Ensign Meris - Meris and the Thousand Bars of Regret
Meris/Brian
(( Main Mess Hall – Deck 3, USS Artemis-A ))
Meris watched as the group began to sit down at the Galaxy-opoly table. It seemed there was to be no getting away from it.
Tho’Bi: ::to Cole:: Your weapon of choice!
Cole: Response
K’Wara selected the 'Recently Returned USS Voyager' piece.
K’Wara: You joining us?
The J’naii nodded and sighed lightly. Hopefully, the group would go easy on them as a first-time player. They moved to take a seat at the table and selected their playing piece. It looked nothing like any starship they’d ever seen before. It was oddly shaped – not like the others – long and flat on one side with a superstructure rising from the deck. Turning it over, they noted the pointed bow shape and finely detailed propellers at the rear. Upon its flat top, and again on the superstructure, '65' was etched into the gold, while the underside bore the inscription 'Big E.'
Meris: ::nodding:: I’ll be... I’ll be this piece. ::setting CVN-65, the USS Enterprise nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, into play::
The holo-Ferengi beamed at Meris grotesquely, then turned its focus to Tho’Bi.
Holo-Ferengi: ::sneering:: No profit to be won in a solo game!
Tho’Bi: ::to the Holo-Ferengi and shrugs:: Rule of Acquisition number one hundred and sixty-two... ::beat:: even in the worst of times, someone turns a profit.
The Holo-Ferengi howled with delight, clapping his hands together in rapid fashion.
K’Wara: All right, Holo-Grok, set the scene.
Holo-Ferengi: Any likeness to real people, including the illustrious Grok Brothers, is purely coincidental and in no way representative of the Grok Brothers’ approach to legal requirements associated with the hologame industry. If you find yourself recognizing someone, congratulations! You’ve either discovered a lucrative business opportunity or a very expensive lawsuit. Proceed with caution, and remember: profit is the only true reality; everything else is just a cheap holo-illusion.
K’Wara let out a loud laugh.
Holo-NOT-Grok: The goal of this family-friendly game of commerce is to outwit, outmaneuver, and outbid your rivals through cunning trades, ruthless economic conquest, and strategic bribery until you control the majority of the galaxy’s wealth – and preferably some starbases for good measure. Each businessman starts with 1,000 bars of gold-pressed latinum, the true currency of power. Using the starships you’ve generously taken off Starfleet’s hands for a not-insignificant sum, you must travel across the Quadrants to purchase trade stations and starbases.
One thousand tiny bars of holo-gold-pressed latinum arched outwards from the center of the game to each player, stacking neatly in front of them. Meris bent over the table to examine their stack. They wanted to count the bars but decided it would take far too long. They would have to take the Ferengi at his word – and even as the thought crossed their mind, they knew it was a bad idea.
Tho’Bi: ::to himself:: Really good noodles.
Meris: Noodles? This is already more complicated than I expected.
Cole/Bancroft: Responses.
K’Wara: I’m sure it was a 'not-significant-sum', though I’ve never known a Ferengi to call any sum of latinum insignificant.
Holo-NOT-Grok: The starting player is decided by an opening bribe to the bank. Which is me. ::Ferengi smirk::
K’Wara: Of course it is. ::interacts with player-station:: I’ll make the opening bid – ten bars of gold-pressed latinum.
Tho’Bi: ::slaps hand on table:: Fifteen bars.
The Holo-Ferengi interjected, apparently keen to encourage higher bidding.
Holo-Ferengi: Remember, my fellow profit seekers – ::raises finger in the air:: Rule of Acquisition number nine... ::beat:: opportunity plus instinct equals profit.
A huge three-dimensional golden nine manifested above them, with the rule orbiting its equator in a never-ending loop.
Meris wasn’t sure what to do. They were supposed to bid high to win the right to play first. They looked from their stack of latinum to the other players, then to the holo-NOT-Grok, then back again – several times – as if an answer might materialize in the air.
Meris: Can I bid 1,000 bars?
Cole/Bancroft: Responses
Meris: Oh. ::thinking:: Then I shall bid sixteen bars. ::playing it safe::
Cole/Bancroft: Responses
Eventually, the bid-bribes came in from around the table.
K’Wara: I have no clue. ::laughs:: I grew up in the Cammus System, near Gorn space, and didn’t leave home until joining Starfleet. I’ve been accosted by very few Ferengi.
Meris: I can’t say I’ve had much experience with them either. There were no Ferengi in my Academy class – or maybe they just all majored in Economics.
Cole/Bancroft: Response
The holo-NOT-Grok flung an arm outward in dramatic fashion, pointing at the player with the highest bid.
Holo-NOT-Grok: The highest bribe stands with this bold profit seeker!
The holographic Ferengi swept his arm around the circle of players, his floating torso, arms, and head rotating as he did so.
Meris watched in fascination. They knew it was just a hologram, but it was still a pretty impressive display of contortionism.
Holo-NOT-Grok: Any final bribes? ::grins::
Tho’Bi: ::shaking head:: No.
Meris: ::thoughtfully:: I’ll lower my bid to nine bars.
The holo-NOT-Grok made a face and scoffed at Meris before it moved on to the next player.
K’Wara/Cole/Bancroft: Response
The bid-bribes complete, holo-NOT-Grok pointed at the highest 'briber' while luminescent Dabo chips rained over them.
Holo-NOT-Grok: Behold! ::beat:: Our boldest profit-seeker!
Meris clapped politely as the highest bidder won the right to go first – partly to be supportive, partly because they still weren’t sure what was happening.
K’Wara/Cole/Bancroft: Response
The holographic rendering of NOT-Grok was replaced by a giant red, black, and gold Dabo wheel that floated inches above the tabletop. The head of the holo-Ferengi appeared at the center of the wheel, grinning at the highest 'briber'.
Holo-Ferengi: Spin the wheel! ::beat:: The higher the number – the more light-years you can go!
K’Wara/Cole/Bancroft: Response
Play proceeded around the table until it was Meris’ turn. Feeling slightly sick to their stomach, they leaned forward and spun the wheel. It landed on twenty, and they began moving their piece through the light-years until they landed on a wormhole.
Meris: What does that mean?
They didn’t have to wait long. Their piece suddenly began to spin and swirl, then was sucked into a vortex within the board.
Holo-Ferengi: Sorry! You lose your next turn! But don’t worry – there’s always Rule 88! 'It isn’t over till it’s over!'
A huge three-dimensional golden 88 manifested above them, with the rule orbiting its equator in a never-ending loop.
Meris frowned.
K’Wara/Tho’Bi/Cole/Bancroft: Responses
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Ensign Meris
Helm Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240207M14