Misinterpretations

Posted on Wed Oct 10, 2018 @ 4:09am by Civilian 'Key Holder' Yolanthe Ibalin & Civilian 'Arrival' Geral Lasuma

2,645 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Victory Conditions
Location: Box of Delight
Timeline: MD 10 1230

[ON]

Stepping into the remains of what had been a club/bar, Geral remained in the entrance as he looked about as the work of clean up and repair continued. Peering into one of the refuse containers he saw the broken remains of a bottle and retrieved it. Wiping away the soot he was able to make out the main portion of the label. Shaking his head, "What shame..."

"Can I help you?"

The speaker was a woman, a very tall woman. She had a good two inches over Geral. She wore a vest that revealed muscled arms and her skin was a dark mustard colour. She had a broom in one hand. Eyes devoid of obvious iris or pupil looked him up and down.

"Pardon the interruption. I can see you have quite a task here. My name is Geral Lasuma. I own the shop that just reopened down the way...in addition to other enterprises. I was wondering if there was any assistance I could offer you. I had spoken with the head of the stations merchant association but in all honesty didn't feel right waiting another 2 day to make my offer."

Spreading his arms. "So here I stand ready to assist you and the rest of the victims of these attacks with whatever is needed. How can I be of assistance and get you operational and show these terrorists we will not be pushed away."

Yolanthe looked at him for a moment. After the last few days, she was not so happy to take everything at face value. Raddon takes his best shot at destroying her life, Veyr arrives like a bad smell and now someone just turns up like a magic fairy with a hat full of wishes? "Thank you, but this isn't part of the pro-human mess. I can manage by myself."

"I have no doubt you can 'manage' but if this..." casting a gesture to the extensive damage around him "...wasn't part of the recent unrest I think you may have bigger problems. I'm a business owner, like yourself, so Im not offering you a handout and would do nothing that insulting. However I do have various means at my disposal to offer should you change you mind.

"I have other merchants to speak with so I will leave you to you tasks then. Good day Madam."

Hoping she would change her mind he bowed his head respectfully, then he turned slowly taking in as much detail as he could as he moved to depart. If this wasn't the work of the terrorists then who?

BIgger problems. Wasn't that the truth. Not offering a hand out? She was suspicious now. "What means?" She wasn't agreeing to anything until she knew the details. But if he was genuine, and not a setup, hearing him out wouldn't cost a lot. The dark yellow of her skin and hair blurred back to the usual violet.

Turning towards her. As I mentioned I have various means at my disposal. The details would of course depend on your needs. Though I think it best that this be discussed in private. Don't you?"

She held still, suspicious still. Then she said, "come this way." She led him through a door marked 'Employees Only', or had been. A stray phaser beam had gouged out the 'ees'.

Back of house was remarkably untouched. Around the doors to front of house there was some smoke damage, but the fire hadn't burnt long enough to do anything more serious than smudge the paint with soot. She took him into her office. It was a plush black and white affair, decorated in ridiculously twiddly rococo style, all flourishes and elegant curved legs. A thick white rug sat on a thick black carpet. The ebony couches had plush white upholstery.

Her desk had a modern touch glass surface, and a large LCARS monitor hung over one couch. The desk itself stood in front of a white painted wall, decorated with a numbers of knives and phasers and disrupters. There was also a pair of gold lame mens briefs that were very brief indeed, and a small leather pouch.

Yolanthe collapsed down into a Louise IV reproduction's chair, her skin turning a swampy green grey. "So, Mr...?...What have you got?"

He took the variation in the decor in stride and took a seat opposite. "First of all let me assure you that there is no need for nervousness or to be anxious around me. I am not here to try and gouge you in a time of need. While I am a businessman I can find reimbursement in various means...be it latinum, favors, information, or even trade.

"What I can do for you? A well established place such as yours should not be in need of funding assistance, but that is available as well. Help with non-replicated merchandise? Perhaps if your regular suppliers can't get you what you need in time to meet your needs. Maybe you need something that your regular contacts are unable to deliver; for whatever reason." Placing and activating a scrambling device on the table before him, "Or, based on your earlier comment, perhaps there are special needs that would deal with any threats to you or your establishment?"

Her skin turned to a brighter yellow than before, more marigold than mustard. "You don't make me nervous, Mr Geral. You make me suspicious. Your timing is very suspicious. You turn up like a fairy godmother. I don't believe in fairies." She eyed the scrambling device. "Especially not ones who come prepared like that. Who do you really work for?"

Geral grinned. "I completely understand your suspicions and if I were in your shoes I would no doubt be saying the same thing. However, let me assure you, I am totally independent. I survived the occupation by turning disadvantage to an advantage. I made myself indispensable to those in power by being able to provide what no one could. One thing led to another and now I have my own fleet of merchant ships and have a wide array of both suppliers and clientele from one side of the quadrant to the other."

Gesturing to the scrambler, "I don't know you, I don't know who your enemies are. You mentioned the damage was not caused by the terrorists so that is a legitimate precaution and will allow both of us to speak freely. If anyone IS listening they are hearing the sectors longest and most flamboyant sales pitch. As to the timing...my shop was finalizing its renovation when everything went to hell. If nothing would have happened I would simply have requested a meeting to out bid your current suppliers. Besides; if the situation were reversed, are you telling me you wouldn't have done something similar?"

"Honestly?" Yolanthe's skin shaded darker again. "Probably not. We're at the far end of the quadrant. I wouldn't want to spare my supplies. Though if you think you can replace some good relationships with a more advantageous offer, I'm all ears."

He nodded. "Understandable when one has limited resources, but we can discuss supply arrangements later. Before I invest in any venture I need to understand the situation. You say the damage you suffered was not the work of the terrorists. This is either incorrect and the group broke in or someone used the terrorists as a cover to get to your establishment or to you. One is a random act that one can do little to prevent. The other is....more complicated but can be dealt with. So which is it?"

The golden yellow of her skin and hair paled three shades. "I think you've got this relationship backwards. I'm not looking for investors. I am open to suppliers." Nerve of the man. swanning in here offering to swoop to her rescue. The stress of the last few days, the constant worry of whether Veyr would return preyed on her mind and she was getting patronized by some jumped up little man?

Her patience, already stretched to breaking point, snapped. "How dare you come into my business unwanted and uninvited? How dare you treat me like some supplicant begging for your scraps?" She stood up so fast her chair was thrown back. "Get out of my bar. Now."

The paranoia of her situation either had her completely befuddled, rising he bowed graciously. "As you wish. I wish you luck with you repairs and hopefully whoever did this is brought to justice...one way or another. Should you reconsider my offer you know where I can be found."

She came round the desk, and pointed to the door. "Thank you but no," she said in tone that said 'fuck off'.

Geral nodded deeply. "As you wish." He turned leaving but stopped and turned back. I'll be going, but there was one thing I found curious. Perhaps you could clarify it for me?"

Not waiting for a reply he continued. "Just before your unfortunate incident i had an interesting visit. This individual defamed your establishment and warned me about you but then a few moments later wanted to join me in offering you help to rebuild....odd, don't you think?"

Yolanthe froze. "Raddon or Gabriel?" It would be the old fart or his dogs body. If it was Raddon, then would that be enough to link him to the attack in the eyes of the law? "Let me guess. I'm a hive of scum and villainy, a blot upon the station? And I wouldn't take his hand if I was drowning. I'd drag him in with me and die happy."

"It was both of them actually. Not only did he mention that your establishment was a 'hive of scum and villainy', but they were both quite calm at the moment the detonation occurred.

"What I found more interesting was that a man of his position, someone who has the hear of the highest levels of leadership in the Federation, was so interested in anything as beneath him as a bar on a space station out in the middle of nowhere. I was suspicious so I tested him, I led him to believe that my assistance would be in some underhanded attempt to gain control over your place and he went from 'the place should have been shut down' to wanting a piece of the action.

"If I may ask, what is it he has against you?"

"He doesn't like the colour of my skin," she said with arch humour, her colouring fading into a pale blue and her hair the colour of cornflowers. "and he won't like the shape of your nose."

Given the recent events, in and around the station, he knew exactly what she was referring to. He definitely had the means to get the members of the Free-Earth movement whatever they needed. "So he's a Free-Earther, or sympathetic to them. Can it be proven?"


She sighed, and sat back down, her previous anger forgotten. "Oh he's definitely pro-human. Had some crazy old goat spouting speciesist rhetoric from his bar, his door policy is pass as human or leave." She brushed a tired hand over her now purple hair. "but an actual direct member of the Free Earth, or terra first or any of those? Not that I know of."

"Well no doubt he has covered his tracks if there is any direct link, but others in his organization may not have been as thorough. First thing is to get you operational if nothing more than as a thorn in his side.

"In order to keep up appearances the only question is what degree of desperation do you want to play to and how much aid do we want him to think you needed?

"I can have a crew here later today to help with cleanup and remodeling; I can dispatch transports to bring in whatever supplies you need; I can even provide funding...though we don't want you looking too desperate."

Me mulled over a few ideas and one seemed to fit the situation. "I know...have me thrown out. Make a scene as you don't want or need my help. No doubt someone heard your previous volume. Then later today...no tomorrow...come by looking for me, be seen inquiring as to where I am etcetera. We set the stage to publicly to get him thinking one thing, while manoeuvring behind the scenes to do undermine and expose him."

The violet vanished to be replaced by a sunflower yellow. "Hold on just a minute!" She fixed him with a glare. "I haven't accepted your help. I don't need your help, and that is not going to change. And whatever scheme you're cooking? Leave me out. I have enough problems with Raddon without you making it worse. And let me make one thing clear. I will never. Ever. Come grovelling to a man!"

Her paranoia had retuned and shook his head slowly. "You really need to control that temper of yours; I meant only for appearances. While my original offer was genuine, you made it very clear you did want assistance. And should we do actual business together that is something else entirely. I only propsed it again to make Raddon think you need help. Especially since he was interested in the possibility of you being in need.

"There was an ancient human philosopher who taught military strategy, though his teaching are equally apt for business. One of his strategies was to pretend weakness in order to encourage the arrogance and mistakes of ones enemy.

"Raddon and his lapdog paid me a visit and I immediately saw him as an arrogant man, one assured of his own self superiority. I didn't survive the occupation; the Circle, the Klingons and the Dominion without knowing how do deal with arrogant self-absorbed ass hats.

"Your establishment was bombed and people killed. How long until other shops, that don't fall in line with his thinking, experience the same or worse. We need to work together, you me, the other owners, all of us."

"It wasn't a bomb. It was two rival gangs having a shoot out." She didn't want to add that they'd both been some sort of snatch squads sent to retrieve her personally. No-one needed to know that. "And any one who died probably deserved it. Its not something that is going to impact other traders." She hoped.

He eyes widened, "A shoot out...really? From my shop it sure as hell looked and sounded like a bomb. And frankly a shoot out wouldn't have done the damage I walked through." He was tiring fo all the back and forth. If she want to face things alone so be it and he moved to leave. "If you want to face things alone that is your choice, but a united front would be better for everyone."

She said nothing, refusing to be drawn on detail. He could think what he liked. She had no pressing desire to tell him about the grenades and the ridiculous state-of-the-art tech each side had been wielding, taken from far more martial cultures than the Federation. She also knew Veyr at least would return, and his wrath with her had already seen him kill innocent bystanders. Well. Reshi turned out to be not so innocent, but he hadn't deserved that end. "There's no need to unite. This was a private matter. But yes, beware of Raddon. He is a snake." She pointed to the door. "The promenade is that way."

Geral bowed his head gentlemanly and departed. Thinking to himself as he made his way back through the charred remain of the bar. ~If she wanted to go it alone so be it. There were other ways to win her over.~

[OFF]


Geral Lasuma
Owner Lasuma Enterprises

Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner
The Box of Delights

 

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