Suits: Part 1 of 2
Location: Risa, Space Las Vegas: the Attraction, Bellagio hotel
As they were departing the casino, O'Dell had to hit the reclamator, as she often did. Even taking in as small an amount of alcohol as she did, her tiny bladder was often hyperactive once she broke the seal. And tonight was getting started early. Once they were in the reclamator, all that orange juice was doing a number of Gavarus' four stomachs, and she was relieving herself while O'Dell washed her hands and freshened up. Which was when a striking sapphire-skinned young woman passed behind her, who the Mariposian midget knew to be the chief engineer, Thex sh'Zoarhi. As she stepped into a stall, O'Dell wondered at who let the girl go to the loo alone from the main group. No buddy system, no going to the loo in packs.
Shaking her head and clucking her disapproval, O'Dell floofed up her hair a bit as a Nausicaan stepped into the reclamator. While the tiny test pilot wasn't fully certain about Nausicaan gender presentation, the individual appeared distinctly masculine to her eye. But what was genuinely odd to her was that he was wearing the same Earth-style black slacks and jacket, with a white collared shirt and a slender black tie.
"Beggin yuir pardon but ye sure yuir in the right one, m'friend?" O'Dell said to the brute, who scanned the sinks before moving in to start peering over the stalls.
Looking down at Gavarus on her reclimator, the massive Nausicaan grunted and moved to the next stall as the portly porcine let out a shout, "Dude!?!... the F***!?"
"Hey! Knock that off, ye masher! Fook off, ye pervert, or the arse kickin' ye'll get will be known by yuir grandkids!" the little lass barked out, a chihuahua snapping at the heels of a Doberman. but it did alert her shipmates to the situation, even as O'Dell began rolling up her sleeves to get down to the business of teaching the mercenary a lesson.
As the Nausicaan stopped outside of the stall Thex had gone into the door burst open clobbering the Nausicaan in the face and sending him reeling back. The Andorian burst out having been waiting for whoever had been clearly following her. The Nausicaan had only been stunned for a second and with a scream from it's kind, it charged at the Andorian who began defending herself with her chimera style of fighting.
Clutching her pants and yanking them back up, Briaar ran out of the stall, a streamer of toilet paper trailing from one of her hooves as she took in the sight and let out a squeal of a scream. "SQWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Recognizing the danger and opening her stall door, Thex emerged behind the peeping Nausicaan. As she was behind her attacker. she began furiously hitting her assailant in as many places of it's back that looked vulnerable places. Sadly the Nausicaan's hind was as thick as his skull bone and he barely seemed to notice as he tried to pull Thex off him. Moving like her body was made from water she wrapped around and leapt off as he tried ramming her against the wall. The wall crumbled and tiles broke and cracked as it let out a groan, made worse when Thex brought her foot round, and kicked it so hard two of its sharp pointy teeth flew across the room to land in a sink with a clatter.
"Stay behind me Briaar," Thex yelled, as the Nausicaan readied himself for another attack, spitting a huge glob of spit and blood to the floor.
"Me arse!" O'Dell scrambled around the mercenary, latching herself bodily around the tall toothsome besuited thug's knees, throwing him off-balance. "Get him, girls!"
Glancing around slightly, Gavarus picked up the rather large, cylindrical metal trash receptacle and, as she was tall enough to do so, swang it clear over Thex's head and smashed it against the top of the Nausicaan's head, yelling all the while. "AAAAHHHHHH!!!!" The hit only elicited an annoyed grunt from the massive brute before it looked away from the Tellarite back to the target of its attention.
Thex didn't wait and charged him hitting the attacker straight in the face in the face knocking out another one of his teeth. One of the blows must have hit something as the Nausicaan let out a wheeze as it fell to the floor on its hands wheezing. Not wasting a moment Thex grabbed his arms and neck as she put him into a tight grip. " Why are you following me?" She yelled loudly.
"You're... Vlidal Nog, the heiress, daughter of Glidal Nog, the media tycoon. You're here on vacation with your mother, and the Syndicate put out a hit on you... real specific rules. Gotta be wearing this stupid black suit, gotta be a confirmed kill, and as a bonus the Syndicate is gonna eliminate the evidence afterward. Didn't figure you'd be so tough..." the Nausicaan grunted as Thex tightened the chokehold, turning it into a sleeper hold.
As the massive alien in the fitted black suit's eyes rolled into the back of its head, passing out, the twitchy Tellariate spoke again. "Uh... Vlidal Nog? Who the frickin' hell is Vlidal Nog?"
"Uh... are you Vlidal Nog, chief?" A positively perplexed Gavarus said, still holding the bent trash receptacle over her head like a cudgel ready to swing again if the Nausicaan should awaken.
"No, I'm not Vlidal Nog," Thex said, letting out what a sigh and a laugh would sound like as she tightened her sleeper hold until the thug was unconscious. Going through his pockets she found a padd and a disrupter. She was partly relieved they'd not been after her, but now as Starfleet officers, they had a job to do. Looking to her two companions she began ripping the thug's suit to tie him up. "Well, looks like we have to get Risa security, and fast. Don't know why the syndicate wants this girl, but we have to stop them."
"Well, I dunno. We're on a weird-ass ship. It wasn't THAT unreasonable to imagine you might be a secret... whatever he said... heiress." Gavarus said, putting the trash can back down and finally noticed that her pants were still unbuttoned from when she came rushing out of the bathroom. "Ahh, crap. Let me... okay, suck it in, Briaar!"
"Why do you think he had ta' wear a black suit like ours, Fee?" Briaar said, taking a breath after successfully zipping her pants back up.
"If Ah hadda take a guess, it's either a cultural thing," O'Dell started, as Thex shook her head to the negative. "Or it's a mobster thing. Ye might or might not recall the race, but if they're all wearing plain black suits, that makes a distracting detail they would be most of what witnesses would identify. Noow, as far as Risa security..." O'Dell began before she launched herself at Thex. tackling the slightly larger woman onto the tile floor of the restroom, even as the twinkling effect of a transporter took hold and slowly transported the Nausicaan away. Lying atop the blue-skinned engineer. the tiny test pilot apologized.
"Sorry LC... I saw it startin' and I dinna think ye wanted to go for that ride," O'Dell explained as she scrambled to her feet and offered a hand up to the sapphire-skinned sprite. "But it looks like our one witness joost got 'cleaned oop'. D'ye think this is what the Syndicate meant by 'eliminating the evidence afterward'?"
Scrunching her face slightly, Gavarus looked at the spot where the Nausiccan had just been. "Wait? You think he got beamed to... nowhere? Pattern dropped, mid beam? That means we got nothing to show security."
"Just get off me, please- your foot's on my hand!" Thex winced as she stood up. "Did someone see what happened to his padd?"
"Shit! Sorry, chief." Gavarus said, stepping back. "Padd? Shit, yeah. Right. Uh... I think... hold on." Briaar knelt down, looking under the stalls.
"Yeah. Slid under here when Fee tackled you offa that ass. Here it is." The towering Tellarite said as she handed the padd to Thex.
"Alreet, so there's gangsters... well, killers fer hire, guess that makes 'em assassins... dressed like mobsters... in the hotel because there's an Andorian media heiress and her daughter here, who they've come to kill the both of them. So me first question is, cuo bono? Who profits? If somebody wants these two blue babes in Vegas dead, why? Who benefits? Is it a revenge thing from a business rival or someone else who stands to inherit?" Pausing to look at the other two, who were both looking at her with surprised incredulity, O'Dell shrugged broadly.
"What? Bein' a test pilot is like bein a detective. Ye got to figure oot what's goin wrong, why, and how ye kin compensate til ye can git 'er repaired or redesigned. These women are in trouble, and if we want innyone to take us seriously and help, we need to know what's goin' on and figger oot how ta fix it, aye?" The picayune pilot peered at the pair of them, pleading.
Giving her pint-sized partner a knowing smirk of appreciation, Briar started thinking. The two, after all, stayed assigned together in the R&D department for good reasons, not the least of which being that they were good at solving problems together. She stroked her slightly stubbly chin for a moment while Thex looked over the PaDD. After a second of thinking about what Fiona had said, the portly porcine pointed her chubby finger. "Okay... we should be able to figure out who the media heiress is easy enough. We can just patch into the security net with any old PaDD and a little decrypting if we have to. That's no biggie. And from there if we... wait."
Snapping her thick, three fingers, Gavarus looked excited. "Assface said he HAD to wear a suit like ours. I bet that's how the bad guys identified themselves. Like... like one of those old holovid crime stories where the crew is assembled without ever having met or something. Sooooo, we know how to spot the other baddies. They'll be... well... they'll be dressed like us!"
“Well, that does give us a wee advantage, now dunnit?” O’Dell replied, straightening her tie. “Because if they don’t know one another, that means we can pass as one’a them. Which we could use… alreet, that’s as far as I got with it. But seems there’s some advantage, aye?”
A grin did form over Thex face as a plan did start to form in her head. " We do have another advantage. If the thug thinks I look like Vlidal Nog maybe the rest of them would. If they think they're getting some spoiled Andorian rich kid and not an Andorian with access to an indestructible it would be one hell of a shock for them."
"So, we can pretend to be bringing you in?" Gavarus asked, working the details out in her head. "And what about the PaDD? And useful data? Drop off info or anything?"
"Give me a second." Thex said. It was harder to hack this thing without her tools and programs, but she almost had it... " Ah, there we go. Wait this guy's password was 'password'? Who hired these guys?" She said bewildered at the thug's lack of security. " Now let's see. Only a few things on her. Geez, that is creepy... she does look like me." Thex said, turning the padd so they could see. The image could have been of Thex, only with considerably more layers of makeup. "Now let's see. Ah, take the package to room 606 for delivery. "
“Alreet… so we have a location, and we have a plot, so now, to make alla this work, we need less of a plan, and more of a… scheme, really,” O’Dell observed wringing her hands like a criminal mastermind. “So with that in mind…”
The unlikely duo walked into the classy upscale lounge, casing the joint like they owned it. Dark suits and dark sunglasses made the odd couple blend in, for a change, as they entered the sumptuous lounge. A maitre'd approached, fawning obsequiously.
"Welcome to the Petrossian, sentients. Would you care to indulge in a splendid evening with live music from the one-of-a-kind Steinway grand," the slender humanoid with the pencil mustache indicated the soft tones of the pianist on duty. "Or relax on one of the velvet couches that overlook the casino? They seem to be quite popular this evening," As the host gestured, the couches overlooking the casino floors were indeed crowded with drinking and smoking humanoids of varying races, sizes, and persuasions, all with one commonality- a penchant for binary fashion.
"As you can see," the maitre'D continued, "the elegant Petrossian gently sets the mood for sophisticated tastes and discerning palates. There is so much to experience at Petrossian Lounge: the house-made infused cocktails, the vodka samplers, premium cigars, smoked salmon and caviar. An epicurean's delight, we think you'll find the Petrossian Bar is the ultimate respite for enjoying the finer things in life." At that, the Maitre'D paused, eyeing the midget and the giant pig in suits.
"What would be your pleasure?"
Five minutes later, a cigar in one hand, a tray of salmon and caviar arriving at the table, Gavarus and O'Dell were just finishing their first infused cocktail.
"Damn, I could get used to this shit." Trying to cross her leg, failing and then trying again, Briaar grabbed the hem of her pant leg and yanked her hoof up over a knee. All the while, keeping as straight a face as was possible, the portly porcine took a sip of her cocktail and used the action to cover her mouth slightly as she spoke. "SOOO... you think someone's gonna come t' us or do we gotta brag about having the 'heiress'?"
“I’m thinkin a wee bit o’braggin is in order,” O’Dell muttered, counting on her porcine partner’s sensitive hearing to pick up on what she was saying, and her familiarity with Fiona’s brogue to understand what she was saying as she muttered. “These are hard men… and women… and we’ve nae reputation amongst this crowd. So the idea is, we need to choose the right mark- big enough to be useful, dumb enough to fall fer our bullshite, and talkative enough to tell us what we want to know without getting too suspicious…. Howboot that ape at the bar?”
Glancing over, there was indeed a gorilla- a white-furred gorilla, no less, with a pair of horns protruding from it’s head and forehead, dressed in an ill-fitting black suit, with tufts of fur sticking out of its collar, sleeves and pants cuffs. He was standing at the bar, and seemed already to be three sheets to the wind.
Letting out a long, deep sign, Gavarus looked over the top of her black shades at the white-furred simian at the bar. "Is that a... the hell? In a thousand lifetimes, I never thought I'd see a frickin' Mugato in a suit." The tubby Tellarite muttered as she shook her head lightly.
"Okay. L... l... let's twist this." Gavarus said, working up her courage, while still letting out a stutter as she hoisted herself off of her chair.
“Aye!” Hopping nimbly out of her chair, the short stunt pilot made her way to the bar, stepping back for passing traffic of more black-suited aliens, this time a rough-looking Romulan and a surprisingly aged Klingon with a mane of kinky white hair that was sparse, yet pulled into a braided ponytail. Letting them pass, the picayune pilot scrambled up onto the barstool next to the big ape in a suit, noting his drink choice and settling in beside him>
That was when the white-furred and horned ape noticed her, doing a double-take at the midget in a suit. Looking at his drink, then back to O’Dell, the gorilla’s eyes widened. “R’yew a figment ‘a my imagination?”
Looking up at the Mugatu with a fearlessness born of a few drams of alcohol in her system, Fiona O’Dell eyed the massive mammal. “O’course not. Have ye nivvir heard’a the Midget and the Pig?”
Looking over Fiona, then realizing Gavarus was behind her, the big blue eyes of the fabled horned gorilla widened. “Ah, sure, sure, yeah, I heard’a ya. You two did the Karrg job, right?”
Having no idea what a 'Karrg job' was, Gavarus improvised on the spot, taking a long drag of her cigar and hoping she wouldn't hack up a lung trying to look cool and desperately trying to not stutter. "M... Maybe we did... *kaff* Maybe we didn't. We do all kinds of jobs, but we pride ourselves on our... professionalism."
Leaning over the bar a little too casually, her elbow slipping slightly as she put her weight on it, Gavarus held up two fingers to the bartender and gave a knowing head nod before turning back to the massive Mugato. "Jobs like tonight's, right... uh... Midge?"
Before the diminutive daredevil could reply, the big ape was already on a roll. “Yeah! This is some scrogged up feces, this job. What, like a hundred of us all here? And for what, one little-“ he paused, not drunk enough to realize the volume of his voice, as he lowered it to a conspiratorial whisper. “One Andorian broad and her daughter? These stupid suits, and that whole ‘report it to the room when you have confirmation’. It’s crap! I dunno who’s paying for this circus, but with all this competition in the field, none of us are gonna get paid, y’know?”
As the big ape took another sip of his drink, Fiona took her gamble. “Look, Mu- can Ah call ye Mu?”
“Call me Pancracio,” the big ape muttered.
“Pancracio, sure. So… what if we was to tell ye that we’ve an in on this already, and we’ve half the job done. But with alla this competition aboot, s’a bit hard to get a ‘package’ to Room 606, ye catch me drift?” O’Dell signaled the bartender to pour the big ape another drink, and made it a double as he downed the contents of his current cocktail. “After all, she’s the muscle, but there’s a lotta muscle about, y’ken?”
As the bartender delivered Briaar's refreshed double drink, she slammed it back hard to take the edge off and hopefully drown her stutter with another dose of liquid courage. And it seemed to be having the desired effect as she felt herself get just a bit looser in her skin that was starting to feel a size too small. Leaning over the top of Fiona, the tipsy Tellarite lowered her sunglasses slightly and smirked a slightly toothy grin that showed off her mostly filed down tusks. "An' some'a this muscle might try squeezing in where it ain't wanted. But... for someone who's smart enough t' make friends, there's enough to go around."
Taking another swig, Gavarus let her implication hopefully sink in to the Mugato's thick cranium. But as she looked back over, the white ape was staring at her as if she had spoken in Vulcan to him, so she doubled down. "Do... uh... do you know anyone here that's... smart? Someone who'd like to make some latinum?"
"Hey, I'm smart." The Mugato exclaimed with a smile that proved that he was anything but. "What kinda latinum are we talkin' about?"
"The way we see it, this job is offering a lot when most of the work is gonna be in getting what we already have in the bag to where it's gotta go." Gavarus said in a conspiratorial whisper, hoping she wasn't screwing the plan up too badly. "And most of these idiots in here will try to nose in trying to get a bigger piece of the pie for themselves. But that's shit math. An' see, they... uh... they call me the ENGINEER, 'cuz I know math. And we both know how to work the angles. We get someone who can help us get to room 606. Help deal with the other muscle in our way, and that person has made two very generous friends."
The portly porcine was flying blind, saying the words before she knew she had thought them out, and swallowed as she realized just how closely the slightly leering Mugato was listening. Pursing her lips slightly, she kept going. "You... want to be our friend, don't you Pan... cake... io?"
Immediately, the Mugato's slightly lustful expression shifted to one of confusion as he irritatedly corrected Gavarus' flub over his name. "It's PanCRACio!"
Swallowing her suddenly dry throat, Briaar leaned in slightly and course-corrected as quickly as she could. "Yeah, I... I know. But pancakes are... tastier. And we work hard, and hard work makes a piggy hungry." Glancing down, there was a bit of panic in her eyes as she shot a glance to Fiona that said 'HELP!'
"Look, mate... I toldye, she's the muscle," O'Dell parked his freshly delivered drink to the big hairy ape, motioning to the bartender, "Oi, a round 'a bitters, aye? Thanks luv. Anyhow, look- ye get the gist, aye? We're smart and we're good, but wi' only two of us, we might make it oop there, but likely we'd have DNA evidence left, and I heard ye get more for alive than dead, aye?"
"I didn't hear anything about that. I thought it was just a pair of hits," the gorilla grumbled, as O'Dell shrugged.
"Talk to yuir agent, m'friend. Cheers!" Raising her martini glass, O'Dell saluted the Mugatu, then made as if to down her drink, which the white ape and the space swine both followed suit, downing their drinks. Fiona faked hers- downing an entire one of these was liable to put her in a coma, and she's need her buzzed wits about her to stay on course in these murky waters. "Either way, that's our plan, and our dilemma. Ye think ye might cut in for 30%?"
"Thirty-three- equal shares, and the spare share I'll cede to ye, assumin yuir as good as ye look and we succeed, aye?" the three beers arrived, and O'Dell hoisted hers. "Have we a deal, ye great hairy bastard?"
"Oh, I'm BETTER then I look, Midget. And when we're done, maybe I'll get a chance to show your muscle there just how good." Pancracio grinned and waggled his thick brow over to Gavarus who had to pretend to not be throwing up in her mouth just a little at the thought of the implication. Then the white-furred hit-monkey got serious and looked down at O'Dell with a pout. "It's a deal. What's th' plan?"
“Oh, yuir g’win ta LOVE this plan…” the Mariposian midget replied with a wide grin.
To Be Continued...