Purple Stuff

Posted on Feb 06, 2015 @ 12:11pm by Commander Jacob Crichton
Edited on on Feb 06, 2015 @ 12:12pm

Mission: Limbo

= Purple Stuff =

(cont'd from "Check The Vows")


LOCATION: LIMBO

SCENE: Ferengi Trade Mission

STARDATE: [2.15] 0202.1420



The walkways were thronged with denizens from a hundred worlds, a technicolor cornucopia of greens, blues, purples, and pinks, wrapped in an assortment of garments as wide and varied as the creatures that wore them. This was the "nice" part of town, as much as that could be said of any part of Limbo; the seedy nightclubs and brothels had given way to nice restaurants, fine clothiers, and trade floors where fortunes of latinum moved from hand to greedy hand. Gone were the sallow faces of the hopelessly addicted, the empty eyes of prostitutes who'd been at it for too long, or the hungry stares of budding criminals hoping to make their name. They'd been replaced with wealthy businessmen, debutantes, and gentlemen thieves with untrustworthy smiles. Their clothes were nicer, their skin cleaner, and they didn't smell so bad, but none of that changed the essential nature of these people who'd found a way to thrive in a place like Llimbo. The only real difference between the wealthy up here and the dregs down below was that these people were lucky as well as ruthless.



Raxl Dreyton could feel their suspicious stares and sidelong glances as he picked his way through the crowd. It was clear he didn't belong here- a look at his clothes or his unkempt mess of greying hair and stubble told them that- and more than a few people crossed to the other side of the walkway or lowered their hands to their sidearms as Raxl walked by. Rax smiled cheerfully at those that would deign to meet his gaze, taking some small, vengeful pleasure in the way the frowned back at him.



The Ferengi Trade Mission was up ahead, its entrance flanked by two enormous Gorn mercenaries. Their armor was new, almost shiny, but Rax could see the blades that each guard carried were nicked and scratched and stained with the signs of frequent- and perhaps even recent- use. The lizard men stared at Rax impassively as he approached, apparently not regarding him as a threat. Relief and mild offense battled for space on Raxl's face as he came to a stop before them.



"I'm here to see DaiMon Snek," Raxl said.



The Gorn stared at him, motionless.



"I have an appointment," Rax offered.



The Gorn exchanged a glance, then one of them stepped forward to tower over Rax while his (its?) counterpart activated a comm device mounted on the wall behind them.



"There's a human here asking for you, DaiMon," the second Gorn grumbled into the comm unit.



There was a moment's silence, which Rax weathered in silence as the first Gorn stood before him, all pointy teeth and corded muscle. Rax smiled up at the creature while he waited for Snek to send word to let him in.



[[Does he have any money?]] a voice sleazed back from the comm. The second Gorn glanced at the first, who emitted a low, rumbling growl from deep inside it's barrel chest.



"Uh... not as such," Rax said.



[[Then clear him out!]] the voice barked. [[No loitering!]]



This was good enough for the Gorn. Both of them advanced on him now, backing Raxl up a few steps until the small of his back struck the lip of the walkway rail. Behind him yawned a drop of at least 30 feet to one of the lower walkways. Raxl spared a quick glance at the drop, decided he was too old to start his life over with a broken back, and put both his hands up in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable gesture.



"I'm Raxl Dreyton," Rax said quickly. "Snek's expecting me! A mutual friend was supposed to call ahead."



"Move along," the first Gorn said in clunky, thickly accented English. The second emitted another one of those long, low growls to reinforce his partner's point.



"Brak," Raxl said. "Tell him I'm a friend of Brak!"



"Three seconds," the first Gorn said. The two reptillian giants loomed so close to Rax now that he was leaning backward, his upper body now hanging over the long drop behind him. Rax had time to wonder how exactly he was supposed to clear out of here when the Gorn were practically folding him in half over the railing.



"Snek owes Brak a favor," Raxl said. "Or maybe there was supposed to be a finder's fee for Snek, I don't know."



"Two seconds," the Gorn rumbled.



"I'm Raxl Dreyton," Rax said, sparing another glance at the drop behind him. "Just tell him to check his appointment log--"



"Three seconds," the Gorn said. "Time's up."



The two lizardmen reached out, their clawed hands fastening tightly around each of Rax's shoulders in almost perfect unison. In another second, they'd push him, sending him toppling over the railing to land in a heap of broken bones on the catwalk below. Rax decided not to give them the opportunity.



With speed he was surprised he could still manage, Rax's hands dropped, grabbing at the handles of the large blades each Gorn wore at their side. He drew and yanked upward with them as smoothly as he could manage, sparing a moment to mentally congratulate these Gorn for keeping their weapons in such good condition. The large blades cut neatly into their armor, not cutting deep enough to disembowel but still managing to etch an ugly, jagged wound in each of their stomachs. Green blood spurted from the wounds, splashing across Raxl's hands and forearms.



The sudden attack had distracted the Gorn long enough for Rax to drop, sliding out of their grasp. He charged forward like a linebacker, shoulderchecking the two Gorn and managing to plow past them. The Gorn didn't fall, but they fell back a half step, and Rax's momentum was enough to carry him past as their hands clawed at the air trying to catch him.



Rax whirled, bringing the two blades up to form an X before him. The Gorn each spared a moment to inspect their wounds, and Rax was disappointed to see that despite the spurting green blood, the cuts were mostly superficial. The crowd on the catwalk around them had formed a wide circle, giving Rax and the Gorn plenty of room while staying close enough to see when/if anyone got their head taken off. Rax realized with some alarm that the smart money was not on him.



"Easy now fellas," Rax said, trying to sound reasonable. "I just need to talk to Snek. I don't want any trouble."



The first Gorn responded with a bellow and charged. It was surprising quick for a creature its size, but Rax had anticipated the move, and as one of the Gorn's large, scaly hands reached for him, Rax sidestepped and brought the two blades down quickly. They cut evenly through the middle of the Gorn's hand, severing its third and forth finger. The creature bellowed in pain and rage and swept its other hand through the air so fast that it nearly tore through Raxl's cheek. Rax tucked his head back just in time, missing the worst of the blow but still ending up with a trio of long scratches along his temple.



The Gorn was already attacking again, bring its wounded hand up in clawing upward strike, apparently paying no need to the still spurting wounds were its severed fingers had been only a moment before. Rax jumped back, missing the attack with ease, and then lunged. The tips of his two blades bit through the Gorn's armor again, sliding in perhaps three-quarters of an inch before the seemed to catch on something and stopped. The Gorn wrenched its body to the side, and the handles of the two blades, slick with green blood, slipped out of Raxl's grip.



The Gorn stumbled back a half-step, and looked down at its chest. The two blades stuck out like pins, blood dribbling from where they disappeard into the Gorn's armor and scaly chest, but the Gorn didn't seem particularly concerned. As Rax watched, the second Gorn stepped up and yanked its own blade from its counterparts chest. The first Gorn did the same with the remaining blade, not seeming to notice the fresh spurt of blood from its chest as it did so, and then Rax was once again facing to large, angry, and armed Gorn. He'd surprised them once before, but he doubted he'd get the chance a second time.



"I really think we got off on the wrong foot here," Rax said, quickly backing up until his back struck the sealed metal door of the Ferengi Trade Mission.



The Gorn didn't reply. They simply advanced on him, the tips of their blades shiny with green blood. To Raxl, the blades had been like shortswords, but for the Gorn they were more like daggers. They'd been sharp enough to cut through armor and the Gorn's tough skin; Rax didn't want to think about how cleanly those blades would slice through him.



Fortunately, the Gorn didn't get the chance. Rax felt the door behind him slide open, and Rax tumbled backwards to land on his back. He looked up to see a hunched, ugly Ferengi sneering down at him with a mouth full of yellow, pointed teeth. The Ferengi was wearing a garment of what looked like fine silk, and seemed to be wearing several gaudy-looking necklaces mounted with large jewels, though from this angle it was hard to be sure.



Rax quickly lifted his head to see that the Gorn had stopped at the threshold, their blades quivering in their large hands with thwarted menace. Reptillian humanoids were sometimes hard to read, since their emotional spectrum was usually different from most mammals, but Rax didn't need to be an expert in xenopsychology to see what these Gorn had in mind for him.



"That's enough, I think," the Ferengi said, glancing up at the Gorn. "Really, what a pitiful showing. One fleshy pink hu-mahn, all alone, and he manages to do this to you. Tsk tsk tsk."



The Ferengi glanced down at Raxl, and smiled another ugly, toothy grin.



"Sorry for the reception, but you could have been *anyone*," he said. "I've got more than a few people on Limbo who might like the chance to get close to me. I had to be sure you were who you said you are."



"And you couldn't run a scan on me while I waited patiently outside?" Raxl scowled up at him.



"I *could* have, I suppose," the Ferengi said with a casual shrug. "But I've heard stories of your time in the Pit. I could never pass up an opportunity to see Mr. Raxl Dreyton in action."



"Great," Raxl said. "You've heard of me."



"Oh yes," the Ferengi nodded eagerly. "Brak's told me a lot about you, not to mention Daheel. Now get up and come inside, Mr. Dreyton! We have much to discuss!"



Rax got to his feet with a groan. He glanced back at the two Gorn, who still were stopped at the threshhold and staring icily at him. Their wounds still dribbled blood, but they still hadn 't seemed to notice.



"Oh, them," the Ferengi said, sounding disinterested. "Don't worry, they'll leave you alone now. Won't you, boys?"



As Rax watched, the Gorn stepped back. The one with the maimed hand stooped, picked up its severed fingers, and tucked them into a pocket on their armor. Their eyes never left Rax.



"Are you coming?" the Ferengi said. Rax turned and followed DaiMon Snek into the building, leaving the two angry Gorn at the door behind him.



=[/\]=



SCENE: Atria - Forum



Jake Crichton sat a small table in one of the eateries, nursing a glass of some shimmery, purple liquid with a surprisngly powerful kick. From where he was sitting, he could see Russ, arguing with a squat Bolian merchant. Russ kept trying to offer up a PADD for the Bolian's inspection, and the Bolian kept pushing it aside and gesturing at a large display of cybernetic organs for various specids. Jake could see robotic versions of human hearts, Klingon livers, and even a rare set of cybernetic eyes, their multifaceted lenses reminding Jake of the eyes of a preying mantis. Russ shook his head and offered the PADD again, but with no effect, and Russ didn't look like he was in the mood for an upgrade. Eventually, Russ turned and made his way back to Jake, flopping down in the chair next to him.



"This was a bust," he said sourly.



"I think you could have gotten a deal on those bug eyes," Jake said, taking another sip of the purple drink and wincing a little at the cloying sweet taste.



"Thanks, but I like the ones I was born with," Russ said. "Did you do any better?"



"I got a few people to at least glance at her picture," Jake shrugged. "Nobody admitted to seeing her around yet."



"That's more than I got," Russ said.



Jake shrugged. "Maybe she hasn't arrived at the station yet."



"Not likely," Russ frowned. "I think these people just know better than to rat anybody out. It can be dangerous in a place like this."



"So what do we do?"



"There's got to be at least a half dozen information brokers somewhere on this station," Russ said. "If anyone's going to find Selyara or Seth, I'd count on one of them."



"Great," Jake said. "How do we get them to cooperate?"



"What, I have to come up with the whole plan?" Russ asked. "Money or violence, I think those are the only two languages everyone speaks around here."



"I guess it's either that or go door to door," Jake sighed. "So, what kind of money are we talking here?"



"More than we have," Russ said. "Can I have a sip of that?"



Jake offered the purple drink. Russ took a sip, and his face screwed up at the sweet taste. Then he went back for another sip.



"Careful, it's got a kick," Jake warned. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, trying to think of how they could approach an information broker. It was more than just a matter of having enough credits to catch their attention; information brokers were usually careful about doing business with strangers. A couple Federation fugitives showing up unannounced with a pile of money would likely raise their suspicions. And, of course, there was always the risk the broker would rat them out to Edgerton and the Essentialists... Jake spared a moment to vainly wonder how big the price on his head was.



"Wow," Russ said, after finishing half the drink and shuddering a little.



"Have the others arrived from the PHOENIX yet?" Jake asked.



"They haven't checked in yet," Russ said. "Maybe they just don't have anything to report."



"Well, if they strike out too, we might have no choice but to start fundraising," Jake said. He glanced around at the marketplace. He could see a few dozen kiosks, stretching off in either direction, not to mention all the levels above and below them. Millions, maybe billions, of credits must have changed hands in this place on a daily basis. Surely they could afford to "donate" a few to a worthy cause...



"Jake, I don't like it when you look like that," Russ said, waving his hand in front of Jake's eyes to get his attention. "What are you thinking?"



"Something drastic," Jake said. "Why don't we rendezvous with the others, see if they've had any more luck. If not, we can talk about it some more."



"Okay," Russ said. He considered the purple drink for a moment, then finished it in a few greedy gulps before standing. The buzz had snuck up on him, and for a moment he swayed on his feet, shaking his head until the cobwebs were clear. "Hoo-boy. That was a strong drink."



"Told you," Jake said, shouldering his rucksack.



"You think they have to-go cups?" Russ asked hopefully.



=[/\]=



NRPG: Had some free time, so I thought I'd get another post out, but I wanted to wait until a few more people are aboard Limbo before I start doing anything with the search for Selyara.



Shawn Putnam

a.k.a.

Jake Crichton

Chief Engineering Officer

USS PHOENIX