Strike a Bargain

Posted on Sun Mar 10th, 2024 @ 6:48am by Caeda & Captain Ivan Petrov & Immy

Mission: S1 Episode 7: Prime Factors
Location: Holodeck 2
Timeline: Date 2371-09-17 at 1900
5112 words - 10.2 OF Standard Post Measure

ON


Ivan stood in a room with intimate, warm light before a large floor to ceiling that showed a spectacular view of Sikaris. Behind him, a table was covered in dishes of all kinds with variety enough to sample the best and most fitting cuisine the Empire had to offer. Stewards, dressed in white, carried dishes in and placed them neatly. Ivan turned to the woman who was giving them direction.

“What else do we need to do?” He asked, approaching her.

“We’re ready, sir. Once she and her team arrive, I’ll pour the wine.” Immy said with a grin. Her vibrant red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore a blouse which fit close to her notably curvaceous body and was low,cut enough to give anyone an invitation to view. She wore a black skirt with it and black flats.

“Good.” Ivan said with a satisfied look, tapping his combadge. “Transport Room One, are our visitors ready to come aboard?”

“Yes, sir.” Came the simple gentle response of Petty Officer Elena Cruz, her voice sweet and heavily accented.

“Good.” He said, taking a professional position near the window. “Energize.”

A few seconds later, the blue light of the transporter filled the space and Syrene appeared with one attendant. She had spoken with Ivan the evening before and had been intrigued by his offer of a meal of Terran delicacies much more than his indication he was looking to make some sort of trade deal. She was dressed in what was undoubtedly Sikarian fashion in a dress that seemed to be made out of different shades of blue fabric fashioned into waves that started down one shoulder and cascaded down her body, lengthening until they simply ended in a straight fabric skirt to the floor. It was pretty in a more avant-garde style than most Terrans would have worn. Her hair was in an elaborate updo and she wore chunky pieces of gold jewelry. Syene pulled it all off, but it was certainly a lot. Her attendant was a stark contract and was dressed in a very simple navy dress that hit just above her knee.

“Captain Petrov!” Syrene greeted gregariously. “How wonderful it is to see you face to face. Tell me, has your crew been enjoying Sikaris?”

“Magistrate Syrene. It’s good to see your face again. Your dress is lovely.” Ivan answered in a smooth and confident tone. He wasn’t the most charming man in the world, but he could be charismatic and certainly was no shrinking violet. “My crew and I love your world. It’s been so nice to take a break after so much travel and drama.”

He turned to the other woman with a smile.

“I’m Captain Ivan Petrov; it’s lovely to meet you as well.” He said, clearly anticipating an introduction.

“This is my aide, Mella.” Syrene introduced, turning her body slightly to the side to offer a welcoming bridge between the two.

Mella stepped up with a smile and nodded. She carried a large tablet pad resting in the crook of one bent arm and with the other she extended her hand out to Ivan. It was a slightly tentative maneuver, but her face was hopeful. “I learned this is how your people greet each other?”

“Formally, yes it is.” Ivan said, shaking her hand gently. “It is how equals in Terran society greet each other. We have a monarchy, a nobility, and some differences in class beyond that, so it isn’t necessarily universal anymore.”

“Oh I see.” Mella flushed a bit, but seemed very glad Ivan had humored her. “Well, thank you, Captain. Your culture sounds quite fascinating.”

“I agree, it really does.” Syrene nodded and then turned back toward Ivan, commanding the attention off of Mella. “I’ve been looking forward to this dinner you have promised. This is quite the grand room you have here. Is this where you host all of your meals?”

“Only the most special ones, ma’am.” Ivan said, turning and gesturing toward the table. “Please, let’s get started.”

Two Terrans also wearing black and white pulled out the ladies chairs in a uniform motion. Ivan waited, expecting his guests to take their seats before he would.

The two women moved to the offered chairs with Syrene sitting closest to Ivan. “Would you tell me a little about how your society works, Captain? I find monarchies to be a fascinating subject.”

“What to say about my home?” Ivan said, sitting down in his own chair. “Terra is a beautiful planet and our capital world. Our Empire was forged by my race hundreds of years ago, led by a succession of Emperors. Terra alone has an incredibly rich and diverse history and many many distinct cultures with their own music, art, and language. When you add her Empire to the mix, the culture is truly of a fantastic and incalculable value.”

Immy and the two men entered the room through a pair of doors carrying porcelain plates lined with gold and placed them in front of the three.

“Our first course is something we call a salad; a dish made with leafy green vegetables along with assorted others, all topped with a dressing sauce.”

Immy next brought around a large bottle of wine and poured into their glasses one at a time.

“How interesting. We have something similar, but I’m looking forward to trying this.” Syrene replied, not acknowledging the servers as they moved about their work. “So your world has not always been an Empire?”

Mella for her part whispered a quiet thank you to Immy when the redhead poured the wine, but she was trying not to be intrusive to her boss’ conversation.

“No, the Empire developed rather late in our world history, though there were other large Empires before the Terran Empire gathered the entire planet together. An event we called World War 3 caused unprecedented destruction and resulted in the world being split into zones where cooperation and peace were thought to be more likely. Eventually, however, the craftier and more powerful nations came out on top, and then the Empire was formed just 12 years after we discovered warp technology.” Ivan explained. He was a lover of history, and spoke rather animatedly on the topic. “How do you like your salad?”

Immy lingered, listening to Ivan explain the history. When Mella had thanked her, she gave a beautiful and engaged smile and gave her a bit more wine than the others.

Syrene was listening and engaged in the conversation. She seemed to quite enjoy how passionately Ivan spoke on the topic at hand. When he paused to ask about the salad, she blinked as if broken from a trance.

“Ah, it is very good.” She smiled. “What was the name of your first Emperor?”

“His name was Antonius. He was actually an assistant of the man who invented our version of Warp Drive. He rose high in his particular zone and eventually conquered the entire world using resources he acquired from one of our alien species known as the Vulcans. A bloody tale to be sure. One of many in our war-formed history.” Ivan answered, noticing she was far more interested in the story than the food. “Our current Emperor is of a different royal line, but is known as Antonius VI.”

“I see. What happened to the line of the first Emperor?” Syrene asked as the waiters came to clear off the empty salad plates in preparation for the next course.

“Like so many powerful dynasties, they devolved into murder and usurpation, brother against brother. The line, their family name was Silva, ended with a father and son named Gabrielus and Antonius IV.” He began to explain as the next course came out. “The father, Gabrielus, was weak, and was seduced by a famous temptress of a different race. Under her control, he was cruel, and worked to destroy Terran control over the Empire. His son attempted to stop him, and even ousted him for a time, but it was all ended when a member of our military, a woman with access to technology from the future, usurped the Empire and killed them both. It’s an incredibly interesting story, really.”

The dishes were uncovered and a tasteful dish was presented, clearly expertly prepared and placed.

“Our cooks have outdone themselves.” Ivan said with a smile. “The meat is chicken, and I believe the breading is coated in a natural and delicious sweet substance called honey which is actually produced by one of our pollinating insects. This vegetable is known as brócoli and it is buttered and salted.”

“Hm hm hm.” Syrene mused and leaned closer to the plate, inhaling the scents coming off of the plate. She eyed the broccoli with a bit of skepticism, but picked up her knife and fork to sample everything.

“Such a simple looking dish, is this something you eat often?” While it could have come off as a critique, it seemed the woman was just curious.

“It is quite normal for us, yes. The next course is much more extravagant. This one, I’m sure, will be quite delicious.” He answered, using his knife and fork to cut into the meat.

Syrene nodded. Both she and Mella took the lead from Ivan and cut into the meat presented to them. After a moment of silent eating and consideration, Syrene smiled. “Simple, but that is quite delicious. I like the sweetness from the… what did you say it was? Honey?”

“Sometimes, when something’s too complicated, it ruins the experience.” Immy cut in, uninvited, her lilting accent different from Ivan’s. She smiled at the other women. “For a Terran, a simple pleasure often beats out an extreme one. A glass of wine, winning an award, kissing someone beautiful. A great orgasm.”

Ivan choked on his wine a bit, and started coughing lightly. He willed himself to stop and reached for a cloth napkin.

“Yes,” he said.” We appreciate the simple with the complex.”

Syrene laughed at Immy’s comment and Ivan’s coughing only seemed to add to her amusement. Her alien eyes sparkled and she nodded. “Yes, that is very true and wise. All of those things are… quite nice. Some are even nicer than others.”

Her gaze moved to Ivan again and lingered a moment while she took a sip of her wine. “Tell me though, Captain, you wanted to discuss some sort of trade?”

“I did, actually.” He said, taking a bite of the delicious second course and enjoying the natural, inviting flavors of the dish. He watched for an instant as Immy turned and exited the room before returning to his thought. “As you know, we are trying very hard to get back home. We are tens of thousands of light years away, and that’s a long time. While enjoying our stay on your beautiful planet, some of my crew happened upon a piece of technology, which resembles our transporter in some ways. Your trajector could shave decades or more off of our journey. We would very much like to acquire it.”

“Ah… the spatial trajector.” Syrene’s expression faltered slightly and then she sighed, giving a sad smile. “I’m afraid that would not be possible. We do not share such advanced technology.”

“May I ask why not?” Ivan asked, undisturbed by the initial rejection. It was expected, after all.

“Our canon of law strictly forbids it. Once it is out of our control, it might end up falling into the hands of someone who would abuse it or worse, turn it against us.” She pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Our hope is to use it to move quite far away from you. I think there would be little danger of that. And, if you’d like, we can destroy the technology once we finish our jump.” Ivan said, knowing of course they both knew there would be no way in Hades they would ever give up such an amazing technological advancement.

Immy entered the room again with another bottle of wine and set about refilling their glasses silently.

Where she had seemed genuinely apologetic before, she became obviously less so in the face of the “promise” to destroy the technology. The Terrans had a reputation and it was not exactly one she wanted to help enable them to further. “This is very difficult for me, Captain. I don’t enjoy denying you this request, but our laws determine our entire system of values. Surely you can understand that?”

“I can understand the difficulty, yes.” Ivan said, reaching for his wine glass, and using the sip, he took everything to hide the tightening of his jaw. “But surely, you also understand my position. I must get my crew home, and I am willing to expend or trade considerable resources to make that happen. I think your technology presents a unique opportunity, and I’m confident you and I might be able to come to some sort of arrangement. Perhaps, if you’re not willing to gift us the technology, you might be able to use it to send us yourselves. We have impressive technologies to trade in exchange.”

This prospect Syrene seemed to consider more closely. She pursed her lips and took a sip of wine then sucked the excess off her lower lip. “We have never utilized the technology in that way before, but it should be achievable perhaps. What did you have to offer?”

“You love stories.” He said with a smile, glad there was room for talk on this point. “To start, I can offer you our entire cultural database; detailed records of thousands of cultures on hundreds of worlds. Tales of Empires, wars, and love; literature that would leave you and your people in awe.”

The servers entered and removed their second courses silently, lifting the plates from in front of the diners in uniform time and walking out with them.

“Mm… yes we do love stories.” Syrene confirmed with a thoughtful smile. “Even the few things you have told me here at this table have been wonderfully fascinating.”

Her alien eyes looked at the door where the waiters had been coming and going expectantly, wondering what treat would be presented now. “Do you have any such fascinating stories just from your crew? Your story in general is an unusual one.”

“We have had quite a few interesting experiences since we have entered the Delta Quadrant, and many of them have already become legend. The destruction of the Ocampa, for example, would be a fascinating piece of literature and a historical document.”

The door opened again, and this time the three brought in plates that came with a delightful smell. They sat down in front of the dinners.

“Excellent cuts of what we call steak with truffles, baked asparagus, and a dish called potatoes au gratin. The wine is a nice Cabernet Sauvignon. I think you’ll find this dish, though much more complex, delights the senses all the more. Just save room for dessert.”

“Oh this smells quite wonderful.” Syrene agreed, seeming much more engaged with the steak dish than she had with the others, she devoured it with her eyes first, and pulled the dish a bit closer to herself.

“Yes, I remember when word reached us about the Ocampa, though I do believe you may have done the galaxy a favor there if rumors were true. More recently though you had an encounter with the Numiri and the Baneans, did you not?”

“The Ocampa were monsters, slaving away after a being of great power. A dying god of sorts who brought us here very-much against our will.” Ivan said, running his sharp blade through the tender meat. “The Baneans and Numiri behaved very poorly and did us great harm when none was intended for them. We do come in peace, despite what people may say.”

“And now the Numiri are more or less extinct and the Baneans are an endangered species.” Strangely, Syrene didn’t seem all that bothered by that fact. She cut into her steak and made a pleased sound. “So tender. It reminds me of the meat of one of our own animals, but this is much more fragrant.”

“There is something else much more impressive I have to offer you.” Ivan said, steering her mind straight back to the important topic at hand. “You have holograms, but they are, quite frankly, rudimentary and limited. Our technology is nearly perfect. It can create countless incredible pleasure experiences.”

“They are rudimentary and limited because why would we want to experience facsimiles when true pleasures are so readily accessible?” She asked Ivan, her tone perhaps just a touch condescending as if she thought he should be well aware of the differences and consider them lesser as well.

“Not all pleasures are available to us. Some are far off, still others only present themselves to a fortunate few.” Ivan answered, unperturbed by her condescending tone. “Our technologies are imperceptibly different from reality, and he won’t find you’ll be able to tell whether you are in a simulated experience or a real one.

At this point, a man in a black suit and tie approached the table and took a free seat, scooting up and watching as one of the men in black and white sat a wine glass down in front of him and started to fill it. He was handsome and tall, with tan skin, dark olive skin, light stubble, piercing hazel eyes, and full, well-styled hair. The smell of his spicy cologne came with him

“How do you like this course?” He asked in a low, accented voice, interrupting the conversation and looking at the Sikarian women with mysterious curiosity.

Syrene’s unusual blue eyes shifted over to the newcomer and she quirked a brow slightly. “It is quite good. Very rich, but not overwhelming.”

She then looked over at Ivan, obviously anticipating some sort of introduction to this man who had made himself at home at the dinner table with them.

“This is our..chef for this evening.” Ivan responded, looking just slightly uncertain.

“Indeed. I’m dying to know what you think about your experience so far.” The man said with a smile, charming and dark. “The food, the wine, and even the room. How does it rate for you, ma’am? I must know.”

Syrene seemed perhaps mildly confused, but she was willing to indulge the questions. She smiled and turned her attention more directly to the chef. “Well in terms of uniqueness, it is certainly one of the more unique meals I have had, and the room is quite grand. For a room on a vessel such as this, I’m quite impressed.”

“What if I were to tell you,ma’am, that none of it is real?” He asked, smiling.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that? This food is quite real, I can taste it and feel myself getting full. Are you talking about the room? I don’t understand?” Syrene frowned.

The handsome man grinned and sipped his wine slowly, savoring the flavor. He looked at her and tipped the glass toward her.

“This feels real, it tastes real, and it gives us the tingles like it’s real, but it is just resequenced matter formed by a piece of technology we call a replicator. That steak, those truffles..they are a form of pleasure which Terran technology can create.”

The man stood up.

“This room…is not real.” He said, just as the earth-tone bulkheads and the large window melted away, replaced by an outdoor cafe on a busy street. “No more real than this lovely Italian cafe in Venice.”

The waiters now returned, but this time we’re wearing black vests and bow ties over their white shirts. They carried in new plates and traded them out for the last entree. The man who had introduced himself as the chef grinned.

“This is one of my favorites. I know you will adore it. Tiramisu. A delicious dessert.”

Both Syrene and Mella stood instantly when the area around them shifted into something completely new. Mella was near instantly at Syrene’s side and both of them looked rather disturbed. Syrene looked at Ivan, her brow furrowed.

“What is the meaning of this?” She demanded.

“It’s simple, Magistrate. Our technology has the power to create any food; any environment at a single command. It is also highly interactive. It is one of the things we have to offer you in exchange for your help. But please, do try the dessert. I assure you, you won’t want to miss it.” Ivan said, grabbing his utensil and digging in on his own. The Captain closed his eyes as he tasted the dish. It was perfection.

Syrene and Mella remained unsure, but after a few hushed words shared between them, they both finally moved and sat down. “How does this technology work, exactly?”

“We are simply sitting inside a room aboard the real Vengeance. This table, these chairs, and these people are all just part of the simulation.” He said, looking at the chef. “As you can see, the characters are capable of high-level interaction. Some use holodeck for adventure, some for work, and still other to play out some of their most exotic fantasies.”

He smiled at them.

“Any requests?”

Syrene’s eyes moved over to the chef and then she looked back at Ivan. “You’re trying to tell me this man is not real?” She asked, her tone incredulous.

“I’m not even a man.” The chef said and then, in an instant, Immy returned, except this time she was wearing a pink floral dress which matched the setting perfectly. She sat down again, glancing at Ivan with a smile. “By some feat of…magic or science, I became…integrated into the computer. My soul somehow exists here, and I can access a program here on the holodeck. The Captain thought I might be the perfect person to show you this technology.”

“We can replicate any environment here, even one’s that are familiar to you. It’s even used to participate in interactive stories we call “holo-novels.” Ivan said, knowing she would find that particularly interesting.

Both of the Sikarian women looked at Immy with Syrene perhaps looking almost disappointed that the man who had once been there was now gone. She listened to Ivan, but looked back at Immy. “So you are not real either?”

“No, I’m real” Immy protested immediately. “There was just an accident and my body is gone. Somehow, I’m still here. Before this happened though, I was a..member of this crewel she said, hesitating and looking at Ivan.

“But if you’re body is gone, you are dead. This projection isn’t real. Your cognitive patterns are just stored in the computer for people to play with.” Syrene replied, not seeming like she was trying to be offensive. She looked back to Ivan finally, “Tell me about these… holo-novels did you call them?”

Immy lowered her gaze then, the wind thoroughly taken out of her sails. It occurred to her she could show the woman how wrong she was if the crew hadn’t imposed these stupid rules on them. Though, after all, the woman wasn’t a Terran. Perhaps she could give it a try.

“They are stories with plots like any other, just live action. They are the preferred form of entertainment in the Empire, at least so far as one-on-one fun goes. I never really got into them, but I happen to know my Executive Officer enjoys historic stories. If you, for example, want to experience history or any event which is long gone, the holodeck is the best place to do so.”

Mella looked over toward Immy with a slight frown, but eventually moved her attention back to Syrene and Ivan.

“Hm.” Syrene mused and finally scooped up a bite of her tiramisu to inspect it. “If you do not like such things, that isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of them.” She noted and then finally actually took the bite she had been holding.

“Some people don’t like stories at all, Magistrate. I assure you it’s nothing to worry about. People pay tons of money for use of these rooms on my home world. I don’t think you will dismiss it so easily..” Ivan said, dismissing the concern off hand. “So, can we make a deal, Syrene? Truly, if it comes down to trade items, we can make it work.”

The Sikarian woman didn’t answer immediately given she was quite enthralled with the dessert. She ignored Ivan’s question in favor of taking a few more bites, then finally put her spoon down and wiped her mouth with her napkin. Sighing, she sat back and folded her hands on the table in front of her. “You do truly make a tempting offer. Perhaps I might offer one in return? Why don’t you and your people stay here with us?”

Ivan’s eyes went up, thick signals of genuine surprise. The thought hadn’t occurred to him, as he had honestly been laser focused on getting home. His face relaxed again and he picked up his spoon, preparing for another bite. Before he took it, however, he shook his head.

“On the other side of our galaxy, the great Terran Empire is locked in war with an evil Alliance over seventy years our enemy. We were brought to this Quadrant while on a mission to deal them a terrible blow, and we failed. We owe it to the Emperor, to Imperial Starfleet, and to our friends and families to get home as soon as we can. I’m afraid not, Magistrate.”

“I understand. I will have to speak with the other magistrates about your request. Some of them are traveling right now, but I will send word for them to return as soon as possible. You are welcome to stay until then.” Her expression softened slightly and she offered a smile. “If we cannot come to an agreement, though, consider my offer to you. You would be most welcome and if what I understand is true, you would not be back to your world in your lifetime nor that of most of your crew. It would be your children and grandchildren returning to a place where most of them never knew to begin with, would it not?”

“If it took the full time, yes.” Ivan answered, placing his spoon down on the plate and turning his eyes to the Italians and tourists walking down the side street. “But it won’t take that long. You have heard the tales, and you know us to be both resourceful and insistent when we need to be. We will find a way home.”

“Perhaps you will. I do hope you will; and I hope if you do the story comes back here for us to tell it.” She smiled, looking down at her empty plate. “Could I have the recipe for this?”

“I’ll have it forwarded to you. You might need to find some equivalent flavors on your world, but I imagine that won’t be too much of a challenge.” Ivan said, looking at her more seriously. “I hope you and your colleagues will meet soon. I’m sure you understand we cannot wait forever. Our time here is almost already over.”

“Of course, of course. But I insist you stay as our guests until we do meet. Do not worry about what you arranged for. Consider it a gift.” Syrene gave a wave of her hand and another smile. “I’m certain we will meet quite soon.”

“I will do my best to hold back the horses.” Ivan said, standing then. “Please, allow me to show you the real Vengeance as we head back to the transporter room.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Syrene stood and glanced over at Immy who had gone quiet. She seemed to hesitate, but erred on the side of politeness. “It was lovely to meet you.”

Immy looked up at the woman, her expression just shy of complete contempt. She didn’t have much left to be devalued and humiliated, but the woman had found the single button. She stood tall, almost defiant, and set her jaw. Her beautiful face communicated how unhappy she was with Syrene. It was a good thing for the woman that the Captain was present and she wanted to be as useful as possible for the man in order to, hopefully, have more freedom to live a normal life.

“Likewise, Magistrate.” Immy said, forcing an astoundingly convincing smile and a slight bow of her head. Those slave skills were well taught. She looked over at Ivan then. “Thank you for allowing me to assist, sir.”

“You’ve been very helpful, Immy.” Ivan said, placing a large powerful hand on her exposed shoulder and giving her a fatherly smile. “Now, shut it down, would you please.”

In the next instant, the program ended and everything besides the three genuine bodied people disappeared, leaving the hologrid behind. Ivan gestured around the room and smiled.

“Here is the ultimate vehicle for the fruit of imagination.”

“It looks so unsophisticated.” Syrene observed the black and yellow grid around them pensively. “And to be somewhere else you just… what? Speak to it?”

“Correct.” Ivan said with a nod, unbothered by what others might have considered an insult. “If you’d like, I can arrange a private viewing for you at a later date. You would be able to explore it on your own, as a sign of…goodwill and cooperation between our peoples.”

“I would enjoy that. Perhaps you can offer a list of suggestions for places to explore, but for now I would love to see your home and meet some of your crew perhaps.” She smiled graciously and turned to face Ivan fully.

Ivan wasn’t surprised how deep the woman’s curiosity went. He smiled and gestured toward the blast doors that permitted access to the room.

“All of this we can do for you, Magistrate.” he said, and then led the women out into the corridor beyond with a confident stride.

“Wonderful, wonderful. Your hospitality is much appreciated, Captain.” Syrene seemed quite happy to follow along and even Mella was looking on in intensely curious silence.

All in all, it seemed the negotiations had gone quite well.

END