All Ears

Posted on Mon Aug 31st, 2026 @ 8:06pm by Vareth t'Lien & Centurion Valdus tr'Raedhoel

2,100 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Chapter IX: Shady Business
Location: Haven Colony
Timeline: 2387-10-18

Vareth stared at the dart board on the wall of what passed for the local tavern at the moment - a corner of the market area on the main floor of the Forum - or more accurately, glared, then stalked over and yanked her knife out it, where she had earlier pined a crude drawing of Brox, their investment broker at the Bank of Ferenginar. She shoved it back into concealment with more force than was necessary, then plucked the drawing of Brox off the board, crumpled it up, and threw it into the trash, turning on one heel and walking away with a sigh. She had intended to go back to the house after that, and give her husband a break from it being his turn to mind Ariah that afternoon - toddlers were a lot - but spotted a familiar face seated at the outskirts of the area on a crate that was currently in use as one of the chairs, and instead grabbed a glass of ale from the barkeep and made her way over to sit down on an empty crate nearby.

"The replicator does not do a good job with this stuff." Vareth took a sip of her glass and glanced in mild annoyance at the cup after swallowing, but it was sub-par, not disgusting, so she took a second sip regardless. "I don't suppose your wife would be able to help the engineers adjust the formula..."

Valdus puffed a wry laugh. "Believe me, I've asked. But she maintains that there is only so much that be done for replicated ale and refuses to sully her reputation by having her name associated with whatever inferior approximation of true ale could be coaxed from one."

"The food isn't great, either; but I think there's probably more hope there - several people have already volunteered to work on improving the recipes in that case. Probably because they would like their children to actually be willing to eat whatever comes out of them without glaring at the plate the entire time." She knocked back another sip of the...beverage. "I'd forgotten what incredibly picky eaters toddlers can be, or how erratic their appetite is. I remain thoroughly confused by the fact that there are or were people like my cousin and his wife who quite deliberately are or were raising toddlers at my age. I was more your son's age when I had Kaiae; and not much older when I had her brothers, with the energy of youth, if not exactly any more patience than now."

"I was lucky to have students I could task with chasing toddlers." The older man took a swig of 'ale' and smirked. "Told them if they couldn't keep up with a couple toddlers they'd never last in a fight."

"In a fight, at least, you are allowed to lop the head off of or snap the neck of your opponent. With a toddler, the best you can do is hope that at least part of your living space, and the child themselves, are both still in one piece when their temper finishes flaring. We lost a fair number of nice things to Kaiae when she was young; though by the time her brothers were born we had gotten smarter and bought nothing breakable until the youngest turned five or so." Vareth laughed softly to match the wry humor in her voice at this last recounting.

Valdus nodded. "Ei, though there was nothing ours couldn't break. Hatham in particular was a walking engine of destruction." A slightly proud smile crossed his face. "Of course, that's served him and everyone else well, now that he's grown enough to harness it."

"Indeed; the issue is not with the talent itself; merely the lack of control of proper target selection at that age. Though I was never anything better than average in most of those skills myself, unfortunately." That she was - or had once been - at least adequate in that regard was self-evident, really; in that she had both survived past her seventh birthday, and had managed to attain passing marks in her war college days in the required forms and skills. "Not exactly the sort of thing there is much demand for use of in my prior line of work, often. I'd say the last actual fight I got into was about six years ago when I helped throw a drunk man out of a branch of the bank, but he was drunk enough calling it a 'fight' would be overly generous; he didn't manage to land a hit on anyone before we simply got him by the tunic collar and tossed him outside."

City folk problems... He didn't say it. Vareth was crossing metaphorical blades with Ferengi to keep the colony running, and Elements knew he could not do that and also keep himself from ripping ears off. "It's not the sort of combat you've had need to keep sharp in. Though that may be changing. You're young enough and fit, so you will be part of the militia."

"Naturally. Though, it has already changed, beyond that even. I have not had small children to defend in decades, and did not think I would until whenever Kaiae had them. But I now do, and I am rather further out of practice than I would like to be given that."

If this last had a bit of embarrassment to it, that was likely to be expected - it wasn't uncommon for a city civilian, who had only ever done a minimum term of service and who was now a middle-aged adult, entering their second century with their children grown, to have let their skills slip, especially if the person in question did not have the sort of placement in life, in importance or connections or activities alike, to think they were that likely to get into a duel or run into an assassin or the like. But neither was it exactly approved of, for all its commonality; if nothing else than because traditionally, if a planet was invaded, being able to count on its population to fight alongside any available troops went without saying. Though it was more of a concern on more outlying worlds than any of the core worlds or the homeworld where Vareth had lived...but this was an outlying world, now; as outlying as it got.

"You aren't the only one," Valdus assured her, though not without a suppressed sigh. He was going to have his work cut out for him getting a militia into anything resembling what it should be. "I'll be refreshing a lot of city workers and farmers. But if you're concerned about having the skills to defend the children in your care..." and who wouldn't be with a potential Tal'Shiar foisted on them by Starfleet, "...I can offer some private sessions. Might be a good idea anyway. Our leaders should look prepared to fight, as an example to others."

“Thank you. Though, if anyone wants to see me fight; I’m fairly certain I could still muster the skills to beat our broker to death with his own ears, and would be happy to do so.” she muttered, then sighed. “I may have inadvertently taught Ariah several new expletives the other day during my last call with him…”

"I'd have wound up teaching more and much worse," Valdus laughed. "And we'll get you back up to being able to beat more than weaselly Ferengi to death with their own ears."

"There are only two things saving that man at the moment; one is distance. The other - " here, Vareth's expression changed to one of both extreme distaste and exasperation " - is the fact that I'm pretty sure if I did, under Ferengi law the consequences would include forfeiting to his kin some amount that just conveniently happens to equal whatever is in our accounts at the time." Which we cannot afford to lose, she thought; but it didn't bear saying, anyone with two brain cells to rub together could discern that.

Valdus nodded. He understood the frustration. "The Ferengi bank was the only option when the funds had to be transferred and held in secret. Are there no other ...more reputable... banks that could be used now?"

“In banking, the problem is that ‘reputable’ ones tend to follow a variety of rules that make it risky for us to place our funds there. As long as the Federation, for example, wishes to maintain even tense and tangential relations with whatever is left of the Empire; it is too much a risk they could freeze our account to try placing the funds in one of their institutions. More so considering their origin.” ‘Origin’ in this case being a fairly polite and round-about way of referencing that she’d originally acquired the money by embezzling it from her former employer; she was fairly certain they would never discover that given the records had gone up with the homeworld, but still, it was a risk. “There are a variety of options available in Orion space, but when compared to the Ferengi that one falls under ‘less’ reputable banks, not ‘more’. Most single-system governments and their associated institutions are risky, too; because it’s all your hlai in one pen; and if anything goes wrong on that planet you are screwed. Though, considering the situation I do wonder if it might not be worth it to still explore if we could get permission to hold the funds in a bank on Cera.”

"It could be worth a query," he suggested. "As at the moment all our hlai are in one Fereng-run pen, which strikes me as not without risk. Our only protection is that they have some interest in their reputation, but if they think we can't say anything to harm it, how much risk is that?"

“That point is…not without merit.” Vareth took another swig of the proto-ale in her now half-empty cup. “The more institutions you place your resources in, the more accounts or brokers you have to pay fees to, of course. But it certainly bears exploring; especially once we hopefully have new funds, however little, coming in once more now, which could help cover the extra fees.”

Valdus frowned. He hadn't considered fees. But then banking wasn't his area of expertise. Whatever he'd learned of investing had come late in life. "You know best in these things." He swallowed from the ale. "I suppose mercenaries must have systems that work, so it makes sense to use theirs."

“I am far from an expert when it comes to how mercenaries make their systems work; as I had never associated with any until recently. That said, I have been reviewing the records left by Raven’s former financier, a Ferengi named Gedak who predeceased her, for ideas.” She let the surprise show on her face. “I admit I have come to respect him, so far, in a sense - he appears to have been a savvy, cutthroat accountant. One of the strategies I am considering after reviewing his records is the possibility of holding funds in physical currency - gold pressed latinum is a galactic standard and one he tended to use; but there are also other options from high-value goods that can be quickly converted to difficult-to-replicate gems and minerals. While these methods take more time to convert to liquid assets in an emergency - or in the case of the latinum, require physical transfer for use - they have the advantage of requiring no ongoing broker fees or such, generally.”

There were certainly other issues with respect to guarding physical currency, but the idea of tangible assets held where they couldn't simply be seized by some banker's or bureaucrat's fiat appealed to the Weapons Master. "We'd have to work out a secure place to hold them, but as emergency back-up, it's good to have an extra weapon hidden within reach, as it were."

"Draw up some ideas for crating such a place, when you get the chance." Maybe an offshoot of those bunkers, if we could get a good deal on a vault door, she thought. "Because if it's possible to set up a viable alternative to Brox - and the ridiculous fees he charges - I am, pun intended, all ears."

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