quivering before him. The Primary Medical Ruling Castemember immediately took heed, of course. Volskene knew she would.

In his defence, he mustered, "The Klingon's conduct was simply unbecoming and improper." Unfortunately, his admonition fell short of the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember's auditory receptors, which were already fading quickly with distance. Volskene did hear mention of punishment, which he fully suspected might be imprisonment or exile, perhaps even summary execution. He continued to stand there, briefly, before resigning himself for what was to come. The Tholian scuttled after the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember, fully aware that he may yet never see his homeworld in physical form again.

[Hallway outside the Princess Suite - The Oasis]

Some time had passed as the Tholian continued to ponder his life's accomplishments thus far. He'd finally prepared to die, after having made peace with the current situation. Or maybe he hadn't... Volskene had cleared the length of this hallway more times than he'd cared to count. Some humanoid would surely be in shock at the pattern of footprints he was likely to grind into the floor with all of this locomotion. Muddied thoughtcolours continued to cloud him like a mist. Confusion, annoyance, anger, misunderstanding....

[Naira]

[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.

[Lobby]

"That's all part of the plan," she responded in a similarly hushed voice. "But don't think for a second that I'm enjoying this any more than you are." She looked up and smiled at a guest walking in the opposite direction clearly eyeing her up and down.

There were a million other places she would rather be. She wished she could smack the look off the face of a Orion man standing in the corner, smacking his lips and making unwanted suggestions with his eyebrows. However, doing so would blow their mission. She had to grin and bear it, at least for now. Which meant she also couldn't get involved when she one of the civilians accompanying them on this mission assault their young cadet. Under normal circumstances, she would have marched over, gotten between them, assessed the situation, and either tended to any injuries while the other was held for questioning or she would have closely observed those tending to them. In this situation, all she could do was to frown.

The two security officers at her side couldn't intervene either. If they stepped in, issued orders, and followed Starfleet protocol like they were trained to do, they would give themselves away.

No, Naira had to watch as her First Officer had to scold the man attempt to lead the two away before the resort staff got involved. That was not part of the plan.

While things once again settled down in the lobby, Naira watched a young Orion girl sneak out from behind a back room behind the main desk and make her way over to clean the spot on the floor. The girl couldn't have been older than nine or ten years of age, the same age her middle daughter was when she had taken them in. From the look of it, the girl was a slave. She continued to watch the girl as she released Adeyemi's arm so that he could see to their room.

The girl seemed timid in her actions, which at first seemed a bit odd considering their surroundings and what most of the other slaves were kept for, but the more she watched her, Naira guessed that the girl was kept primarily as a form of housekeeping. She wore a rather plain garment that contrasted with all the extravagance of the resort. She wouldn't make eye contact and when Naira tried to take a step closer to her, the girl took a step back.

"Interested in something younger?" A man's voice spoke out in a sing-songy tone over her shoulder. Naira had to stop and turn around to see the Bolian approaching from behind. He chewed on his lip as he stared at Naira before turned to take in Adeyemi and the Caitian.

"A fine looking pair of companions you have," he said to Adeyemi. "If you're looking to buy more or possibly trade in for a younger model, I'm sure we can work something out."

It took every ouch of restraint for Naira not to smack the heavyset, blue skinned man in the ugliest purple suit she had ever seen. How he could even suggest such a thing and with a smile plastered across his face, it sickened her.

Brarr Boref was even more repulsive in person than all the horrible things she had read about him in the file she had been given by Starfleet Command. He'd sell anything or anyone to the highest bidder, regardless what sort of conflicts it might cause or loss of life, his only concern was lining his own pockets. The Syndicate seemed to be the only group he was in anyway considered on good terms with and even that seemed more dependent on his ability keep money and needed resources flowing in their direction.

"You wouldn't happen to be joining the tournament would you?" He asked with a grin across his face.         

[Leanna Mazal]

[Red Phoenix]

The offloading and loading of supplies didn't take very long owing to not only the skill of the Phoenix crew but also with the efficiency of the resort cargo workers. Oliver had never been to this particular planet before and yet his experience was just as good if not better than dealing with crews from similar Syndicate worlds although was careful not to go anywhere near the Twenty Six Cartel.

A shudder always ran down his back at the thought of the Cartel and how they had influenced not only his life but Lea's and a few others as well and the Syndicate seemed like pussy cats in comparison. However he didn't have think about that too much now as confirmation came through from the Resort Authorities regarding the exchange meaning that they could leave.

Oliver wasn't keen on the idea but knew it would look suspicious if they remained as they weren't scheduled to return until the tournament was over plus the docking space was only short term. But that didn't mean that they would disappear completely as it was part of the plan for them to hide within one of the mined out moons nearby so they could still be in range should the others need a quick exit.

So with some reluctance he give the order to depart and after receiving clearance and immediately set a course as if they would be leaving the system altogether. To even the most sneakiest of watchers, they would be unable to trace them thanks to the expertise of Idris and moments later, the Phoenix set a new orbit where they hid and waited.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Lobby]

"That's all part of the plan," she responded in a similarly hushed voice. "But don't think for a second that I'm enjoying this any more than you are." She looked up and smiled at a guest walking in the opposite direction clearly eyeing her up and down.

There were a million other places she would rather be. She wished she could smack the look off the face of a Orion man standing in the corner, smacking his lips and making unwanted suggestions with his eyebrows. However, doing so would blow their mission. She had to grin and bear it, at least for now. Which meant she also couldn't get involved when she one of the civilians accompanying them on this mission assault their young cadet. Under normal circumstances, she would have marched over, gotten between them, assessed the situation, and either tended to any injuries while the other was held for questioning or she would have closely observed those tending to them. In this situation, all she could do was to frown.

The two security officers at her side couldn't intervene either. If they stepped in, issued orders, and followed Starfleet protocol like they were trained to do, they would give themselves away.

No, Naira had to watch as her First Officer had to scold the man attempt to lead the two away before the resort staff got involved. That was not part of the plan.

While things once again settled down in the lobby, Naira watched a young Orion girl sneak out from behind a back room behind the main desk and make her way over to clean the spot on the floor. The girl couldn't have been older than nine or ten years of age, the same age her middle daughter was when she had taken them in. From the look of it, the girl was a slave. She continued to watch the girl as she released Adeyemi's arm so that he could see to their room.

The girl seemed timid in her actions, which at first seemed a bit odd considering their surroundings and what most of the other slaves were kept for, but the more she watched her, Naira guessed that the girl was kept primarily as a form of housekeeping. She wore a rather plain garment that contrasted with all the extravagance of the resort. She wouldn't make eye contact and when Naira tried to take a step closer to her, the girl took a step back.

"Interested in something younger?" A man's voice spoke out in a sing-songy tone over her shoulder. Naira had to stop and turn around to see the Bolian approaching from behind. He chewed on his lip as he stared at Naira before turned to take in Adeyemi and the Caitian.

"A fine looking pair of companions you have," he said to Adeyemi. "If you're looking to buy more or possibly trade in for a younger model, I'm sure we can work something out."

It took every ouch of restraint for Naira not to smack the heavyset, blue skinned man in the ugliest purple suit she had ever seen. How he could even suggest such a thing and with a smile plastered across his face, it sickened her.

Brarr Boref was even more repulsive in person than all the horrible things she had read about him in the file she had been given by Starfleet Command. He'd sell anything or anyone to the highest bidder, regardless what sort of conflicts it might cause or loss of life, his only concern was lining his own pockets. The Syndicate seemed to be the only group he was in anyway considered on good terms with and even that seemed more dependent on his ability keep money and needed resources flowing in their direction.

"You wouldn't happen to be joining the tournament would you?" He asked with a grin across his face.

[Lobby]

It took all the years of Adeyemi's Starfleet training and discipline not to let the loathing he felt in his heart show. He didn't speak, he didn't contort his face. He could only shake his head, and rely on his captain to do the talking.

But he realized that that would not be expected. He was allegedly her master, and would speak for her. He owned Naira, as inconceivable as that was to think, body and soul.

"I'm fine, thanks." Was all Adeyemi could muster out. He realized he did not sound at all lecherous like the other man, but couldn't even fake it. He sounded like he was refusing another lump of sugar for his tea.

"We'll be attending the tournament." The chief said briefly, not wanting to converse with this person anymore, hoping he would just go away.

[Felicity Ellis]

The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942

Odelot is sending files now.  Am sending to your room.  Odelot will hide that you are reading.

He paused, then added, Flick... Odelot sees files for you, too.  It says 'Hendricks.'  Your files are small and pretty empty.  The bad people here are looking for more stuff to put inside.  They are looking at you very hard.  It is maybe weird to them that they do not to find more about you yet.

As he spoke, he completed the file transfer.   Now Felicity Ellis who is also Flick and maybe now Hendricks too would be able to read everything on her room's dedicated data terminal.

[The Oasis - Princess Suite]

"Thanks, Odelot." Felicity moved toward the data terminal, whiskey still in hand. She paused with one hand aloft, ready for access, while she listened to Odelot's next words. She considered for a few moments, took a generous swig from her glass, and answered thoughtfully.

"You're right, it is weird." Her identity wasn't an aged, established one; it was the brainchild of Captain Wakefield, and put together quickly from several different sources. Hendricks was positively innocent in comparison to the other names on the list Odelot had sent her, which she was now scrolling through, her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps we should give them something to put inside?"

With a few taps, she accessed the files of some of Brarr Boref's known associates. Her eyes scanned the reports, which ranged from well-written intelligence dossiers, to hasty recitations of rumour, and various images of men in fairly compromising positions. She glanced at the unopened case that the bellhop had placed carefully beside a garish chaise longue. "Odelot," she continued, rim of her glass pressed against her chin, "Can we add something to my file? Something small, something vague enough, but looks as though it could possibly have come from a contact aboard The Devil's Hand freighter?" Kaya Hendricks was connected publicly to Wakefield, so it would make sense for any leaks to come from within his crew. "I think Ms. Hendricks might have a bit of a stim problem."

Felicity had the tools to give their curious audience a bit of a show. Inside that case was a change of day wear, a swim costume, two evening gowns, toiletries and a hypospray with various clear vials. She was sure that she could convince any onlooker that Lunn's simple serum was in fact something a little more complex. Maraji, bericol, even tricordrazine were all a similar colour going in. A simple, rumoured stimulant addiction was perhaps small potatoes in comparison to some of the other guests' predilections, but it was something.

[The Oasis - Outside the Princess Suite - 2100 HRS]

Felicity emerged from her room several whiskeys and a wardrobe change later. Especially for the tournament she had donned a knee-length, slinky black number, that glistened silver when it caught the light. She'd kept the flat boots, which at that point weren't just practical footwear, but also perfect for secreting a necessary item or two. The doors to her suite whooshed closed behind her, and she stepped right into one of the indents Volskene was wearing into the expensive carpet.

"Are you lost, Specialist?"

She stared at him, frowning as she wondered why he was outside her door. And how long he'd been there. And also, why he hadn't knocked? Felicity looked at the Tholian and thought for just a split-second that they might have more in common than she originally suspected. They both seemed overly fond of questions, it seemed.

"I'm heading to the tournament now. Come, help me size up the competition."

[The Rough Diamond Casino - Grand Tournament Ballroom]

The Rough Diamond was noise. From to her right as she entered came the unmistakable, almost overwhelming sounds of electronic games of chance; clanging and jingling and flashing. Felicity could almost feel the heavy, smoky air as she stepped further inside, a wide array of odours, some pleasant, some decidedly not so, causing her to wrinkle her nose delicately. Guests, gamblers and spectators alike milled around with drinks in hand, chatting, placing bets, shouting greetings to friends and business associates. It was a night for revelry, but as always in the Rough Diamond, it was a night to make deals, too.

The Oasis was effortless glitz and glam within surroundings fit for the most refined. The Diamond was no less ambitious, but with an undercurrent of hostility and a veneer likely to crack at any kind of close inspection. The din of the ballroom was deafening, and Felicity both loved and disliked it. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine while the cacophony of sounds sent her blood pressure through the figurative roof. She glanced upward then and realised that there was no literal roof.

She skirted around a few very active blackjack and dabo tables in search of the registration booths.

[Judith Eastman]

[The Oasis]

Dihiq darted away from both the terror Tholian and terror counselor (they were birds of a feather, in his eyes), and hid in one of the stairwells. He spent a good minute there, calming himself down, before he reached for his hidden commbadge.

"D-D-Dihiq to Eastm-man, I'm in th-th-the l-l-lob-b-b-y,"  he said.
  "Oh, good,"  Judy answered him.   "I need you to do something for me. My suite doesn't seem to have a bar in the shower, and a woman of my age absolutely needs one. Go tell them that the Bourdreaux reservation is inadequate. Eastman out."

Dihiq staggered out of the stairwell and to the scared Orions.
"The Bourdreaux reservation demands a bar in the shower," he shouted in his most Klingon voice.
"Sorry, sir. I'll move one of the rooms to an Imperial Suite," the Orion complied. After dealing with the woman in question, she feared even upsetting her bizarro Klingon accomplice.
"Awesomesauce," Dihiq answered. Through the fear, his booze was showing again.

  "Imperial Suite, Room 2807,"  Dihiq reported to Judy.
  "Good. Meet me there. Eastman out,"  Judy ordered back.

"We just got an upgrade!" Judy told Leanna and Lyric excitedly.

[Leanna Mazal]

[The Oasis]

Dihiq darted away from both the terror Tholian and terror counselor (they were birds of a feather, in his eyes), and hid in one of the stairwells. He spent a good minute there, calming himself down, before he reached for his hidden commbadge.

"D-D-Dihiq to Eastm-man, I'm in th-th-the l-l-lob-b-b-y,"  he said.
  "Oh, good,"  Judy answered him.   "I need you to do something for me. My suite doesn't seem to have a bar in the shower, and a woman of my age absolutely needs one. Go tell them that the Bourdreaux reservation is inadequate. Eastman out."

Dihiq staggered out of the stairwell and to the scared Orions.
"The Bourdreaux reservation demands a bar in the shower," he shouted in his most Klingon voice.
"Sorry, sir. I'll move one of the rooms to an Imperial Suite," the Orion complied. After dealing with the woman in question, she feared even upsetting her bizarro Klingon accomplice.
"Awesomesauce," Dihiq answered. Through the fear, his booze was showing again.

  "Imperial Suite, Room 2807,"  Dihiq reported to Judy.
  "Good. Meet me there. Eastman out,"  Judy ordered back.

"We just got an upgrade!" Judy told Leanna and Lyric excitedly.

[23rd Floor - The Ladies Room]

Despite Judy's comment about passing on the wine because of her age and liver, Lea had a sneaking suspicion that the older woman enjoyed the odd tipple or three, however respected her choice as she ordered a glass of wine from the replicator. When Judy then asked Lyric to check her bag regarding her medication naturally the Betazoid was concerned but it seemed that everything was under control.

Taking a moment to check out Judy's room, she had to admit that she was impressed with what she saw and looked forward to trying out her own room a bit later. But then with Dihiq contacting his boss and Judy informing her and Lyric that they had been upgraded, Lea had to admit that this Imperial Suite would definitely be more fitting for the three of them.

" Excellent, let's check it out, then we can head to the tournament as it should be starting soon" she said thinking of the mission and wondering if a certain individual would be present. If he was then it could prove to be an advantage when it came to seeking out more information and if not then she would still play her part well.

[Odelot]

The Emerald Enclave Pleasure Resort, The Oasis - Room 942

Can we add something to my file? Something small, something vague enough, but looks as though it could possibly have come from a contact aboard The Devil's Hand freighter?
Odelot nodded enthusiastically, Uh huh!  They have finder-crawlers on the sub-space-net-work.   That was a hard word, chewed into very specific syllables.  At the Technical Services Academy, he'd had to learn a lot of words that way.    We can pretend they found something.  Something for your file.

The next few minutes were spent helping her to add details of a medical addiction to the file.  It added a degree of depth and Pakledness- er, Humanity, to the person she was meant to be.

Once that was finished, Odelot decided he had worked up an appetite.  Pocketing his secondary PADD, he got out of bed, stretched, and left his suite.  As he went out into the hall, he passed a beautiful young redheaded Orion woman.  She had a toolkit in one hand, and a tricorder in the other.

"You look smart," he declared in passing, smiling in his usual goofy way.

Behind him, the woman blinked in surprise at the comment.   Then, once Odelot was gone, she resumed her scanning of the area.

It was here.

In this room.

Whatever was making them lose data packets... it was happening inside this suite.

[Judith Eastman]

As NPC used shuttle salesman Nick Dixon.
[The Rough Diamond Casino - Tournament Ballroom - Blackjack Table]

One of the occasional visitors around here was Nick Dixon, a middle-aged, stern-faced human man with a sharp suit and a receding hairline. His was a profession more maligned than any of the others around here - the girls, the bouncers, and even the lawyers got more respect - for Nick was a used shuttle salesman. He made his business at the blackjack, roulette, and dabo tables, losing a little money and meeting some gamblers. He picked out the more gullible ones to keep an eye on and then, at the end of the night, when they were drunk on winnings and booze, he sold them shuttles and took the money in cash. It wasn't respectable, but it was a way to make a living.

Tonight, with the big tournament and all the suckers it attracted, he hoped to make a killing.

[Four of Twenty]

As NPC used shuttle salesman Nick Dixon.
[The Rough Diamond Casino - Tournament Ballroom - Blackjack Table]

One of the occasional visitors around here was Nick Dixon, a middle-aged, stern-faced human man with a sharp suit and a receding hairline. His was a profession more maligned than any of the others around here - the girls, the bouncers, and even the lawyers got more respect - for Nick was a used shuttle salesman. He made his business at the blackjack, roulette, and dabo tables, losing a little money and meeting some gamblers. He picked out the more gullible ones to keep an eye on and then, at the end of the night, when they were drunk on winnings and booze, he sold them shuttles and took the money in cash. It wasn't respectable, but it was a way to make a living.

Tonight, with the big tournament and all the suckers it attracted, he hoped to make a killing.

[The Rough Diamond Casino - Tournament Ballroom - Blackjack Table]

The time for nostalgia was over. It was time to get to work. Changing into a different set of silks, something that breathed a bit more, Four made his way into the Ballroom. He had made short work of registering for the poker tournament and decided to kill a little time elsewhere.

Card games were something that he was taught at the Academy. It was something of a prerequisite for Red Squad, for some reason. But, it seemed to be a rather popular activity among Starfleet. So, Four made an honest effort to learn the rules of some of the more popular card games. One of his personal favorites was Blackjack.

A waitress carrying a tray of cigars walked past him as he stopped her. Buying a few, he put one in his mouth and the rest in his pocket. After biting the end off, the waitress lit his cigar for him. He took a few puffs, nodding his thanks to her as he proceeded to one of the Blackjack tables.

Taking a seat, he glanced over to Nick, giving the Terran a nod before turning his attention to the dealer. Setting a stack of chips up on the table, he crossed one leg over the other. Puffing his cigar as he patiently waited for the hand to finish so that he may place his bets and begin gambling.

[Volskene]

[The Oasis - Outside the Princess Suite - 2100 HRS]

Felicity emerged from her room several whiskeys and a wardrobe change later. Especially for the tournament she had donned a knee-length, slinky black number, that glistened silver when it caught the light. She'd kept the flat boots, which at that point weren't just practical footwear, but also perfect for secreting a necessary item or two. The doors to her suite whooshed closed behind her, and she stepped right into one of the indents Volskene was wearing into the expensive carpet.

"Are you lost, Specialist?"

She stared at him, frowning as she wondered why he was outside her door. And how long he'd been there. And also, why he hadn't knocked? Felicity looked at the Tholian and thought for just a split-second that they might have more in common than she originally suspected. They both seemed overly fond of questions, it seemed.

"I'm heading to the tournament now. Come, help me size up the competition."

[Hallway outside the Princess Suite - The Oasis]

Interrupted suddenly in his pacing, Volskene snapped to reality from his seeming endless musing with a flash of bright white thoughtcolour. The source? The Primary Medical Ruling Castemember had emerged from one of the dwelling units that bordered both sides of this exceedingly long hallway (it felt long to the Tholian, at least, having paced its length several hundred cycles). The meeting was brief, however, as his humanoid contact gave Volskene a simple request.

Size up the competition?... His thoughtspace processed the words. What competition? And it seemed he would need to bring some form of measuring device?

He stood there for a short while longer, before following along with the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember to ensure he reached the right destination. He'd have to inquire on his pending execution at a later time point.

[Rough Diamond Casino - Grand Tournament Ballroom]

Volskene stepped into the confines of the large room and felt immediately assaulted by its many garish sights and sounds. Such was not typical fare of Tholians, who did not favour the idea of chance in their cautious deliberation. Indeed, Volskene had heard tell of such games, but, like others of his people, wanted no part with them. Scuttling further into the noisy, gaudy room, Volskene sensed once more a mix of thoughtcolours... red, blue, a tinge of green and violet here and there. This was a place of small-minded humanoids to partake in small-minded ventures, and the Tholian felt far above it. He began to seek out the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember, once more, for they had gotten slightly separated and it was once again difficult for Volskene to identify her among the throng of humanoids. She would spot him eventually, as he realized his distinct appearance in such a venue.

[Judith Eastman]

Nick Dixon

[The Rough Diamond Casino - Tournament Ballroom - Blackjack Table]

The time for nostalgia was over. It was time to get to work. Changing into a different set of silks, something that breathed a bit more, Four made his way into the Ballroom. He had made short work of registering for the poker tournament and decided to kill a little time elsewhere.

Card games were something that he was taught at the Academy. It was something of a prerequisite for Red Squad, for some reason. But, it seemed to be a rather popular activity among Starfleet. So, Four made an honest effort to learn the rules of some of the more popular card games. One of his personal favorites was Blackjack.

A waitress carrying a tray of cigars walked past him as he stopped her. Buying a few, he put one in his mouth and the rest in his pocket. After biting the end off, the waitress lit his cigar for him. He took a few puffs, nodding his thanks to her as he proceeded to one of the Blackjack tables.

Taking a seat, he glanced over to Nick, giving the Terran a nod before turning his attention to the dealer. Setting a stack of chips up on the table, he crossed one leg over the other. Puffing his cigar as he patiently waited for the hand to finish so that he may place his bets and begin gambling.

[Blackjack Table]

This was a game Nick practiced often. Gamblers were oh-so-fond of betting, that he found it easy to make side-bets with them and thus socialize with them. Clients could be had this way.

"Good evening," the old salesman addressed the man next to him. "The name's Nick Dixon. Are you new around here?"
Nick's manner was blunt with his deep voice and steady intonation, but he wasn't particularly intimidating. Perhaps a little seedy, with the receding hairline, but not intimidating.

[Aryn Corliss]

[The Rough Diamond]

After settling into their room and discussing how they were going to play off each other, Alec and Aryn headed to the Rough Diamond. Entering the ballroom was an assault of the senses. There were people of all types, from Andorians to a single Tholian. The couple studiously avoided the Specialist. The smells were overwhelming, as was the noise of gambling machines and all the various beings talking.

Alec and Aryn paused inside and took a collective breath as their intrinsic feel for life was also assaulted. They were playing human, to be less conspicuous, so they had to take care not to allow themselves to be overtaken with Listening. But it would be oh-so-fascinating to just sit in the midst of the action and feel. They would have to be more subtle, however.

They made their way to a blackjack table as a game was finishing up. A couple of people left and Aryn and Alec slid into the vacant seats. There were some others there already, including someone who looked human and a Romulan.

A closer look at the latter, however, caused Alec to tense perceptibly as he sat. The visceral reaction to a Borg drone, even someone so obviously former Borg, was impossible for him to control. The destruction of the El-Aurian homeworld and ensuing flight for safety was indelibly ingrained on his mind.

Aryn noticed his reaction and glanced around for the cause, noticing the former Borg herself and realizing what it must be. She put one hand on his arm and raised a brow to ask if they needed to leave.

With a slight shake of his head, Alec forced himself to relax and plastered a smile on his face. Fortunately, his reaction to the Borg was not that unusual. People might notice, but it shouldn't cause them difficulty.

Do you want to play yourself, my love? Alec asked in his slightly altered accent.

Oh, yes! Aryn responded in a twittery, excited voice. Only I don't know how to play. Can you show me what to do? They'd agreed that she should play slightly silly. Not to the point of idiocy, but she technically only had ten years of knowledge at her disposal. She'd crammed a lot in those ten years, but gambling hadn't been part of that. So she would let Alec be the knowledgeable one and she wouldn't be expected to know anything. That way if she were asked something she couldn't answer, Aryn only had to simper and refer them to her husband, who knew so much more than she did.

Of course, Alec answered superciliously. You want your cards to be equal to or less than twenty-one. The face cards equal ten and an Ace is either one or eleven.

It can be both? Aryn interjected.

It can, indeed, Alec continued. But if you go over twenty-one you lose. Everyone can see your first card, but your others will be face down. Those are the very basics. Maybe you should watch one hand first to get the idea?

Okay, Aryn replied cheerfully, taking Alec's arm and clinging to him.

A waiter came over and asked if they wanted drinks.

Alec considered a moment before saying, Saurian brandy. Do you want anything, dear?

Oh...champagne, please! Aryn giggled. We just got married! she informed the table.