"Planning to Deal"

[Joe Manning 0]

QoB was two hours away from the Gandora colony, still cruising under cloak with the armored car attached to its hull. The destruction of the Vladika had not compelled Starfleet to increase patrols in the region ... not yet, at least. So QoB was able warp across the Federation border without incident. Now, away from Starfleet's prying eyes, it was time to move the tank into the hold.

 

Commander Mench entered the science lab and located Lieutenant Sargh mixing chemicals at a table beside the targ pen. He held a PADD out to the Klingon. "Sargh, here is the complete list of cargo which has been deemed nonessential. There should be enough here to make room for both the tank and the tritanium that we'll be grabbing from Goldrock. I'm putting it in your hands to sell the cargo on Gandora."

 

Sargh took the PADD and glanced over it. "I'll look this over later. I trust that you've had enough sense to make sure that the bloodwine and live targs are classified as anything but nonessential?" He gave Mench a predatory smile.

 

"I didn't prepare the list, Sargh, I only contributed to it." Mench answered. "Just as you had the opportunity to do ... if you weren't too drunk when you received the memo. Besides, it's in your hands now. You remember Gimok? The Ferengi 'artifact' merchant?"

 

"Remember him?" Sargh asked with a chuckle. "I still owe that scum a knife through the face. For a Klingon like me, that makes him an old friend."

 

"Touching," Mench replied. "But this time, you'll be doing business with him. He's our best bet to get a good exchange for the cargo, and I want him alive to make it! After what happened to that cargo freighter, I don't want any incidents that could attract attention to our presence on Gandora. Xandra will be accompanying you, to calm Gimok down and to keep you from pushing him too far."

 

"Understood," Sargh said. "You have briefed her on the fact that 'through the mess hall's targ grinder' doesn't count as too far when it comes to pushing, right?"

 

"Believe me, I have briefed her on the mission." Mench answered with a smirk. "Gimok usually doesn't keep a great deal of latinum on him, so we'll need to receive some of his goods in exchange -- anything small that won't take up too much space in the hold. When we're done with Goldrock, we can come back and resell it."

 

"I think that can be arranged," Sargh replied. "So long as you don't mind carrying exotic weapons; it's hard to beat that sort of thing for value-to-volume ratio, especially when you get into the 'massively illegal' category. It shouldn't matter, though....I figure we've all probably earned our death sentences already, so what's another capital crime or two?"

 

"Well, that sort of trading is hardly frowned upon on Gandora, as long as it's kept discreet. The traders there are -not- averse to turning someone in to Starfleet if someone ticks them off. If anything goes sour with Gimok, you'll have to find other buyers. There are usually a few merchants either doing business in Gandora's canteens or staying in one of the motels. But you'd have to find one who can provide latinum or small goods and without any delays -- that tritanium will be leaving Goldrock in two months, so we can't afford to wait around on Gandora."

 

"I'll make sure things don't go sour with Gimok. It might cost him an eye or two if he tries to cheat us, but the deal will happen."

 

"Good," Mench nodded. "And Sargh ... whatever you do, don't give anyone on that colony reason to believe that we're desperate. It's inevitable that we're going to lose some value, but as soon as someone senses that we're in a rush to offload cargo, its value will plummet. This is another reason I'm sending Xandra with you. She's got a little more ... savvy about these things."

 

"'Savvy', maybe," Sargh said with a scowl. "But any amount of 'savvy' won't replace the power of brute force when it comes to earning the respect that makes people give you a fair deal. I would advise you not to forget who the true warriors on this ship are. I understand that you would naturally place greater trust in your own kind, but we were all members of the Klingon Empire's Deep Space Fleet, and, whatever our idiosyncrasies, were we not competent, we would have been killed long before we withdrew our support for the current government. Trust us, Captain. Trust us, because you know, in our line of work, you can't afford not to."

 

Mench narrowed his eyes when the Klingon turned away and walked back into his private office. "Careful, Mr. Sargh." He muttered to himself with a smirk. "Ms. Collins' savvy may be prove a bit too much for you to handle."