Business Never Stops

Posted on Tue 23rd May, 2023 @ 6:45pm by Criswell Sandbags & Trav & Morva & Captain Torrog

1,501 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Neither Yours Nor Mine
Location: Tivoli Gardens, Ferengi Barge
Timeline: MD 5, 1120

"That was quite a meal!" Criswell said, sitting back and patting his belly. "That ramda larvae was to die for!" Criswell and Torrog had spent most of an hour devouring their food and making light conversation, sitting in a nice spot in a restaurant that was carried lazily downriver by a rustic but charming old barge. But both of them knew, at taking their final bites, that business was coming next.

The captain wiped his mouth and took a long drink of Slug-o-Cola, giving himself a tiny bit more time to decide the best place to start. Finally, he tossed his napkin in his plate and pushed it back, folding his arms across the table. "You're pretty tight with this casino owner ... Qaraq? What's he have you doing, mostly? Oh, I'm not asking for business secrets. Just in general, what kind of work do you do for him?"

Criswell sat up straight and folded his hands in his lap. "I'm his executive assistant," he said. "I do all kinds of work for him."

Torrog nodded, "Covers a broad range. I don't want to interfere with your work with him, but there could be opportunities, now and then, for a fellow who wants to get a little ahead, to do something that benefits all three of us. Finding deals ... it's what I do. I'm not interested in things that will wind up costing me money in the long run, and I investigate pretty thoroughly before I buy into an idea." He drummed his thumb on the table a moment.

"Which end of a deal interests you more? Finding a product or finding a buyer?"

Criswell smiled. "I prefer to know where a product is found before I find a buyer," he said. "But I always need to know the buyer before I sell the product. Being a hoo-mon raised on Ferenginar, I was never allowed a proper Ferengi education. But I imagine there's a Rule of Acquisition about involving third parties in a deal."

He sat forward. "Come on, Torrog. We've kept our deals mostly clean so far. What's different about this one that you need to know specifics of my work with Mr. Qaraq?"

Torrog said, "Not specifics, no, as I said. I need to know how you prefer to operate. What's special? Not much, actually," he shrugged. "I like to ensure a successful transaction. I'd rather pass on a little profit than make a mess which loses my investment."

The captain grinned a toothy smile. "Not a popular Ferengi attitude, I know, but I have my own rule of acquisition, Torrog's Corollary. It states that no profit at all is better than losing principal and profit together."

Criswell grinned and cocked his head. "Principal," he repeated. "As in trust? That can be dangerous for a Ferengi. Of course, me being hoo-mon, I have often found people more trustworthy toward me than a Ferengi. It often works in my favor."

"No, not trust. I don't ever trust completely, and I imagine you don't either," Torrog shook his head. "Principal as in my investment money. I've worked hard to accumulate as much gold-pressed latinum as I can. I AM a Ferengi, when all is said and done. I'm a more-careful-than-average Ferengi. Maybe I have human blood mixed in somewhere," he laughed, making a joke of it, but there were those family rumors ....

"Maybe we can use that trust people feel for you, at some point. I'd be surprised if Qaraq didn't see the advantage to that and use it, as well." The captain stopped and thought of that a moment, planning to come back to it on his own time and think about it more. He wasn't as quick as a human, but he made up for it by thinking harder and being more cautious.

"But back to my idea for our next deal. It's for you, not your boss, but if you decide you want to let him in, that's up to you. I-" he stopped as Morva approached their table.

Morva wore a double-breasted, gray chef's tunic and trousers, but not the hat that a chef from Earth might wear. She gave the two males a sharp-eyed look. They were clearly working on a deal; a Ferengi could always tell. On the other hand, Ferengi were always working on deals, so it was perhaps an easy supposition.

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she glanced at the hoo-mon's plate and saw that he had fully eaten his meal. Even Durant, who had at one time been her replicator repairman and had served on a Ferengi ship, hadn't eaten many of her dishes.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Morva said as she arrived at their table. "Trav mentioned you were here, Torrog; it's good to see you. Will you introduce me to your guest?"

The captain gave her a typically Ferengi grin, raising his ears slightly up as a natural consequence. "Of course, it's why I brought him to the best restaurant on the starbase!" he declared, turning to Sandbags.

"Morva, it is my honor to introduce you to my colleague, who looks quite human, but is as Ferengi as you or I. This is Criswell Sandbags, a business associate of uncommon astuteness.

"Criswell, meet Morva, the best Ferengi chef who ever made a spore pie or Kytherian soft-shelled crab. If you want a Ferengi delicacy, get yourself invited to one of Morva's party nights." He nodded his head in anticipation. "That's where you'll find a better than home-cooked meal."

Criswell smiled. "A pleasure! Torrog has said wonderful things about your restaurant, and I must say I'm very impressed so far with the service and atmosphere. I grew up on Ferenginar, helping my father run his own restaurant, so I know good Ferengi food when I taste it! I'm looking forward to yours. What do you suggest I order?"

"Oh, now you've done it!" the captain laughed. "Prepare to be stunned and amazed!"

"Flattery might get you somewhere," Morva said with a dry nod to Torrog. She returned her attention to his guest. "It's rare to meet a hoo-mon who appreciates the finer aspects of Ferengi cuisine, Mr. Sandbags. My husband is particularly fond of my jellied gree-worm and flaked blood flea. If either of those sound appealing, or if there's some other dish you'd like to sample from the menu, I'd be honored to make you and Captain Torrog a dessert plate, since I missed your dinner order." She gave him a curious look. "What is the name of your father's restaurant?"

"Hwak's Diner," Criswell said with undeniable pride. "It's been in the family for four generations, and not once has it ended a year without making considerable profit! My adopted father, Hwak, is the current owner. It is located very close to Government House, so it attracts a lot of very rich clientele." Criswell's wide eyes darted back and forth, a mannerism he had developed at a young age that itself made him look either nervous, weak, or the kind of mad that doesn't mean "angry."

After a moment of this, Criswell added, "The aroma here is definitely more suited for the culture of a Federation starbase, but the atmosphere is exactly the same as my father's place. It feels like home." He looked down at the dessert tab on the menu PADD. "Oooh! I haven't had juranthula eggs in forever! Do they come fertilized or unfertilized? And what kinds of syrup do you use?"

"Hwak's?" Morva beamed. "I've been there a time or two! Your father runs a top-tier establishment and has clearly taught you an appreciation of quality. Now, as for my juranthula eggs--I offer fertilized and unfertilized, but I prefer them fertilized, as they have a spicier flavor. You have a choice of syrup of squill, agave nectar, or Ktarian merlot syrup."

Criswell sat up straight with a big grin. "I assume this is a test. My father has never asked a patron that question, because all true Ferengi chefs know fertilized juranthula eggs are an abomination without the finest Ktarian merlot!"

"With which I quite agree," Morva said, "but most hoo-mon palates...." She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Present company excepted, of course. But there are some hoo-mons who ask for--" A look of horror crossed her face, "ketchup sauce on everything." She waved the words away as if they tasted foul. "Very well, then--fertilized juranthula eggs in a Ktarian merlot reduction for you." She turned to Captain Torrog. "And what might you like?"

"I'll give that a try, as well," the captain agreed, smiling his wide toothy smile. "I always take the advice of those who know food, and I've never been disappointed here."

Criswell grinned as Morva left to get their orders. It had been so long since he'd had traditional Ferengi food prepared with such expertise. He definitely was going to be a regular. Looking back at Torrog, Criswell said, "So tell me about this new deal..."

 

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