Something Qaraq This Way Comes

Posted on Sun 15th May, 2022 @ 8:29pm by Qaraq & Criswell Sandbags
Edited on on Fri 20th May, 2022 @ 6:49am

1,229 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: The Hunted
Location: Casino
Timeline: MD: -1, 1000 hours

ON

Criswell Sandbags was practically invisible to everyone on Starbase 109. He'd been living in Brown sector for several months with three Tellarite roommates, working as a busboy for the buffet in the station's casino. He kept to himself and did his job efficiently, and no one paid him any mind. This was what got him the second-highest position in Starbase 109's biggest gambling establishment.

It went like this...

The casino had just been bought by an eccentric Broot. He was Qaraq, the insanely rich owner of a vast empire located in Delavi, a remote system in the Iconn Expanse. There was a war going on in Iconn. The Federation had looked into the matter after first contact had been made with the Hesians, one of the expanse's many races whose discovery of warp drive had been a result of the war. The Hesiod system was in a centralized location in the expanse, so the war had hit them hard. There had been some negotiations for aid from the Federation, but it never came to be. The Hesians refused to become members, and Starfleet couldn't afford another war. Two months later, the Hesian home world was invaded and fell to the Alraki Pact, a dangerous faction comprised of several governments within the expanse.

Qaraq literally owned the Delavi system, the place his family had called home for several generations. The Pact had been around for almost a year and had long had their eye on Delavi, but had never pursued it. This was due to the fact that Qaraq's influence spread far and wide, and Delavi had more protection than the Pact could afford to fight. Not only that, but the Delavi system was not in a very strategic place. As big as they were, the Pact didn't have the resources to take on Qaraq. This left them sitting on a stalemate for quite some time. Meanwhile, Delavi had become a safe haven for refugees from the various invaded worlds.

For forty years, Qaraq was married to a woman Broot named Ertha. The two of them spent their entire marriage tending a bar on Delavi-1 and had stayed madly in love for all their days. They had ten children total, now all grown, most with children of their own. When Ertha passed away, Qaraq went into a deep depression, and his children had taken over running the empire. During this time, Qaraq decided to broaden his horizons. Delavi was too crowded for him, and he felt lost tending the bar. Qaraq had decided he would find a way for the Delavi system to join the Federation. The move would force the Federation into the war with the Alraki Pact, and they'd have no choice but to act.

As hugely wealthy as Qaraq was, his influence did not reach into Federation space the way it had to the Romulans, Cardassians, and Klingons. Enlisting their help was out of the question. All of those governments would simply invade the expanse after destroying the pact. No, the Federation was the only place to turn. Qaraq was not a politician or a soldier. He didn't have the knees for it. He was a businessman. So if he couldn't appeal to the Federation's sympathy, he'd try their wallets instead. To get his foot in the door he'd need a business somewhere in the Federation. Somewhere permanent. A Starfleet station seemed like the best idea.

Flash forward...

Qaraq was the new proprietor of the casino on Starbase 109, in the station's Brown Sector. Qaraq's daughter had arrived a week before Qaraq to oversee the transition. The casino was a little bigger than his home establishment on Delavi, twice the size when you considered the second floor. On the lower floor sat the main games. Roulette, dabo, craps, various card games, and two rows of slot machines all comprised the lower level. The second floor was a full bar and restaurant, and was also home to a reasonably sized holosuite.

The games had all been turned off for over a month, however Qaraq had insisted the bar upstairs stay open for business. So as they sat and ate bar food and discussed further business matters, Qaraq immediately took note of Criswell after the busboy took a little too long wiping down the nearest table.

"You there! Busboy!" Qaraq had bellowed. The giant's blue skin and horn-ridden face made Criswell cower more than the casino's other intimidating patrons did. "You seem to have the ears of a Ferengi, but with much smaller lobes." The Broot's voice sounded like a small earthquake.

"Oh, um," Criswell stammered. "I was raised on Ferenginar. I am just a lowly hoo-mon. Please! Enjoy your..."

Qaraq interrupted with a burst of deep rolling laughter. "You must be joking! No one is lowly in this life, human! I can see you put your eyes and ears to good use! Indeed, it is a wonder you lack Ferengi lobes!"

Criswell smiled and bowed his head. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course," Qaraq said with a curt nod. "My name is Qaraq. What is yours?"

"Criswell Sandbags," Criswell replied.

"You work for me now, Mr. Sandbags." Qaraq said with a broad smile.

Criswell recoiled slightly, unsure as to what the giant blue man was saying. "I do?"

Qaraq grinned. "As of today I am the new owner of this establishment. I have far more use for you than just cleaning tables. With your job you must overhear a lot. Is this true?" Before Criswell could shake his head and deny it, Qaraq added, "If it is, I'll make it very profitable for you."

Criswell may have been a hoo-mon by birth, but he was adopted and raised by Ferengi. Upon hearing the word "profitable," his eyes went wide. "Actually, I do hear a lot of gossip in this job. Most people don't really watch what they're saying in front of a busboy. In fact, most people don't notice me at all!"

Qaraq sat forward. "That's exactly what I need!" he said. "Someone skilled in the art of invisibility."

"A ninja?" Criswell said. "I'm afraid I'm not..."

"Ninja?" Qaraq furrowed his horn-ridden brow. "Is that the word for it?"

Criswell's eyes lit up. "Well, there's this place on Earth called Japan where..."

Qaraq slapped the table, making Criswell jump. "Very well! You will be my executive ninja," Qaraq said with a rumble.

Criswell raised an eyebrow. "Do you really mean that?"

"Do I look like a liar?" Qaraq asked. "Mr. Sandbags, I see a lot of potential in you, and I am a very good judge of character. I believe you will be very valuable to me as my assistant! You would be foolish to deny this offer."

Criswell shook his head. "What you say is too good to be true, Mr. Qaraq," he said, trying to remember which Rule of Acquisition applied in this situation.

"I assure you I mean what I say, Mr. Sandbags." Qaraq said with all sincerity in his deep voice.

Criswell grinned wider than he had in weeks. "Then I accept your offer!" he said with the most glee he'd ever had. "And please, call me Criswell." He took off his apron, an old rag riddled with stains, and threw it to the ground. "I'm going to march back into the kitchen and tell my boss I quit!"

Qaraq cackled. "Tell him he's fired!"

OFF

 

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