Making the Bargain

Posted on Sun Oct 31st, 2010 @ 10:38am by Lieutenant JG Jonathan Royce

Mission: Ten Little Diplomats
Location: SB 332 - Krak's Knick-Knacks
Timeline: MD01 2000

Baric walked into large shop that seemed to be doing a pretty brisk business. The walls and shelves were lined with all manner of items. There were remote control models of space ships in a variety types and sizes, action figures, toy weapons, holodisks, clothing, curios of just about anything one could be looking for. Baric walked past them. Nothing on the shelves that could be bought over the counter interested him. He went staight to the counter in the back.

"You Krak?" He asked the Ferengi bent over behind the counter, arranging jewelry in the display case.

The Ferengi with the largest lobes Baric had ever seen stood up. "Who's asking?" He replied with a nasaly voice.

"A mutual friend said that he's the one to see for hard to get items."

"A mutual friend, huh? Well, if you don't see it on the shelves," Krak said. "We don't have it." He returned to rearranging the jewelry.

"I only deal in full bars." Baric said.

That seemed to get the Ferengi's interest.

"Perhaps we could talk someplace a little more private." Baric suggested.

Krak eyeballed him, considering the risk of talking to someone who could be an agent of the stations security trying to trap him. He was a pretty good judge of character. He had to be or he would have been out of business a long time ago. Krak finally came to the decision that it wouldn't hurt to find out what the Human wanted and directed him behind the counter to an office.

"This room is regularly swept for bugs and electromagnetically shielded. It's safe to talk in here. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for some hardware."

"Just how hard are we talking about."

"Nothing terribly exotic." Baric said. "I need a pulse phaser rifle. Portable, preferably modular, with holographic sight and invisible photon burst."

"What makes you think I carry anything like that? That kind of thing is illegal without the proper license, which is very hard to get, and they're very, very expensive."

"I hear you're very resourseful, and money isn't a problem."

"Why do you need something like that?"

"It's better for you if you don't know. It's also best if nobody else knows."

"Part of my lease requires that I cooperate in all matters when it comes to station security."

"Which is why it's best you don't know. I'll throw in a little extra."

Krak looked him up and down. "Wait here."

The Ferengi went through a different door into another room and came out a moment later carrying a hard shell case. He set it on the desk and opened the lid. The interior was heavily padded with formed cut-outs in which nested three pieces of a very high-tech sniper pulse phaser rifle.

"This is the Mark 4 Mod 3 Pulse Phaser. It has an effective range of three kilometers. Beyond that the energy of the pulse decreases ten percent per hundred meters. Within one kilometer it will penetrate most known forms of body armor, personal force fields, or other shielding. It's modified so that the pulse isn't the typical Federation blue. It's not visible, so it can't be immediately followed back to the source. The holographic sight magnifies up to 800 percent and compensates for any interference that could alter the trajectory of the pulse. The case has a programmable lock. Three wrong tries and it destroys the contents."

Baric took the firing chamber assembly out of the case. There were five power packs underneath it, each in its own cut out area of the insulation. It was surprisingly light.

"How many shots per pack?" Baric asked.

"Ten at full power, twenty-five at minimum setting."

"I'll give you one hundred bars, and another twenty-five that I was never here."

The Ferengi laughed heartily. "Do you do comedy on the side?" He managed to sputter out. Once he regained his composure he countered, "A thousand for the rifle."

"Three hundred."

"Nine hundred."

"Come on, Krak, be reasonable."

"You're the one who wants the rifle. Just how badly do you need it?"

"Five hundred."

"Eight hundred, and you keep your mouth shut."

"Deal."

Baric took an isolinear chip out of his tunic and inserted it into a device that Krak handed him. He punched in his authorization code, entered the amount to transfer and placed his finger on the ID pad. With that, the transaction was complete. The holding companies would take care of the transfer of the hard bars themselves, each of them outside of Federation jurisdiction so that the identities of the account holders was kept confidential.

"Nice doing business with you." Krak said, his oddly angled teeth sharp and gleaming."

Baric put the firing chamber back in the case, closed it and programmed the security code. His eyes then turned cold as he faced the Ferengi. "I paid you well, we both know you got more than you would have for this thing. Remember, I was never here and this transaction never took place. I have friends who'll find out if you whisper one word of this to so much as a house plant. I hope I'm making myself clear."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Consider it a friendly warning." Baric replied, then left the room and the shop.

Baric's communicator chirped. His team had some old Starfleet issue flip-type that they acquired and modified to extend their range and scramble the signals with a random encryption sequence. He found a secluded alcove and flipped it open. "Baric."

"We have company." Jenna said. "One of the eggs just cracked."

"Did our sponsors send backup just in case we weren't able to get into the chicken coup?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Looks like a fox is loose in the feed yard. So much the better for us."