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An unexpected end

Posted on Tue Mar 5th, 2013 @ 12:21pm by Lieutenant Lissan zh'Zarath & Civilian Haqtaj Matlh

Mission: Part of the Team
Location: Moonfleet/Planet Heyreddin

Mac Mohune opened his eyes and found himself in a room full of children. Reverend Glennie was well into his talk by then but the talk interested Mac enough to make him want to stay.

"Life is like the letter 'Y'," he began "In each person's life must come a point where two roads part like the arms of a 'Y' and everyone must choose for himself whether he will follow the broad and sloping path on the left or the steep and narrow path on the right. For...if you will look, you will see that the letter "Y" is not like the Mohune's, with both arms equal, but has the arm on the left broader and more sloping than the arm on the right; hence the ancient philosophers hold that this arm on the left represents the easy downward road to destruction, and the arm on the right the narrow upward path of life."

When they all heard that, they began to search their reference books for the capital 'Y'. Then Mac heard such a terrible noise around him, it was getting louder by the second. He coughed and was surprised that sand mixed with his own blood spat out of his mouth and onto his hand.

Cracky Jones pulled Mac to his feet. "Where's my artifact, Mohune."

"You get it when you pay for it," replied Mac "And not before."

Mac wiped the blood away from his lip, he knew he had lost another tooth but at least it was just a tooth and nothing else. Though he thought he might have a cracked rib or two. He feigned weakness hoping that he could find an opening to hit back at Jones.

Jones's breath was rank with the smell of rotten teeth and alcohol. He was three times the size of Mac and just as broad with muscles the size of tree trunks. He was sporting a new shiny pate which added nothing to his features at all.

"Your hair's looking good these days Cracky. I see you've got rid of the comb over at last." Said Mac ducking to get away from punch that was headed towards his jaw.

"You're dead, Mohune," Cracky growled and spat at him, "and so are your crew. Looks like I get my artifact after all and your ship as well."

Mac didn't duck fast enough this time as a sudden blow sent him flying towards one of his shipmates. Ratsy dragged him to his feet and turned him around. "C'mon Mac, man up, you've got him now, get in there. We haven't got time for all this."

Mac turned to him. "If you think you can do any better you're more than welcome to try."

Ratsy shrugged his shoulders as he felt the sudden pressure of a phaser against his skull. He pushed Mac back in to face Jones once more.

A month earlier

This is becoming bigger than Ben Hur so I propose we write it as one long piece so we make sure we keep it straight in our heads then split it up into episodes and run it as an ongoing story arc.
We’ll use the ‘To run the blockade....’ episode to set up where Mohune intervenes to allow Tambleton to escape (it’ll make sense as you read on).

Thorin, I’d like you to take the character of Tambleton’s crewmember who seduces Jones as part of the scam. Have fun with the character. Her job is to keep Jones distracted so that he can’t concentrate on what Tambleton’s telling him but not so much so that he doesn’t take it in. We want to to listen but not listen too closely.

Joan, I’d like you to play Cracky as well as Mohune seeing as how Mohune won’t be in it much once we’ve set the scene.

Fill in the your bits and play with my stuff as you like.


Mac stared at the face on the screen with distaste that soured his stomach. It wasn't the first time he had dealt with this rogue and he had doubts that it would be the last. Cracky hadn't come through with the money for the last two shipments and rumor had it that he was trading with others outside of Mohune territory.

"Remember who you're dealing with Cracky," Mac warned him darkly. "I don't take to kindly to your type of threat. Pay up – there's a good boy – and we'll do more business. If not, we'll hunt you down and make sure that you never trade this side of the quadrant again."

=^=Do your worst, Mohune,=^= Jones said mockingly. =^=You can’t touch me and you know it. Now that the new regime is in place in Pirate Haven, I’m inviolable. They owe me. I helped put them there: without me they’d still be holding secret meetings in storage cupboards.=^=

"Your choice, Cracky. When I find you, and I will, I'll personally put the hempen halter around your thick neck and cleave you to the brisket."

Mac cut off Cracky's chronic incessant laughter. Why couldn't Jones do Moonfleet a favor and just disappear A sudden thought suddenly occurred to Mac: it was time to take this son of a biscuit eater down and he knew just the person to help. Now where was Tambleton? He owed the Mohune's a few favors and it was time to call some of them in.

* * * * *

Jefferson Tambleton was sitting opposite Mohune in Mohune’s office in a back room of the ‘Y Knot’. He’d received an offer he couldn’t refuse: Come to Moonfleet. I have a proposition to put to you.

He’d listened to Mohune outline his problems with Cracky Jones. Nothing Mohune had said came as any surprise. Jones was notorious across The Triangle for not paying his debts. It was why he’d financed the coup on Pirate Haven; to give himself immunity.

Then he’d listened with growing incredulity as Mohune told him he, Tambleton, was being given the honour of taking Jones down.

Tambleton was caught and he knew it. Just as he couldn’t refuse the invitation, so he couldn’t get out of the consequences. He’d be languishing in jail right now; the Honeysweet impounded and his crew scattered. That last he could live with; they’d been cobbled together from whatever sources he could find when his need had been great. Still and all, they’d come together in some way he couldn’t fathom and Honeysweet ticked along nicely under their care.

He couldn’t just give in to Mohune though, his pride wouldn’t let him. “We’d have escaped,” he said.

Mohune laughed. “In that garbage scow you call a blockade runner? If I hadn’t distracted the ‘fleeters you’d’ve been run down like a fox before hounds. They don’t give up easy.”

And if I hadn’t listened to that scum in Pirate Haven, I wouldn’t have been there in the first place. Damn them! And double damn me for thinking I could trust them.

“Bad luck,” he tried.

Mac shrugged "Quit complaining, Tam. Just think of this as your lucky day. This kind of day doesn't come round very often. Make the most of it."

“And I suppose you just happened to turn up like an Angel of Mercy?”

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood," replied Mac "If you're so unhappy about it, I can arrange to have you taken back.... If that's what you really want, Tam?"

Tambleton shook his head. He knew Mohune did nothing out of altruism. Getting him to admit just what motive he had for intervening would be like getting a Vulcan to admit to having emotions. He let that comment slide.

“OK. OK. What do you want me to do?”

"That's better Tam, now you're beginning to see sense." Mac smiled. "Here drink this." Mac offered Tam a glass of Aldebran whiskey from the bottom drawer of his desk but didn't pour himself one. Mac wanted a clear head.

It was only a single shot. Tambleton swallowed it in one gulp. Blended, but not bad, he thought. Undoubtedly Mohune has a single malt stashed away somewhere. Memo to self: get him to haul out the good stuff when this is all over. Assuming I’m still alive, that is, he added caustically.

"I think its time to teach Cracky Jones a lesson, one he so richly deserves and most likely won't forget. I'm hoping that he won't live long enough to tell the tale. We'd be doing the territory a huge favor getting rid of scum like Jones."

One look at Tam told the Director of Moonfleet that he was interested. A small smirk appeared at the corners of Mac's mouth. This time Cracky Jones would be gone for good. The Mohune's reputation was at stake after all.

“How?” Tambleton asked.

"Cracky is after rare and valuable Romulan artifacts," Mac told him. "After a few discreet enquiries... I managed to find something appealing. I'd like you to arrange a meeting with Jones. We can't get near him but I know you can. Draw him out into the open, Tam. Find a weak spot. He likes the ladies and you have a pretty little crewmember would fit the bill nicely.”

“I wondered how long it took for her to come into it. Yeah, this suits her down to the ground. Mind you, it’ll take some convincing to get her to go after Jones. She can be...particular...about who she seduces. What sort of sweetener do you have in mind?”

"Oh, she gave me a list some time ago; don't worry about that," Mac replied. "Some items are, let's say, a little bit odd and others expensive. Then their are the ones she would need a permit for and some are just downright... out of the question." Mac hesitated on saying anything else that was on that list. "She'll do alright out of it. So...are you up for it Tam?"

“Fair enough. If it means getting back at those scum in Pirate Haven then I’m in,” Tambleton said. He doubted they’d be affected but without Jones’ backing they might find their hold on power becoming tenuous. It wasn’t much but it gave him something to cling to; something that meant he wasn’t acting solely at Mohune’s bidding. “So, let me get this straight: you want to sell it to Jones. Or rather, you want him to pay for it but he’ll never actually take possession of it.”

"That's about right Tam. Don't kill him unless you have to. I want payment first...then kill him. Unless I get there first." Mac poured Tam another drink and this time one for himself. “One final thing, Phikic Suze will be joining you.”

Tambleton nearly choked on his drink. He felt it burn all the way down then all the way back up again. It was no smoother going down a second time. “Suze!” he spluttered. “She’s crazy. Last time I had anything to do with her she nearly got us all killed because she wasn’t carrying a phaser. Said something about not trusting the things.”

“Think of her as ‘field liaison’,” Mac said in a tone that brooked no refusal. “I trust you, Tam but I like to have eyes and ears everywhere. You know how it is.”

Tambleton knew alright. Suze was Mohune’s insurance police. She was there to ensure he wasn’t double-crossed. She too it would be who pointed the finger squarely at Tambleton should the authorities get involved. Talk about leaving the best news ‘til last. he thought.

He rose. I’m outta here before it gets any worse.

"Oh, and one more thing," Mac added as Tambleton walked towards the door. "Don't talk about his hair loss. It'll only make him want to kill you. He's never really forgiven me for that." A small laugh escaped Mac as he remembered what had happened that time.

That laugh echoed round Tambleton's skull as he closed the door behind him.

The Setup

Cracky Jones was not a difficult man to find but he was hard to talk too. He employed a squad of moronic heavies to ‘discourage’ people who wanted an audience. More than once, Tambleton had learnt just exactly what form that discouragement took.

Yet here he was, trying to reason with someone for whom reason could have been a four letter word.

“Look,” he said, “All I want is a few moments of Cracky’s time.”

“That’s Mister Jones to you.”

“Alright, alright. A few moments of Mister Jones’ time.” He invested the title with as much sarcasm as he could. He was wasting his time. The thug could have been standing two levels up and it still would have gone over his head. “I have a business proposition to put to him,” he tried.

One of the few active synapses in the thug’s head must have managed to click into place. “Mister Jones is a legitimate businessman.”

Oh yeah? Tambleton thought. I’ve met more legitimate Ferengi. “That is why I want to put this proposition to him. He’s interested in antiquities I hear and I have some that will appeal to him.”

Antiquities obviously had three too many syllables for him but it sounded impressive.

Karin stepped forward. Orion women have a reputation, and it was one that she traded heavily on. She ran her hand up the man's arm, "Do you do all the negotiation of contracts?"

"Huh?" the thug answered. Karin tried again.

"Do you get to pick what things are given to Mister Jones as a gift?"

"Nothing goes past, except what I says," the thug responded.

"And I bet you take a cut," Karin purred. "Just a bit off the top. Your boss knows all about it and provided it is not too much he lets it slide, right."

She leant in to whisper in his ear, "If I am the present, how much of me do you get? I hope it is a generous amount. I don't like to skimp."

There was a slight movement to one side. It could only be slight; his hulking frame left little room for more than that in the narrow corridor. Tambleton squeezed past.

Karin slid around the man pressing against him more than she needed to. When they moved past she flashed Tambleton a grin.

"I hope Jones is more challenging than that."

Cracky Jones's office was at the end of a corridor. Double doors faced them as they approached. The old oak doors looked ancient and could have been reproductions of the originals off an antediluvian Earth seafaring ship. On closer inspection he thought otherwise, they were the real thing. Cracky was happy to spend Mac's money then.

The doors opened inwards to reveal a room that was eclectic to say the very least. Shelves supported a few books and artefacts with journals tucked in between. Some antiquated weapons were displayed haphazardly on a wall while others were tossed like rags into the corner of the room.

Tambleton's and Karin's eyes were pulled to the grotesque sight of shrunken heads on the opposite wall arranged almost like trophies and meant to frighten people. Tam somehow thought they looked like the real thing.

A huge desk dominated the middle of the room but apart from an aged worn map and a computer it looked surprisingly tidy.

Cracky Jones looked up from surveying the map, a smile appeared on his face revealing rotten teeth.

“Well, well, well. Jefferson Tambleton!” He pulled out a bottle from his desk drawer and three crystal glasses. “As I live and breathe, what brings a wastrel like you to my humble office?”

As Tambleton moved to the proffered chair, Karin draped herself across the arm and back of a chair, careful to hint but not quite display what she was selling. No freebies here.

The glasses chinked together as Jones passed the blue coloured liquid to them. "Drink this." he offered "Its better than the gut rot they serve you elsewhere. You'll never taste any finer."

Aldebran whiskey, Tambleton thought, and it's a single malt. Maybe I'm on the wrong side here. Mohune doesn't run to single malt. He took another sip. Not very well aged though and Mohune's was a good blend. No, never change horses mid-stream. Not until someone comes up with a decently aged drop anyway.

“I have a proposition to put to you, Cracky,” Tambleton said.

Jones let loose a laugh that reverberated around the room. "I have had many propositions, Tambleton. You think that yours is any different from anyone else's? " he roared. Jones relaxed back in his chair, his whole bulk filled the sizable piece of furniture to its limit and his eyes never left Tam's for a second.

“There is an opportunity to acquire a nice little Romulan artefact. Not your usual stuff that any penny-ante smuggler is trying to push these days but something of real value. It’s thousands of years old.” He handed Jones a padd. “This is it.”

Cracky snatched the padd off Tam and gave it a token glance. "Not interested in the picture. Bring me the real thing and then we'll talk, otherwise I'll give you a ten second start to get the hell off Pirate Haven before I come after you."

“Well I can’t hardly show it to you ‘in the flesh’, can I?"

Jones ignored him. His gaze turned towards the girl as if seeing her for the first time. "But you can stay," he told her.

Karin laughed happily, "Sorry. I now have the image of Mister Jones here 'In the flesh'. That would be something to see."

“It’s in Romulan space,” Tambleton continued. He noted that Jones' gaze had shifted back and was locked fixedly in his direction following that remark. His breathing had taken on a ragged note. “I have to buy it first. And that’s where the problem comes in. There are substantial incentives to be paid.”

"Incentives?"Jones asked, his curiosity peaked.

Incentives is the word my associates use.”

"And who might they be Tambleton? Some of your old cronies in Starfleet or those sad little losers in Moonfleet. Who ever they are will be no surprise to me. Though I do wonder what's your involvement in all this. This isn't your usual thing, Tambleton."

“They choose to remain anonymous. You will understand that times are difficult right now in the Star Empire. They have need of money to establish their power base so they are selling off some items for which they no longer have a use. It’s all quite legitimate...well, it is from our end anyway. The Provisional Government is taking a different view and the worthies in the Federation have sided with the Provisional Government. So we will have expenses getting in and getting out. Then there's Bills of Sale to be drawn up to keep things above board. Rest assured, we can easily recoup them on sale of the item but they have to be met up front.”

Jones rubbed his chin with his right hand, thinking. He wasn't convinced of Tam's story but greed was getting the better of Jones these days and it seemed too good a deal to miss. He shook his head at Tam. No, he wasn't convinced. He'd learnt never to ignore the warning signs, even if it was a tempting offer. "Too good an offer Tambleton. There must be a catch."

Karin stood slowly and walked over to Jones' desk and sat on it instead, one leg up, delicate foot on the top. Lifting the edge of her dress high she extracted a small figurine from a garter and handed it, still warm, to Jones.

Tambleton tossed Karin an infuriated look.

Jones's face lit up when he took the statuette in his fat podgy hands. He couldn't resist smelling it; it was profoundly irresistible and alluring.

"You're full of surprises aren't you? Why didn't you show me this earlier?" he asked.

“It is of inferior quality,” Tambleton explained. “I instructed my colleague not to bring it.” Again the infuriated look. “She acted without my authority. I was concerned that you would think this was all we were good for. I assure you that that is not so.”

Jones stroked the figurine almost lovingly and with care. "I need to know, Tambleton, that you can deliver quality goods. I want assurance that you can do the the job and not let me down."

“My associates also were not convinced that I could deliver on my promises. They doubted I could bring in the sort of payoff I quoted. I brought this back on my last trip. It will go on sale at the next market.”

Jones didn't say anything for a few minutes. He gazed at the object he held in his hand, turning it this way and that. He looked at it from different angles as the light caught it. It would go well with his collection.

"I could take it off your hands if you are asking the right price."

“Do you have a handy 500 bars of gold-pressed latinum?”

"I'll assume that is a joke, Tambleton and not a very good one. You won't get more than 200. By the time the fence takes his commission off you'll be lucky to get 175. I'll be doing you a favour by buying it off you for 200.

“Take another sniff, Cracky. That’s the real deal.

Karin rolled in a fluid movement off the desk and pointed to a shelf, "There."

She moved over to the shelf, "It should sit here, right next to...."

She picked up a horga'hn and looked over it at Jones, saying in mock shock, "Mr Jones!"

Then she glanced at Tambleton, "Come on, Tam. A man who collects these won't pay more than 380."

“That means I lose my profit margin,” Tambleton said. “Though I notice it’s enough to mean you still get paid.”

Karin spun with a shrug and sauntered back to drape over the desk in front of Jones. "If Master Jones buys, I think we might be able to set up a phone call," she said to Tambleton. "Just so Master Jones here can know who he's handling. After all, our contact is very particular about who she deals with but she is more open to dealing with someone who has already made a purchase. She has certain," she ran an appreciative eye over Jones, "tastes. As a woman, I am sure Mister Jones can satisfy her."

She opened her leg so she straddled the desk; one leg on the floor nearest Tambleton, the other on Jones' calf.

"Of course we may need to make sure your hair is nice and properly fashioned. Afterwards, we can do something with your head as well."

Like cut it off! Tambleton thought.

Cracky Jones's lips formed into a thin tight smile at the mere mention of his lack of hair. It was a sore point and one that Mohune would pay for dearly one day. Had it been Tambleton that had said it Jones would have had no problem keelhauling him underneath the hull of his own ship The Vile Marauder.

Ah, but Jones loved women and Orion women were unique and unlike any other he had ever come across. Absentmindedly, he ran a stubby finger along the length of her leg. Her skin felt smooth and silky under his touch. It was true what they said about Orion women, that they are the most alluring creatures in the known universe. Maybe he could have both, the artefact and the girl. It was certainly something to think about.

"Why my involvement?" asked Jones.

“And where is a wastrel like me going to come up with that sort of latinum? I need a backer. There are many I could choose from but you’re ideally placed. Your associates within the regime here give you a certain legitimacy which I do not, unfortunately, have. You also have a well-established veneer of respectability these days.”

"Respect?" laughed Cracky "You think that I'm respectable? I didn't get where I am today by being respectable."

“Yeah, well you can fool some of the people some of the time but I know you better than that. Thankfully, for my purposes, you should be able to fool a few officious Federation bureaucrats.”

Jones looked deeply at Tam, trying to read him. He was still not wholly convinced that the man sitting across from him was telling the truth. His gut instinct was warning Jones not to get involved and to space Tam with out any further thought about it. He'd keep the girl of course; she would come in very useful and when he had tired of her....

Jones placed the figurine back in Karin's garter. "Thanks, but no thanks," he said regretfully and then smiled. "But I am willing to give you an offer for the girl."

“As financier, you get ten percent of the take in gold-pressed latinum.”

Jones let out a sigh. Just as he thought; he had reached an end to all this ducking and diving. Tam had thrown in the joker, the lure, the ace up his sleeve. It was an interesting offer but not nearly enough for what he had in mind. His greed, like his size, was growing and becoming insatiable.

Karin swung her leg over the desk and now stood fully between Jones parted knees, his eyeline on Tambleton interrupted by her ample bosom.

“Ten percent,” Karin repeated silkily, “This artefact would fetch 500 bars of latinum on the black market but we can do better than that." She leaned forward to give him a good view and whispered in his ear, "If we trade it at the Zanzibar Marketplace we can make anything up to 1,500 bars.”

"Twenty five percent and I let you both walk out of here unharmed and alive," he said, almost drooling over Karin. He let his hand linger on her waist for a while. It was all he could do to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

“Fifteen percent,” Tambleton countered. “The commission at the Marketplace is higher than we’d likely pay to move it through the usual channels. Yeah,” he acknowledged, “it’s more expense which means more up-front costs but you get what you pay for. Consider this.... The marketplace guarantees authenticity; that translates to higher prices. It provides one locale where all interested buyers can view the item. That means we don’t have to ship it all round the Alpha Quadrant which means greater security for us.”

"Twenty percent and I get to keep the girl." said Cracky, kissing Karin's hand again and looking deeply into her eyes. "My you are a beauty."

Karin patted his cheek, "My dear Mr Jones, You want to cut my share and keep me? I don't think so. Fifteen percent and you'll still be able to afford me for weekends. Ten percent and I'll be able to afford you."

"Why sell it in the first place Tambleton? Why not keep it and admire it for what it is... a thing of beauty."

“It does not fall into a category which I would call beauty” Tambleton replied. “I grant you it is an exquisite piece but it’s not to my tastes. I prefer Anyway, even if it were to my taste, I can hardly afford it. I already have a thing of beauty I can barely afford.”

While the discussion was going Karin breathed in Jones ear, letting the strong Orion pheromones play havoc on his judgement.

A small vein in the middle of Jone's forehead began to pulse and beads of sweat ran down his temples. He was in turmoil because of the effect the Orion woman was having on him.

Jones guard was beginning to drop as he became more infatuated with Karin. His instinct had been dulled into submission and if he wasn't careful it would disappear completely. He was of two minds now; should he or shouldn't he? He leant over and whispered something in Karin's ear.

"I can take you away from all of this. Name any place you want to go and I'll take you there."

"I want you to get to the point. Seal the deal. All I hear is talk and posing. When do I start to see the money, or are you all bluster and no... blow."

“Also, Cracky,” Tambleton explained, “if this deal goes down, you'll be able to use the proceeds to purchase items for your own collection. There’s more like this where this came from. Nor is this the best piece. It’s good – it needs to be to attract the sort of bids we’re looking for – but it’s not the best. Also, my share will allow me to keep the contacts I need in my pocket to go in and out of Romulan space with immunity. Without that, I put myself at serious risk with each venture. So selling one item is in everyone’s long term interests.”

Jones kissed Karin's silky smooth shoulder and then turned his attention back to Tam "So tell me, how you propose we should do this?"

“I propose we take a different route to our usual one. I got into a spot of bother last time and have no wish to repeat the experience. I suggest we hook around Deep Space 12 then go across the Neutral Zone from there. Deep Space 12 is under-resourced and over-stretched. It’s got a new captain who only got the job because no-one else was available. You might have heard of him: Lieutenant Commander Nelson Harrison.”

"Hah. So he took over DS12 did he." Jones wondered what had happened to him. He was a real pain in the neck, always poking his nose in where he shouldn't and running in that tiny little ship of his.

“That’s him. All Starfleet have given him is one Defiant to patrol the whole sector. Other than that, he has to make do with science vessels! Getting past him will be a piece of cake and I’m sure your associates will enjoy seeing him humiliated.”

"But," Karin said, standing suddenly and moving back around to Tambleton, "If you aren't interested in anything we are offering...."

"You know my offer." said Jones "Accept that and we'll call it a deal. What's it to be Tambleton?"

“And you know mine, Cracky. Decide quickly. My associates are concerned that the market will soon be flooded with shoddy goods. If that happens, the price of quality merchandise will also suffer. They want to get in while the getting is still good.”

Jones leaned across to them. "Tell you what, out of the goodness of my heart, I'll meet the cost of the bribes." He then pointed a stubby finger at Tam, "while you pay for the artefact."

“And you buy Karin's little trinket,” Tambleton responded. "Payment upfront." He looked towards her. “Even so, I don’t like it. I can put the money towards buying the artefact but I’d have to dip into funds allocated for ship repairs to fully cover the cost. We took a beating from that Starfleet ship. Without the repairs we’ll be in a dodgy position if we get rumbled again.”

Karin pouted, "You told me this one was rich! He doesn't have it. I am not going to be with some tight-fisted try-hard."

She turned and purred at Tambleton, "Find me someone who likes to take risks."

....and I’ll show you someone who knows how to live., Tambleton finished for her. “It seems hair is not the only thing Mister Jones has lost since he gained respectability. You’re right, we’re wasting our time here. We should have gone see Mohune first, like you said.” He rose and pushed his chair back. “At least he knows a good deal when he sees one,” he said to Karin as he walked towards the door.

"And he does that... thing," Karin said hungrily. Jealousy is a wonderful tool, provided Tambleton could keep his own feelings muted.

Cracky Jones watched them as they approached the door. He thought them desperate enough to turn. When they didn't, he heaved himself up and leaned on the table and fought against his instinct. If Tambleton was lying then Tambleton was a dead man.

"Fine, fine, fine. Come back in and lets work it out. I'll buy your pretty little statuette for 250 and nothing more. You'll get your bribe cash soon. Here take this," Jones passed over a promissory note.

Karin sighed breathily, her chest moving in a most distracting manner, "There is NOTHING quite like watching large money changing hands. It makes my palms quite moist."

Tambleton handed a chip to Jones. “My account details are here.” He watched while Jones transferred the credit for the latinum then took the chip back again.

He folded the note carefully and put it in his pocket. “Thank you, Cracky. I’ll expect your money in the account within the next few days. After all,” he added pleasantly, “I can hardly give this to a self-respecting Romulan now, can I?” He patted the pocket. “She needs the real stuff.”

He offered Karin his arm but she just looked snootily at him.
"I think YOU've just been out bid."

She winked back at Jones, "See YOU with the goods when we get back."

Then together Tam and she walked out


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