Lt. Cmdr Robin Hopper: Humble Introductions
Robin Hopper
((Nygean Transit Port, bordering the Eakarian Expanse – Delta Quadrant))
After spending a bit more time in the antique engineering curio shop (unfortunately, no Voth parts on clearance!) Robin, Scotty, and Harrison made their way back into the widespread market. The entirety of the bazaar was spread over two levels. The uppermost level, where they were now, included a central circle of smaller vendors – a its center were the least-affluent merchants, with their little tables and blankets spread out, surrounding by a ring of pop-up stalls, and finally bordered by legitimate storefronts like the one they had just visited.
Growing up on a Federation colony world on the fringes of the Beta Quadrant, its capital city encircling a busy starport, ‘commerce’ and ‘trade’ had always been present as background factors in Robin’s youth. The Hoppers operated a farm, the crops from which were predominantly consumed right there on Theta VII – but a not-insignificant portion was also transported off-world, some of it even traded to non-Federation entities. While ‘capital gain’ had never been the motivating factor in her family’s efforts, the concept of monetary exchange was at least passingly familiar to her… still, wrapping her head around interstellar exchange rates, the valuation of specific market goods, and the finer points of ‘haggling’ eluded her.
So, when Ensign Blackwood stopped in front of a Ferengi merchant’s stall (a sight which surprised Robin, here on a Nygean station on the opposite side of the galaxy from Ferenginar), Robin was immediately on her guard. The Ferengi had a reputation for manipulation in service to personal greed (imagine that!) oO I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see them already making inroads in the Delta Quadrant, now that the option has presented itself… Oo
Blackwood: Hey! :to vendor: How much for this piece of junk?
She watched the exchange carefully, hoping that the presence of a higher-ranking Starfleet Officer might dissuade the merchant from dishonest bargaining tactics.
Ferengi Vendor: Junk?! That, my friend, is an *exquisite* artifact of ancient civilisation.
Reade: You just made him more upset Harrison. Never tell a Ferengi their stuff is junk.
Robin glanced at Scotty, who had also come to join in the experience as an observer – or, perhaps more accurately, an advisor.
Hopper: Well, how are we supposed to know it isn’t junk? ::To Harrison:: I collect antique records, among other things. The really unique ones come with documentation, verifying their authenticity. ::To the Ferengi:: Do you have any such paperwork for this… “artifact”?
The Ferengi stammered slightly, clearly perplexed at the request. Robin wasn’t sure it actually made any sense to suggest that an ancient relic might come with documentation or not – but it still seemed to have caught the merchant off guard.
Blackwood: It’s a glorified paperweight and will make a nice shelf gift. Come on, give me a decent price.
Ferengi Vendor: Fine fine. Twenty strips of latinum. Deal? Deal. ::Extends hand::
((OOC – I have updated this line, with permission from its original author, to clarify that they are dealing in ‘strips’ of latinum.))
Blackwood: Twenty? :to Hopper and Reade: Can you believe this guy?
Reade: ::shrugging shoulder:: Well, I am not good at bartering myself, sadly.
Robin nudged Scotty with her elbow, recognizing that his blunt honesty might not be doing them any favours. Looking the Ferengi in the eye, she crossed her arms.
Hopper: We still know more about Ferengi business practices than the average buyer you’re probably used to dealing with around here… ::To Blackwood:: Never accept the first price they offer. Haggling is expected.
Blackwood: I agree. I’ll offer you five.
Ferengi Vendor: Fifteen.
Blackwood: Seven point five.
Ferengi Vendor: Thirteen.
Robin’s eyes darted back and forth along with the rapid-fire negotiating.
Reade: I am staying out of this.
Hopper: ::Nodding:: It’s moving too fast for me to keep track of anyways.
Blackwood: Ten, highest offer. If not, keep it.
There was a pause as the merchant considered his options.
Ferengi Vendor: ::Delayed:: Fine, ten! Hand it over!
With a smile, Blackwood, reached into his belt pouch and produced the slips of gold-pressed latinum, dropping them into the vendor’s hands in exchange for his trinket. As he held it for a moment, Robin got a better look at it – some sort of metal sphere covered in fine detail work… decorative, perhaps, though it appeared mechanical in nature, so it probably served some sort of purpose (or, at least, did at some point).
The merchant, despite his protestations, seemed pleased with the settled amount, happily pocketing the latinum and leaving them behind to go and add it to his register.
Blackwood: Phew. That was intense, right? So what else?
Reade: Well, it was Ferengi. But you did well, Harrison. You will get them next time, young Padawan.
Hopper: Nothing else on this level caught my eye. ::Indicating the nearby spiral stairs down to the second level:: But there’s a whole second level below us. Why don’t we move along before he comes back and tries to sell us something else?
As there were no objections, Robin led them down the flight of curling stairs, which deposited them in the more dimly-lit “Evening District” (according to her attempted translation of the Nygean sign).
It reminded her of the “Merchant’s District” on Amity – though the atmosphere was far ‘cleaner’ and less rough-around-the-edges. Each storefront seemed adorned with glittering lights and neon designed to entice and draw in passersby. A bar with a neon sign depicting an unfamiliar alien creature (that sort of looked like a wet cat?) pouring from a bottle into a shot glass caught her eye.
Hopper: What would you boys say to trying one drink, on me? I know we’re all on duty, but how often do you get to sample real Delta Quadrant hooch? If we like what we try, maybe they’ll sell us a bottle to take home.
Blackwood: I’m down. Just the one, right?
Reade: Sure, just one though right? Normally, I do not drink.
They both replied, almost in unison. Robin rolled her eyes. Were they both really so straight-laced they couldn’t enjoy a little ‘liquid cultural xeno-anthropology?’ Or were they just nervous about getting tipsy in front of the Second Officer? Well, either way, it was Robin’s turn to choose where they went, so they were coming with her, whether they joined her in a drink or not.
Hopper: ::Chuckling:: It was a rhetorical question anyways. Come on.
She made her way into the bar, the doors – evidently laser projections, rather than real physical doors – fizzling out of the way as she approached. Inside, the atmosphere was lively (though not nearly as “lively” as the Klingon bar in Amity’s merchant district. Robin recalled that the Nygean justice system was quite punitive. Perhaps that was a way in which they maintained decorum and order even in inherently unruly places, such as spaceport bars.
But what really caught her eye was the man seated at the end of the bar, about two-thirds of his way through a bottle of some sort of yellow glowing spirit. He was a hulking fellow, at least a solid foot or two taller than Hopper, judging by his seated stature, and easily over three hundred pounds. Most importantly, though, was the saurian features of his face, and the small protruding cranial crest that stuck out of the back of his skull.
Hopper: ::Tapping Scotty and Harrison on the shoulders:: Oh! Oh! That’s a Voth at the bar. I’m sure of it! ::Clearing her throat:: Oh, um, act casual. Let’s get a table, order some drinks, see if we can figure out how to initiate conversation, hmm?
Blackwood: *You’re* telling *us* to be casual? ::Amused snort::
Robin squinted. oO Just what is that supposed to mean? I’m extremely casual… ::Self-Aware Pause:: …Maybe that’s an oxymoron. Oo
Reade: Ok Robin. You got it.
oO Thank you. Oo
Blackwood: I’ll grab drinks. Should I just go for whatever?
Robin briefly looked at the bar’s listings, which were mostly written in untranslated Kathesis Standard anyhow. Only the featured drinks – typed out on a light-bordered screen – included legible text.
Hopper: I’m not picky. Odds are none of their drinks are made with ingredients from Earth anyways, so… it’ll be an experience!
Reade: Grab what is on tap I guess here. If that is even a thing out here.
Robin shrugged. Only one way to find out. She gave Blackwood an extremely casual nod and a thumbs up, then motioned for Scotty to take a seat at the nearest table. While Harrison went to collect their drinks, Robin seated herself in a chair that allowed her to casually observe the Voth sitting at the bar – who either hadn’t noticed them or, if he had, couldn’t seem to care less about their presence.
Robin was so caught up in staring at the man who, as far as Starfleet science was concerned, was a genuine descendant of Earth’s ancient dinosaurs – or, at least, some of the species which hadn’t gone extinct during the Cretaceous extinction event – that she hardly noticed Harrison making his way to the bar and placing an order. The entire thing was baffling. But what was even more baffling was that their ancestry wasn’t even the most interesting thing about the Voth, at least not to Robin. Another science officer, specialized in biology, say, might about convincing the spacefaring saurians to reexamine their genetic heritage – but, as a Psychist, Hopper was primarily concerned with their unique ‘transwarp systems…’
Her thoughts were cut short by the reappearance of Ensign Blackwood, as he returned to their group with a handful of colourful beverages for them to choose from.
Blackwood: Alright! I’ve got three drinks up for grabs. A Sapphire Nebula, Crimson Nova and a Solar Flare Sunrise. Who wants one? ::Smiling::
Hopper: Ooo, well, don’t those look fun? ::Pursing her lips in thought:: I’ll take the Solar Flare – see how it compares to the ‘Centauran Sunrise’.
Reade: Hmm, the Crimson Nova looks good. I'll give that a go.
Hopper: ::Chuckling:: Guess that makes your choice easy, Ensign. Enjoy your Sapphire Nebula.
Blackwood: Response
The drinks were passed around and Robin held hers aloft over the center of the table, clinking it against Reade’s and Blackwood’s glasses. While it hadn’t exactly been a ‘routine’ voyage, she was enjoying the funny little trip so far – and the fact that they had already located one of the Voth only lifted her spirits further.
She grinned, then brought the glass to her lips and took a cautious sip. There was a surprising burst of intense sour flavour right as the bright orange liquid touched her tongue that nearly made her spit the drink back into its glass – but, an instant later, the acid turned to sweet. Robin blinked as the overwhelming flavour-swap threw her senses for a loop.
Reade: ::sipping:: Oh that is good, so what is the plan, Robin?
Hopper: ::Letting out a small sneeze-like sound:: Choo! Wow. That… That is something.
She set the glass down on the table, spinning it for a moment as her face scrunched involuntarily. Finally, as she recovered from the experience, she looked back and forth between the other two officers.
Hopper: Umm, well, good question. ::Glancing at the Voth again:: We know so little about their culture, it’s hard to formulate a strategy. What we do know is that they’re a proud people and they aren’t overly fond of folks like us. ::Looking at Harrison and Scotty with an eyebrow quirked:: Mammals, that is.
Needless to say, they couldn’t exactly walk over and start making demands to see their technology.
Blackwood: Response
Reade: You are the one that should go introduce us.
Robin nodded. She had figured that would be the case.
Hopper: Yeah, yeah that’s fair. ::Smirk:: Don’t worry. Ultimately, the success or failure of this particular aspect of our unofficial ‘mission’ here will rest on my shoulders. That said, I’m in uncharted waters here too – and I chose you two to accompany me because of your skill sets.
She gestured to them, in turn.
Hopper: Scotty, you’re one of our finest Engineers – and I know you have an interest in propulsion technology. Harrison, who better than our senior HCO to advise on how transwarp technology might integrate with our systems? ::Pause:: I’m happy to get the ball rolling, but I need you both with me.
Blackwood: Response
Reade: Oh, I see. We go as a group then. Even our chances, I guess.
Hopper: Good. ::Running her finger along the rim of her glass, absent-mindedly:: I figure a humble approach will be best. The Voth look at us as ‘lesser lifeforms’ apparently. I guess I can’t blame them, considering we are literally here to learn about their advanced technology.
She rolled her eyes.
Hopper: Maybe we can leverage that pride to our advantage. ::Looking to them both with an amused smile:: I hope you’re both comfortable with a little self-deprecation in the name of advancing science.
Blackwood/Reade: Response
With that, she took another swig of her drink, and – doing her best not to shout in pure shock at the flavour – stood up, moving towards the bar. She gave both of the other officers a nod to follow.
Arriving at the bar, she was greeted by the Nygean bartender, who looked at her with curious eyes.
Bartender: Yes? Can I help you? ::Noticing Robin’s half-full glass:: Is your beverage to your satisfaction?
Hopper: Oh, yes, of course. Lovely. But, as we are new to this part of space, I was wondering if you might tell me a little about the ingredients. I’m having trouble identifying all the flavours.
The Nygean looked amongst the assembled Starfleet Officers with an expression Robin thought appeared skeptical.
Bartender: Well, I cannot share the recipes in full… But, if you are interested I can provide a list of the primary ingredients. Do you have a datapad?
Robin nodded, reaching into the flap of her uniform and retrieving the mini PADD she had brought along, passing it over.
Bartender: Very well. I’ll return with that momentarily.
As he moved off, passing through a door into the back room, Robin ‘let her eyes wander’ over towards the Voth seated several stools down the bar from them. She gasped, playing at surprise and wonder.
Hopper: My goodness! ::A hand on her chest:: I never imagined we’d be so fortunate. I’m terribly sorry to bother you sir but are you… one of the acclaimed and distinguished Voth?
The reptilian man slowly turned his gaze towards the three Starfleet Officers, his expression neutral. Robin recalled from Voyager’s scarce notes on the species that, while they lacked many of the expressive body language cues common amongst mammalian species, the Voth added subtle nuance to their expressions through vasodilation – the expanding and constricting of blood vessels, leading to changes in the hue of their hides… However, if this fellow were doing so, Robin had no cue.
There was a palpable silence as he seemed to be considering whether or not to even bother engaging with them (or so Robin assumed).
Voth: ::Hesitantly:: Yes. Who’s asking?
Hopper: Oh! Where are my manners. I am Lieutenant Commander Robin Hopper, of the United Federation of Planets. These are my colleagues…
Blackwood/Reade: Response
Hopper: And it is such an honour to make your acquaintance. ::Chuckling:: We have all heard stories of your magnificent society that, well, frankly, put our own somewhat to shame!
Voth: ::Still skeptical:: I see. ::Beat:: Federation of Planets? You are… Human, then? Is that correct?
Robin nodded, eagerly.
Voth: You are a long way from home. Don’t tell me, you’re “lost” and trying to find your way back to… wherever it is you come from?
Blackwood/Reade: Response
((OOC Note – the Voth man at the bar is an NPC and any of us can write for him.))
