IKC FHew 7C6110
New Blood – The Bazaar
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & HoD Ro' Matlh
Post Details
Smells threatened to overwhelm Marie. She had entered the hall to carry out a few transactions. It shouldn't have been too difficult but now she found herself in the midst of a plethora of sights and sounds and....and smells. Her stomach threatened to empty its contents at any moment. The only problem with that was that she'd done that back at...back at...back at somewhere.
Shouted voices assailed her from all sides, each vying to outdo the other. She turned and saw a man gesticulating wildly. She made out something about special but whatever came before or after was lost in the general cacophony.
She pressed her fingers to her temples then she massaged the crown of her head. She was surprised when her fingers came away slightly sticky. She prodded gingerly. Germite better have a sore forehead is all I can say, she thought.
She wandered over to a stall to inspect the wares on offer.
Vang'Ka pointed to a raktajino machine. "It will install directly into your ship's mess."
Marie wondered vaguely whether that had been a joke but decided the comment had been innocently intended. Nothing about her indicated she was from the FHew and she doubted anyone here knew who she was. So any reference to the ship's perpetual state of disarray was purely incidental.
She dismissed the offer with a wave of her hand. That tiny thing wouldn't keep the Klingons on board in raktajino. The way they went through the stuff it would have a fit and collapse in exhaustion after a few hours. Within a week it would be dead from persistent and extended overuse.
Still, the thought wasn't a bad one. Raktajino might be just the thing right now, she thought. What's the worst that could happen? As long as I make sure I don't throw up on some Klingon's boots I should be fine.
She spotted a stall selling beverages and headed over. New smells assailed her, threatening to turn her stomach afresh but she persevered.
“One mug of raktajino to take away,” she ordered.
The Vendor behind the bar took in the ragged human, and what she was wearing. She had ship clothes on, that was obvious. A foot slogger would wear through those boots in days. That meant she probably did have money, and not a lot of time to spend it.
"Straight up, Double strong, dark, Targ-white or Bender?" He asked reaching reaching for a pewter mug.
Bender sounder over-the-top, even in her present state. Make that especially in my present state, she thought. "Double strong with milk and throw in an extra sugar. Please," she added for good effect.
He raised his eyes and put the pewter back and retrieved a wooden mug, "Good choice. I can see this isn't your first cup. If you want I can give you some quality grounds. Discounts for large sale. You from a Klingon ship?"
She took a sip of the brew. "If it's anything like this muck I won't be buying any. Mind you, you did say give.... At that price I could be persuaded to take a kilo or two. Perhaps...."
The Vendor didn't miss a beat, "I'll be happy to give you the discount on orders in double figures. For only a couple of kilos, you are going to have to pay for any discounts.
"Give me some figures. Let us say fifty kilos of your finest and the same for second grade. And don't try telling me you don't deal in second grade goods. Every vendor worth their salt deals in different quality because not everyone can afford the best stuff."
Vang'Ka saw his business being taken away by another vendor. He strode over to Marie. "I can see you're not the usual tourist. I am prepared to offer you a deal on 50 kilos of top grade and 50 kilos of mid-grade, plus, I'll throw in a cafe quality raktajino machine."
The other stall keeper snorted at Vang'Ka, "If you prefer to deal with him, then you deserve the grind you get. I care about the quality of my grinds and my customs. I will not insult your crew by offering them grinds a Human could not expect to differentiate. The name of my house, NIt'a', goes on my goods, and if the goods are not of quality it reflects badly on my name, my house, and my business. I offer you 50 kilos of NIt'a' grounds but you can buy your 'export quality' from somewhere else."
Vang'Ka retorted, "Bah, our top grade comes from the house of Veet'oria plantations. Our mid-grade comes from the house of Kur'aff plantations. Either of these brands is superior to NIt'a'."
"And yet," Came the retort, "I do not need to give away trinkets to entice others to buy."
Marie was enjoying this. It took all the hard work out of bargaining if the the traders themselves did the haggling. All three were respected brands and probably wasted on the likes of the F'Hew crew but that didn't mean she couldn't indulge herself. "Talk some figures," she instructed curtly.
The NIt'a merchant folded his arms, "Drink first. If you do not think my product is worth every strip i ask for it, then I do not want to do business with you. I will not throw my product away cheap to those who do not appreciate the finer things."
Marie took a sip and spat the it out. "What swill is this?"
It was a pity. The raktajinowas quite good but there were formalities to be observed here. The Ferengi weren't the only ones who could haggle though she'd never tell them that.
"ToH!" the vendor smiled nodding, "Now you see why I ask 3 Lats a Kilo. For you, I will give you 50 kilo at 125 lats. If not you can walk away from my stall."
"Fine, I'll walk away." So, let's see what the next stall holder is willing to offer, she thought, Should be able to do better than two and a half strips per kilo.
The Vendor simply nodded and turned to address another customer. He did not need to belittle himself to a human for a sale. Leave that to house Kur'aff.
A figure called to Marie from the back of a stall, "Are you looking for quality goods or do you just want some of this tourist garbage that's on display?"
Marie looked the person up and down. Female, she thought, though it was difficult to tell in the shadows. "Same answer as before. Talk prices."
The figure called back, "Prices depend on what it is you are seeking. Do you seek provisions for a long journey, maybe weapons if you are looking for a fight, perhaps other sorts of equipment. I have many contacts that will be willing to find what you seek. Come into my stall and we can discuss your options."
"And I suppose you have dirty holograms and fake watches inside that overcoat you're wearing," Marie sneered. She kept walking. Anyone offering all those things was either a shyster or the goods were hot. She didn't, in principle, object to the occasional illicit deal but on Qo'nos it might be worth more than her hide to get caught. If the authorities didn't flay her alive, Ro' Matlh certainly would.
It took Marie nearly four hours to do the full circuit of the bazaar. In the end – after much haggling, much colourful abuse from a Ferengi who refused to take no for an answer and an incident with a Klingon fishwife that nearly ended in fisticuffs – she found herself handing over 120 strips of latinum.
Five strips off doesn't say much for my bargaining skills but hey...it's better than nothing.
It was small consolation to take away from the morning's endeavours but at least she could look forward to decent raktajino on the next trip.
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & HoD Ro' Matlh
Post Details
| Title | The Bazaar | |
| Mission | New Blood | |
| Author(s) | Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & HoD Ro' Matlh | |
| Posted | Fri May 25, 2012 @ 1:59am | |
| Location | Qo'nos | |
| Timeline | Day 2 of 7 |
Shouted voices assailed her from all sides, each vying to outdo the other. She turned and saw a man gesticulating wildly. She made out something about special but whatever came before or after was lost in the general cacophony.
She pressed her fingers to her temples then she massaged the crown of her head. She was surprised when her fingers came away slightly sticky. She prodded gingerly. Germite better have a sore forehead is all I can say, she thought.
She wandered over to a stall to inspect the wares on offer.
Vang'Ka pointed to a raktajino machine. "It will install directly into your ship's mess."
Marie wondered vaguely whether that had been a joke but decided the comment had been innocently intended. Nothing about her indicated she was from the FHew and she doubted anyone here knew who she was. So any reference to the ship's perpetual state of disarray was purely incidental.
She dismissed the offer with a wave of her hand. That tiny thing wouldn't keep the Klingons on board in raktajino. The way they went through the stuff it would have a fit and collapse in exhaustion after a few hours. Within a week it would be dead from persistent and extended overuse.
Still, the thought wasn't a bad one. Raktajino might be just the thing right now, she thought. What's the worst that could happen? As long as I make sure I don't throw up on some Klingon's boots I should be fine.
She spotted a stall selling beverages and headed over. New smells assailed her, threatening to turn her stomach afresh but she persevered.
“One mug of raktajino to take away,” she ordered.
The Vendor behind the bar took in the ragged human, and what she was wearing. She had ship clothes on, that was obvious. A foot slogger would wear through those boots in days. That meant she probably did have money, and not a lot of time to spend it.
"Straight up, Double strong, dark, Targ-white or Bender?" He asked reaching reaching for a pewter mug.
Bender sounder over-the-top, even in her present state. Make that especially in my present state, she thought. "Double strong with milk and throw in an extra sugar. Please," she added for good effect.
He raised his eyes and put the pewter back and retrieved a wooden mug, "Good choice. I can see this isn't your first cup. If you want I can give you some quality grounds. Discounts for large sale. You from a Klingon ship?"
She took a sip of the brew. "If it's anything like this muck I won't be buying any. Mind you, you did say give.... At that price I could be persuaded to take a kilo or two. Perhaps...."
The Vendor didn't miss a beat, "I'll be happy to give you the discount on orders in double figures. For only a couple of kilos, you are going to have to pay for any discounts.
"Give me some figures. Let us say fifty kilos of your finest and the same for second grade. And don't try telling me you don't deal in second grade goods. Every vendor worth their salt deals in different quality because not everyone can afford the best stuff."
Vang'Ka saw his business being taken away by another vendor. He strode over to Marie. "I can see you're not the usual tourist. I am prepared to offer you a deal on 50 kilos of top grade and 50 kilos of mid-grade, plus, I'll throw in a cafe quality raktajino machine."
The other stall keeper snorted at Vang'Ka, "If you prefer to deal with him, then you deserve the grind you get. I care about the quality of my grinds and my customs. I will not insult your crew by offering them grinds a Human could not expect to differentiate. The name of my house, NIt'a', goes on my goods, and if the goods are not of quality it reflects badly on my name, my house, and my business. I offer you 50 kilos of NIt'a' grounds but you can buy your 'export quality' from somewhere else."
Vang'Ka retorted, "Bah, our top grade comes from the house of Veet'oria plantations. Our mid-grade comes from the house of Kur'aff plantations. Either of these brands is superior to NIt'a'."
"And yet," Came the retort, "I do not need to give away trinkets to entice others to buy."
Marie was enjoying this. It took all the hard work out of bargaining if the the traders themselves did the haggling. All three were respected brands and probably wasted on the likes of the F'Hew crew but that didn't mean she couldn't indulge herself. "Talk some figures," she instructed curtly.
The NIt'a merchant folded his arms, "Drink first. If you do not think my product is worth every strip i ask for it, then I do not want to do business with you. I will not throw my product away cheap to those who do not appreciate the finer things."
Marie took a sip and spat the it out. "What swill is this?"
It was a pity. The raktajinowas quite good but there were formalities to be observed here. The Ferengi weren't the only ones who could haggle though she'd never tell them that.
"ToH!" the vendor smiled nodding, "Now you see why I ask 3 Lats a Kilo. For you, I will give you 50 kilo at 125 lats. If not you can walk away from my stall."
"Fine, I'll walk away." So, let's see what the next stall holder is willing to offer, she thought, Should be able to do better than two and a half strips per kilo.
The Vendor simply nodded and turned to address another customer. He did not need to belittle himself to a human for a sale. Leave that to house Kur'aff.
A figure called to Marie from the back of a stall, "Are you looking for quality goods or do you just want some of this tourist garbage that's on display?"
Marie looked the person up and down. Female, she thought, though it was difficult to tell in the shadows. "Same answer as before. Talk prices."
The figure called back, "Prices depend on what it is you are seeking. Do you seek provisions for a long journey, maybe weapons if you are looking for a fight, perhaps other sorts of equipment. I have many contacts that will be willing to find what you seek. Come into my stall and we can discuss your options."
"And I suppose you have dirty holograms and fake watches inside that overcoat you're wearing," Marie sneered. She kept walking. Anyone offering all those things was either a shyster or the goods were hot. She didn't, in principle, object to the occasional illicit deal but on Qo'nos it might be worth more than her hide to get caught. If the authorities didn't flay her alive, Ro' Matlh certainly would.
It took Marie nearly four hours to do the full circuit of the bazaar. In the end – after much haggling, much colourful abuse from a Ferengi who refused to take no for an answer and an incident with a Klingon fishwife that nearly ended in fisticuffs – she found herself handing over 120 strips of latinum.
Five strips off doesn't say much for my bargaining skills but hey...it's better than nothing.
It was small consolation to take away from the morning's endeavours but at least she could look forward to decent raktajino on the next trip.