Once Upon a Time
Posted on 18 Feb 2024 @ 3:43pm by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: O.C - Ara and Krecca’s Quarters
Timeline: MD 4 - Day 8
1148 words - 2.3 OF Standard Post Measure
Brek was sitting on a white flowery couch, amid a pile of fluffy cushions. There was such a thing as too much comfort, and he was experiencing it right now. Everything should be done in moderation - except for the acquisition of latinum of course - otherwise all you get is a pain in the neck. Kreca had taken place by his side and she had been telling him how a wondrous treasure map was now in her possession.
He had expected a tale of fantastic business acumen. Wealth obtained through blatant opportunism, insolence and swiftness. Instead he got a story about a persistent lack of luck and its clingy companion: misery. At least that had been the case until Kreca’s father got his jinxed hands onto Razal’s treasure map. He didn’t buy it, though.
“Don’t pretend you’re surprised,” Kreca said. “I’m sure it happens more often than we think.”
“Of course, it does. But I would love to see your statistics on that, all the same,” Brek said, just to be annoying.
“Whatever. My dad was playing Tongo. His opponents, having had a successful day, had celebrated too much and were completely drunk. He did what any decent Ferengi would have done: he took advantage of the situation. In the end, one of the players, convinced that he could win, put the map on the table. My father won it. Fair and square. He also made a fortune thanks to this map.”
“It sounds like a ‘wonderful’ fairy tale. Once upon a time... blah blah blah.” Brek crossed his arms on his chest. “How about the map’s authenticity? Is it well documented?”
“Can anything be legit in the Ferengi world?” She shrugged, indicating that his question was stupid. “The map has been scanned. We know that it’s 700 years old. Something that ancient, it makes it as genuine as any other artefact. This map is also the only one to show six treasure locations, just like in Razal’s biography. Other versions of this map are on the greedy side, showing seven or eight treasures.”
“Legends are born every minute,” Brek said with a sigh. “Ara presented your father as a successful trader, but he is clearly just a gambler.”
“I don’t see that it matters.”
“Luck versus hard work, that's the difference.”
“Said the Ferengi who quit Starfleet for an easy life. You may not be aware of it, but Cmdr Rubens knows everything about your downfall.”
“What downfall?” Brek sat up. Kreca was getting on his nerves now. “There was no downfall at all. I just made a choice. Is it what you were doing at Moon’s soirée when you talked to the CDO? Dissecting my past like I was a mere insect? I had not realised gossiping was one of your hobbies.”
“It isn't. Your name just surfaced while you were being all sweet and nice to Moon and Ms Hardt..”
“By all that is precious... We were talking about the store Moon opened. There was nothing trivial about what we said. It was serious business all through.”
“We are also in business Brek. But you have never been pleasant with me. Just saying.”
“I’m trying to be nice, but you and Ara are making it impossible,” he said, sounding dishonest even to his own ears. “Anyway, you said your father made good latinum thanks to this map. How so?”
She looked at him, defiant. “Why should I answer your question if you won’t answer mine? It’s always like that with you, men. You make demands, and we are supposed to obey. We are no longer living at the time of Razal’s map, in case you haven’t noticed, Brek. The year is 2398: Modern Times. Get used to it.”
Modern bullshit, more like, Brek thought on the spur of the moment. Yet the only thing that escaped his lips was an intense sigh. “Fine! What the heck do you want to know?”
“What is the real reason why you left Starfleet? Rumours paint you as a dodgy information broker. I don’t buy it. You always take your responsibilities seriously. Why would someone like you sell sensitive information to the wrong party? You are too good for that.”
“It’s called taking too many liberties, Kreca,” Brek told her. “And it shows how little you know me. See, I reached a point where I couldn’t breathe. Can you grasp that? Those who liked me treated me like some kind of mascot. The little Ferengi who always has a funny word to say and can offer unusual solutions to every problem. As for those who despised me... Nothing I did was ever good enough. Stuck as I was between those two extremes, I wanted out.”
“So you did betray Starfleet?” Kreca winced, like there was a bad smell in the room.
“How you jump to conclusions... Starfleet betrayed me first with ambiguities and dark intrigues. Picture this: I merely stabbed the Fleet back, meekly, with a butter knife. It took longer than I expected, but they caught me, obviously.” After a slight pause he added. “There was no big fuss around it, you know. The damage I left behind me was minimal, and I was allowed to quit my position discreetly.”
“So you sold information...”
“I never denied it.”
“It’s a pity. I would have loved to meet you when you wore a Starfleet uniform. There is prestige in that”
Brek sighed again. Why was it that women loved shiny buttons and insignias so much? “The past is a country we shouldn’t visit too often. Now, you owe me one answer: Your father. The map. His wealth. How so?”
Kreca grabbed a cushion, shaped like a ridiculous flower. Yet, the weird thing was, it looked cute on her. “He did what any inventive Ferengi would have done, you included: he sold the coordinates of those treasure locations to other traders. The lure often proved irresistible. They abandoned their affairs and returned to Ferenginar to find those mythical piles of latinum.”
“Hmm... That’s not what I’d call immensely brilliant,” Brek added, not wanting to sound too impressed. “But it is clever. I’m sure even Ara will agree. Did your father only sell this fantasy to Ferengis?”
“What do you think? Cupidity knows no bounds. He sold those coordinates to every mother’s son, and a few daughters too.”
Brek grinned. “Now that’s what I call a good yarn. I love a tale with a positive ending. It warms the heart.”
“And I love it when my audience is happy,” Kreca said as she got up. “So... happy as you are now, surely you’ll have no objection helping me with my bags? I’ve got four. Two each, right?”
“Lucky me...”
