Corrie's Virgin Corruption

Posted on Tue Mar 3rd, 2015 @ 1:40pm by Ensign Corrine Steiner
Edited on on Thu Mar 5th, 2015 @ 2:49pm

Mission: Ill Tidings
Location: Warp-12 Lounge
Timeline: Evening

[ON]

Corrine Steiner had met with the janitor and agreed to meet with Choople. It wasn't because sympathy swayed her. No. No amount of comeuppance would cause those little trolls to change their ways. Guilt drove her to agree. Deserved or not, she had gotten him into a lot of trouble the first time they'd met. She realized that she would probably regret it later, but she showed up at Warp-12 and ordered an ancient toasted Subway sandwich.

The economic predator locked onto her almost immediately. Carefully, he circled wide around her trying to gauge his prospective customer's mood. At length, he silently presented himself a short distance away.

Corrie finished sipping at her straw, "Come on, sit down."

Fears crossed his mind of social consequences if this hooman decided to start screaming again. But Farbleton's Law prevailed, 'Fear and potential profits are inversely proportional quantities.'

He nervously took a seat, "H-how are y-you feeling today, pretty hooman?" Actually, Choople had no idea if this hooman was pretty or not. But he learned at mamma concubine's knee, "Schmooze anyway."

Corrie folded up her sandwich wrapper. Her tone was direct, but not unkind, "What do you want, little man?"

The little man, as it were, was busting proverbial buttons to probe her Starfleet Intel connection. In light of their previous encounter, however, business prudence motivated him towards relationship building first. He projected a small hologram from his hand computer.

"A space ship." Corrie activated her ornate bracelet, causing a small holoscreen to project above the bottom of her wrist. Beckoning him with fingers on her other hand to transmit, she downloaded the presentation. After her wrist computer stripped away a cluster of marketing worms, she examined the image for herself. As she curled her fingers inward, virtual keys and control icons darkened. She zoomed in, rotated the views, and then shook her head. "Antique transport... looks like junkyard salvage."

After making a mental note to later cross-sell cutting edge wrist computer upgrades to her, he nodded. "It is. I wouldn't waste money on a brand new ship just to burn radioactive wastes."

"Come again?"

Not that anyone had interest in eavesdropping at the moment, Choople glanced around with worry. He then confided, "Everybody laughs at me for investing in a slow transport. Only the newest, fastest, fuel efficient designs can undercut rivals."

Corrie sipped at her drink, "But..."

He became more excited, "But even if I use slow transports, what if I could run them on free energy?!"

"You mentioned radioactive wastes."

"Yes! Exactly! Do you know how many pre-warp, Federation-aware planets there are who are swimming in radiation waste? All their options have begged disastrous consequences! Poison their own planets and oceans... dump it into the sun and pay the piper later for it... or Earth's genius stupid solution of burying mega dumps on the moon" Puzzled, he leaned closer for a moment, "Tell me, after it blew up and threw your moon out of orbit, did you ever get it back?"

She multi-tasked his conversation in matter-of-fact manner, still focusing on details of his business file. "Yes, as a matter of fact. The Q put it back... said it was annoying the galaxy wherever it went." She then moved her wrist aside to make eye contact, "This ship can convert toxic waste radiations into viable propulsion fuels?"

Staring at the display, he shrugged. "Well, each engine has to be customized for each different type of waste."

"How many of these transports do you have?"

"Fully operational? Um... let me see." He then came clean. "One. But! I have financing ready for three more!"

Corrie studied the file and nodded, "I actually like this."

"YOU DO? YOU'RE KIDDING ME!" He quickly recovered his lost professional demeanor. "I mean... I see that you're a true visionary like myself!"

She sat back and folded her arms, "Your problem is, most space ports won't permit waste laden ships to dock."

Seeing the Ferengi's bony forehead bonk down on the table gave her the answer.

Corrie whispered to herself, "I can't believe I'm doing this..." She closed out her wrist file, leaned forward, and folded her hands. "Okay. My terms and conditions. First, all inbound ships go through inspection."

"Logical." He pridefully added, "Vulcans say that, you know!"

"Second, all engineering seals and barriers are Federation-certified parts."

"Are you kidding me? I can get bargain parts at thirty percent cost!"

Corrie sat motionless, giving him a cold, sullen stare.

Becoming nervous, he acquiesced, "Ohhh, O-kay."

"Three. You don't charge your client planets one red quatloo for their rad waste."

Genuinely alarmed, the little man stood up, "FREE? You'd have me do the F-word!? I'd rather drink a shot of Aqua Velvet!"

Corrie continued her calm stride, "Choople, what's going to happen if your plan works?"

He settled back into his seat, "Copycats will set up competing franchises."

"And how will they undercut your price?"

He sounded mopey like a little boy, "Free pickup."

"Or worse. They'll offer to pay the customer for it."

One would have thought that the Ferengi had been shot by the way he winced in pain. "Noooooo!"

Corrie's tone became kind, "Treat your customer fairly. If you abide by my conditions..." She caught herself, "And don't use those ships to smuggle contraband... then I'll see you get long term Federation docking passes."

Choople got the big eyes, "Long term? Bribe free?"

Corrie gave him a slow nod.

Ecstatic, the Ferengi stood up and proudly gestured the Ferenginar Business Salute. Corrie, however, didn't return that salute. Instead, she extended her hand in lady-like fashion. To seal the deal, he would actually have to (gasp!) shake hands with a hooman woman!

After he departed with all due jubilance, Corrie sat in a wistful stare. "I can't believe I just did that. God have mercy on me!" She couldn't bring herself to regret it, though. Profitable to Ferengi or not, this could bring critical ecological and health relief to colonies.

[OFF]

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Corrine Steiner
Choople
Starbase 332
Pegasus Fleet