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2380 - On the Hunt

[Vanya | Lobe Lovers Club | Rentran | Romulan "Lawless" zone ]

Vanya took a snort off the mind altering chemical from the lower back and between the pale blue buttocks.    This was humiliating of course.   The façade was a dull one, unfortunately it was also utterly necessary, she had no idea how many peepholes were watching her and it was necessary to keep up appearances.   Her makeshift receptacle, an Andorian male lay passed out on the futon.   She was spared the impact of the narcotic, and her android senses meant that she could also tune out the less than fragrant nature of both the behind and the burning orange powder.   It didn’t stop her bouncing up and down though, laughing with excitement as if she had gotten a hit from the chemical.    Appearances had to be maintained     

She didn’t feel much about her passed out friend.    He was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time.  

She was in the Lobe Lovers zone, one of Rentran’s seediest facilities.   Here, in exchange for a small fee, people could enjoy themselves in a variety of ways, usually involving a distinct lack of clothes and inhibitions    As long as the house got its cut – usually referred to as accommodation fees, but more accurately a cut of whatever had been sold, the house was always accommodating.   

She eased herself into the ridiculous outfit that she wore   Tight purple latex that held her ample bust in place, with a neckline that was inviting to well, any full blooded being with a labidio,     Her back was low, giving away as much of her backside as it could without giving free access to whatever implements or appendages passers by wanted to expose her to.   Her bare legs were on show, finishing the look were knee high boots and elbow high gloves.   

She picked up a pouch of jewels and made sure they were safe before securing them in her modest hold all.    As she opened the door, pulsating music hit her ears, as a variety of lifeforms took part in lewd and suggestive dances with each other    High up in cages were house dancers, clad in boots and gloves comparable to her own and even less than she wore.    Various pairs broke off and hunted for a vacant “nook” where they may enjoy an appreciation of each others company.  

She walked over to a desk by the exit.   Sitting there was a scowling Ferengi flanked by 2 Klingons.   From their dress, Vanya could tell these were mercenaries, rather than warriors in the army.     She dropped a handful of jewels from her bag onto the table.   The Ferengi appraised each one carefully.    
“I must say this is well above our usual accommodation rate”  he said.   “You should consider lowering your prices if you still want to trade here.”  

Vanya smirked and added more jewels “Well people pay for quality.    I’d like to speak to the boss.”     

The Ferengi sneered “As far as you’re concerned im…”    a light flashed on the desk.    Vanya looked at the Ferengi, a hint of smugness in her face.   

He hit a button and a panel of the desk moved back.    “Room at the back of the corridor, hurry up.”     

Vanya went through the door behind the desk and marched down the corridor   The music started to die down again.    The Corridor was well lit, and probably looked like the rest of the club would look like in the same light.   Disrepair, sad stains, and signs of lost dreams.   

She spotted what looked like an armoury, with weapons piled on shelves on one half of the building, and three cots.    Vanya guessed that they were for the Klingon Heavies on the desk and one other    Opposite that room was an opulent looking boudoir, with a small dancing stage, and a obsencely huge bed.    Finally at the end of the corridor was a pair of red leather doors.   Sitting on a stool in front of them was another Klingon.    He appeared to be playing some kind of morose game on his PADD.    He saw her ears, and looked back down at his PADD.   This rudest a Klingon male could be dressed to a female in Vanya’s dress.  

The Ferengi rose from his desk.   Huge stacks of latinum were on display.    Behind the desk there was a work bench and a floor to ceiling safe.  

“Hello my dear, you said you wanted to talk?”  

“Yes”   she said.   “I’m a singer, and I’d like a job.” 

“You’re the first singer I’ve seen dressed like that…” he said gesturing to her.    “Sooo near to being naked, and yet still somewhat dressed, its perverse.”   He said. 

“In most other places singers don’t get paid, at least not in the quantities I need .” Vanya said, clutching her arm in a gesture designed to seduce her quarry.  

“Oh…   and what do you need money for?”  asked the Ferengi. 

“I’d rather not say.” Vanya said looking around nervously.  

“My little Romulan heathen, if you do want to enter into my employ, I make it my business to know, well, your business, particularly when you command such a high price for your, what was that earth term?   Side hustle.”  

“I need to get to Romulus.” 
Vanya said.     “Into the Loyalist side.”   

“Oooooh and there it is.”  Laughed the Ferengi  rubbing his right earlobe.   “You need a forger don’t you?” he asked.  

“Look, if this is a sting…” started Vanya.   Since the Romulan Empire had fractured, space controlled by the Loyalist Faction was buttoned up tighter than this creep’s vault    However credentials could be forged.  

“No, no, not at all…”   he said.   “I am sure that we can find an arrangement.    In fact, I dabble in the art myself.   Perhaps we could come to an arrangement.   I could supply a replica if you will, of Loyalist Credentials, if you would do some short term… comfort work for me, in payment.   I’ll even let you keep the tips.”  

“I don’t know.” Started Vanya, letting the game go along.   “I hadn’t heard about you doing this.”  

He moved over to the safe and entered the security code and put his hand on the scanner, the door snapped open.   

"I've  done some of my best work in here."  

Theat was all Vanya needed.   She dashed across to him.     Before the Ferengi could react, Vanya had lifted him up by the Lapels and brought him down hard on his ornate desk.   Despite the decoration, it splintered like paper.  

The guard outside entered with a disruptor aimed at her.  Vanya swooped up the dazed Ferengi and held him between her and the door.   

“Let him go.” Said the Klingon.    

“Can’t, Bumpy.” Vanya said.   “He’s been ripping you off and people want him.”    

“She’s lying…”   the Ferengi started to omit an odur that suggested that Vanya certainly wasn’t lying   

“Tell you what Bumpy” Vanya said.   “Do you have a scanner in that belt.” 

The Klingon nodded and showed her.    A Ferengi Profit Checker 9000.     Perfect. 

“Alright.   I’m not going to do anything to this troll until you scan the Latinum in there, okay?   

The Klingon complied and waved his scanner in the direction of the safe     The scanner pinged to show that it was clear for Latinum.  

“See?   Now kill her.” Her quarry hissed.   

She kicked over her bag.   “Middle pouch scan the latinum in there.”   The scanner pinged again.  

“Now.”   Said Vanya.   “On your scanner set your resolution to an oscillating frequency in the blue…” she looked at the Klingon’s vacant expression.  

“Press the Square button twice, the green control 8 times, press the blue button and then press the green button one more time.” She said as slowly as she could without agrivating the Klingon.  

He nodded to say he had done it  “Now scan my bag again.”  

The scanner beeped  the all clear.  

He pointed the scanner at the safe.   The scanner emitted a sharp alarm, and half of all of the latinum exploded   There was a fizzing and about half of the bars exploded.  

“My merch…. I mean, I’ve been conned!” The prey protested.
“Now” said Vanya.  Do you have last nights pay in that belt?” 

The Klingon took out a strip of latinum.   He ran over it with his scanner, that once again gave a shrill alarm before exploding.  

“I’m a bounty hunter.”   Vanya said.   “I’ve been ordered to track this toad down.  He’s conned many other people besides you.”

“An accounting error!” insisted the Ferengi.   “Please, Larry, get her off me and we’ll straighten this out over some bloodwine.”   

“Larog.” The Klingon said.    “My name is Larog.”   

“But I consider you Larry in an affectionate manner.” He said.  

Vanya was bored, she hurtled the Ferengi into the door, his head bounced, and he fell to the ground.  

“Okay Bumpy, talking time is over.”    She gestured towards the bag.    “In there must be what, 3 – 4 weeks worth of wages to compensate you for your time, plus enough glitter to open even a Pakled mind.

The Klingon grabbed the bag, by the time he looked back, she and her prey were already beaming away.  
Inhabiting my head are:

[Lt. Vanya |Assistant Science Officer| USS Theurgy]

[Lt. J.G Foval |Assistant Diplomatic Officer |USS Theurgy]

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