Retail Therapy Part 1

Posted on Thu Jan 23rd, 2025 @ 8:59am by Lieutenant Dashku Zhevou & Lieutenant T'Mara
Edited on on Tue Jan 28th, 2025 @ 9:02am

4,459 words; about a 22 minute read

Mission: Year One: Strange Bedfellows
Location: Orion Ship - Stalker
Timeline: MD 008 - 1655 hours

T’Mara zipped up her dark colored field jacket and placed her commbadge above her left breast. It didn’t matter what clothing she had on, the golden delta was a magnet that proclaimed “Starfleet.” So here she was, preparing to go out amongst the 'natives.'

Upon hearing that the crew of the Moore were being allowed the ability to visit the Orion ship, she knew she wanted to explore. Was it safe, was it prudent? Absolutely not. However, it was an opportunity for exploration, even if only on a personal level, and possibly she might be able to find some items to put on the damnable wall in her office which mocked her in its emptiness.

T’Mara could have inquired if one of the officers she had met would have found it favorable to join her, but after what had occurred in the DMZ, she felt it prudent to simply go by herself. She was feeling rather reckless. Who would she disappoint? The captain? The crew? They were practically strangers, and she, likewise. She was cognizant of the oaths sworn, and would abide by them, yet was it not a mandate of Starfleet to seek out? Well, that’s just what she was doing…at least that’s what she was telling herself.

Throwing a small satchel over her shoulder that held some credits and some tools of her trade, T’Mara left her quarters – her destination was one of the transporter rooms. She had logged her ‘itinerary’ as it were, so the ship would know where their CMO had gone, but this was her first willing foray into the unknown. It felt somewhat…exhilarating.

Stepping up onto the platform, she gripped the strap of her satchel and nodded once to the technician on duty and felt the strange feeling that preceded teleportation. The golden sparkles formed in the corner of her eyes and grew until all was shimmering light…Then the process repeated but in reverse. The golden sparkles abated, and she found herself in a most unexpected place…the transporter room of an Orion starship. Thankfully, she remembered to take an additional dose of her nasal numbing agent. Even with the dullness of her olfactory senses, T’Mara still could smell the potent pheromones of those aboard this vessel. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations indeed.

Stepping off the platform, T’Mara approached an Orion who was leaning against the framing of the doorway leading out of the transporter room. “I was informed there would be opportunities to engage in commerce here. Have I been correctly briefed?”

Rushgili Zhevou had been assigned the glorious task of greeting any of the crew that came over to the Stalker for the next several hours. She was in her full uniform, a black shirt tucked over a gold neck collar. She had a set of gold segmented pauldrons on her shoulders that were connected by a chain in the front and the back. Black uniform pants, black boots and a black shirt with a gold symbol over her chest. Around her waist was a black leather belt with her side arm on the right and a black hilted sword on the other. He hair was braded and wrapped up around the back of her head in a bun with what looked like two chopsticks.

She wasn't sure what to expect, but considering how Starfleet looked down on Orions, she figured most of the crew would stay away. What made her half smile to herself was how, despite looking down their nose at them, most members of Starfleet and the federation were easily manipulatable. She fully believed Orions were a superior species.

She was picking at her nails with one of her small throwing knives as she heard the transporter activate. Internally she signed, as she watched a rather shapely Vulcan appear on the pad alone. She'd been hoping for someone a little more brawny.

"In commerce?" Rushgili laughed softly, before she tucked the throwing knife away to it's hidden sheath. "A vulcan? What in the galaxy could a bunch of pleasure seeking Orions offer to one so enlightened?"

"You are...mistaken. I am no enlightened being. Just an individual with a curious nature who desires further understanding of the greater world in which we all inhabit." T'Mara reached up and gripped at the satchel at her shoulder to give her hands something to do. She might be curious, yes, but she also recognized that she had taken a rather unorthodox leap into the unknown. All she had now was the 'trust' that been set by those in charge of things that she would remain safe while on her sojourn.

"I am looking for...Objet D'art? Holoprograms, holonovels...perhaps items that might be deemed contraband according to Starfleet policies such as...Romulan Ale? The humans have a saying that fortune favors the prepared." T'Mara outlined some of the basic things that she was looking for. What exactly did Orions sell? How does an Orion ship operate? Did they act similarly to Dashku Zhevou or was there more heterogeneity in their personalities and behaviors? There were a number of other answers she was looking for that would come through experience.

Rushgili arched one of her brows, she was a little surprised at the request. The vulcan was a might bit more interesting than she first judged. A light smirk crossed her lips as she motioned for her to follow, "I understand. We do have a deck that is dedicated to our clients needs and wants. I can take you down there to look over everything. I'll have to get you a list of holoprograms and arrange a proper data card. I'm sure I can figure out a form of compensation before handing it over."

"An entire deck? Does your ship engage with...numerous clientele? I..." Her voice trailed off. "Compensation? I have credits. I am not looking for anything particularly...valuable." The Orion woman was speaking rather ambiguously. T'Mara did not like ambiguity.

"We are a ship of commerce, we regularly engage in shipping but it isn't the only way we make money. Half the deck is guest quarters for anyone that books passage with us. The other half has a couple of shops, a restaurant much like your DMZ, and... well I make my money as a member of this ship's crew, others of my species prefer to do their work while on their backs. We normally have a lot of passengers or travel with other ships," Rushgili smirked slightly, she had a feeling that once word got out that was part of the Stalker's compliment they'd see more crew come over. "And while we've arranged to take your credits, the holoprograms might be a little more of a lift. I would be doing it personally and would need something in exchange."

"On...on their backs?" T'Mara furiously worked at what exactly that meant. It did not take very long once she factored in Orion sensuality and stereotypes. "Ah. Yes. Well." She made a small, mildly uncomfortable sound before continuing. "What would you require to...lift holoprograms?"

"Tell your crew, the courtesans could use the work and we enjoy showing our hospitality," Rushgili got a thrill out of making the Vulcan uncomfortable. "I don't suppose I could convince you to leave Starfleet and become my personal... servant for a year?" She paused just long enough to let it hang in the air, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Maybe a full holoscan of you for our own holodecks."

"They are not 'my' crew, however I will convey what you have told me." T'Mara tilted her head to the side considering everything the Orion had just told her. Was this really the way of things? Were the Orions simply honest about it all and at least tried to capitalize on the uncomfortable truth? This was a most disquieting line of thought. Forcibly curbing the thoughts for now, she returned to her focus on the present. "A full holoscan? For what exactly?" She looked down at herself with a lifted brow. There was nothing about her particularly appealing, at least in T'Mara's estimation...

Rushgili chuckled softly, she glanced over at the Vulcan for a second, before the two of them arrived at the lift. She called it before she decided to answer her. "For whatever I want," Rush replied simply. "You might end up being a random Vulcan NPC in a program I run or the main event in an Orion orgy. I wouldn't give away or sell it, it would be for my own entertainment."

"For your own entertainment. Of course." T'Mara could only imagine what might happen...and in a strange moment of inspiration the thought one of her former family seeing a simulacrum of her in some sort of taboo scenario did fill her with a sense of...satisfaction. Pettiness was not a Vulcan trait. However, as she had been repeatedly told of her less-ness after finding out that she was a lowly half-breed, perhaps it was a Romulan one?

"It would depend on the quality and quantity of holoprograms offered...?" She raised a brow in question...T'Mara did not even know who this Orion officer was.

"Of course," Rushgili waved one of her hands as the lift arrived. She stepped inside and motioned for the Vulcan to follow her. Once they were inside she called to the computer to take them to the pleasure deck.

"I will get you a list of what I can offer, even load some of the programs for you to take a look at. Once you agree, I'll have you disrobe so that I may too inspect the quality of what I'm getting, then scan you. I'm surprised a Vulcan would be interested in such things. I find that very fascinating."

The details of the arrangement apparently were already changing, and no deal had been struck. Now there was an inspection required? "Either my physical form is adequate to your purposes or they are not. I do not see how an...inspection would be necessary or value-added to this arrangement. Why does that surprise you, exactly? I find the complex subject of 'love' which is intimately paired with innate biological drives to be a fascinating subject for study."

"Oh you won't find any love on this ship," Rushgili laughed at that. "Sex, pleasure, plenty of things to scratch any itches you might have but love? Not here. And don't I have the opportunity to ensure you are adequate for my purposes? Does that make you uncomfortable?"

T'Mara blinked. Was it really the purpose of so many species? To pursue sexual gratification? Surak stated that wide experience increases wisdom, provided the experience is not sought purely for the stimulation of sensation. Which viewpoint was correct?

"Unfortunate. It is such an alien concept to observe. I find it...fascinating. You would have that opportunity during the holoscan. That was your proposal. I do not accept the ambiguity of your addition, and No. It does not make me uncomfortable."

That made the proposal a lot less fun and she couldn't help a bit of disappointment. When the lift stopped on the pleasure deck and the doors opened Rushgili led the way out. "Very well, your terms are accepted." She lead the Vulcan to an intersecting corridor. The door to their left was closed but the door to the right was open. "If you want a room you would go left, go right and you'll head into a small open area where the restaurant and two shops are. Past that is the brothel. I can continue with you or leave you to your own if you prefer. If you continue on your own, you can ask for Rushgili Zhevou when you're finished, I'm the chief of security. I'll come collect you, we can make our trade and you can return to your ship."

"Rushgili Zhevou..." T'Mara parroted as she studied the Orion woman a little more closely. Ah. She could see the resemblance. Well, that certainly made things interesting. "I am T'Mara, chief medical officer. If it is not taking away from your duties, you may accompany me if you wish. I am also amenable to renegotiation of terms if you can ensure fair exchange in the shops. I have a small...shelving problem."

"You want me to help you?" Rushgili laughed again, but started leading the way down towards the shops. Her orders were to help the crew that came over and show them hospitality. Her mother was actually trying to be diplomatic and it annoyed her. "Well, T'Mara, I will see to it you are not overcharged. At least not by the shop keepers."

At least not by the shop keepers? Well, less than ideal, but as T'Mara's intentions were to only obtain products from the shopkeepers--and possibly the holovid programs--she felt her odds were reasonable enough. It was a risk she would have to take if she had any possibility of satisfying her shopping list.

"You have my thanks." T'Mara responded amiably as she followed Rushgili down the corridor to the shops. Even with the nasal numbing agents the Orion pheromones were beginning to be perceptible to her olfactory senses. As surreptitiously as possible, she unzipped the collar of her field jacket. It was perceptibly warmer on this deck, apparently.

The 'shops' were a number of stalls, filled with smiling vendors. Ugh. Smiles...the showing of teeth. T'Mara did not see the appeal of the facial gesture. It read as predatorally aggressive to her, and set her on edge. However, that was forgotten when she noticed a delicately blown-glass vase, with flowing blues and greens sitting amongst a number of other similar--but not as interesting--objects. She gently picked it up to inspect it. The colors were most unusual given the tones she had surrounded by on a desert planet. Of course there would be no price.

"This would be acceptable. Do Orions drink tea, Rushgili Zhevou? If so, I would also like to see a tea set."

"Yes," Rushgili nodded, before she looked at one of the stalls. "Follow me."

She lead the Vulcan over to the other shop, there was a decently dressed Ferengi who was rummaging around in the back. When he noticed Rushgili he hurried over to the two women and his eyes lingered a little longer than they should have on the Vulcan. He finally gave them both a toothy grin.

"Ah my dear Rushgili," Drebac took one of her hands and kissed the back of it. "It is lovely to see you, even if you are clothed. Who is your friend? I do have a free copy of Oo-Mox for Fun and Profit if you're interested..."

"Knock it off Drebac," Rushgili barked at him. "She's looking for an Orion tea set, and likely a variety pack of Orion teas. What do you have?"

"I have several designs!" Drebac moved into his shop and lead them over to a couple of shelves with several designs and various styles of tea pots and cups. "Each of these were hand crafted by an Orion from nearly a century ago."

"And when were they copied and replicated?"

Drebac waved one of his hands and let out a grunt, "About a month ago, but they are exact replicas! Made from the finest Orion bone clay. I also have a variety pack of six different Orion teas, he motioned to the shelf next to it. Three of which are aphrodisiacs guaranteed to get you or your partner in the mood."

"The aphrodisiac tea is unnecessary." T'Mara responded in a slightly distracted tone as she looked at the tea sets. They were different from Vulcan forms, but not in a discordant manner. It would be...agreeable to have something to serve to guests, if any were to care to visit. Also, the set was rather colorful and would serve as an item of interest. Pointing to the once she found the most harmonious, she returned her attention to the Ferengi merchant. "Do you happen to carry intoxicants? Romulan ale or naraht, Orion delaq, or Andorian ale would be ideal. I have discovered such libations are useful in...negotiations." She asked the question as her hands quested to unzip the field jacket fully. Perhaps Orion pheromones went beyond scent...did they have neurotransmitter-like qualities? An interesting posit - one she would have to perform research on once returning the the Moore. Regardless, in the moment T'Mara was beginning to feel slightly...warm.

Drebac glanced at Rushgili and back at the Vulcan, he was quiet for a moment before he nodded. "I have Romulan Ale, Orion Delaq, Orion Rum, Orion Whiskey. A whole host of vintages and brands. It really depends on your tastes. Are you looking for something a more general audience would like or a gift for a specific person?"

"General audience would be acceptable. I have no preferences. Wait. I would prefer a high quality Romulan Ale if you are in possession of such a thing." If one was going to try something it might as well be worth the attempt.

"Your assistance has made this outing quite efficient, Rushgili Zhevou. I am willing to submit to your holoscan for our trade and then I must return to the Moore." Yes. The faster that happened the better. She only barely resisted the urge to remove the field coat completely.

"What's your hurry?" Rushgili asked playfully. How could she push this Vulcan? "I still am going to need to compile the library and take the scan. I could arrange some entertainment for you? I am a ranking officer and we do have several dancers on board, both male and female. Maybe show you boring Starfleet types how to be a little more hedonistic."

Drebac let out a big Ferengi laugh, before waving one of his hands, "I can have the bottles sent over to your ship along with a bill. Don't worry Rushgili, I will charge her a fair price. Rule fifty seven, Good customers are as rare as latinum—treasure them."

"Good boy," Rushgili reached over and ran one of her fingers along the outside of his left ear. "What do you say T'Mara?"

"Your offer has been acknowledged, however...it is unnecessary. I am Vulcan...It would be wasted." Her voice was not nearly as collected as she had hoped. A prickle of perspiration began to form along her spine. T'Mara was becoming mildly uncomfortable. Would it be wasted? Unacceptable. Do not even consider such a question. That was it. The jacket had to go.

Rushgili gave the Vulcan a knowing look, before smirking slightly. The way she'd fidgeted with her jacket, her flushed cheeks were more telling than she probably realized, "I thought even Vulcan's could appreciate art. While normally the dance is meant to entice, you can't tell me you wouldn't be at least someone intrigued by the art of it. Don't tell me a Vulcan is afraid..."

"I have not budgeted for such artistic expression, and I do not experience fear in the manner you trying to convey." Oh, but now she was curious Was it like in the holobooks T'Mara read? Argh. This was insidious. Wait...she was given permission to come here. Surely...surely there could be no lasting harm in experiencing something like this? Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Oh there would be no charge for this," Rushgili gave her a slightly predatory grin, before waving one of her hands. "This is part of the package, we actually want your crew to feel welcome on the Stalker. Don't worry, nothing will happen that you don't want. If you do not want to, you can wait in our cafe."

T'Mara would have wanted to look back on this moment with a sense of accomplishment that she resisted the increasingly tempting offer through her superior Vulcan discipline. She was not going to be able to however. "I should not..." But she couldn't think of a reason why exactly in that moment. "Very well. If this is how your culture expresses hospitality, I am willing to engage in this cultural exchange."

"Delightful," Rushgili reached over and brushed one of T'Mara's cheeks, before smirking at her. "Come with me and tell me, what sort of preferences do you have? Male? Female? Muscular? Athletic? I do have some options. I can also have our chef prepare something for you to eat or have something for you to drink."

T'Mara followed along like a uncoordinated puppy, knowing that somehow she was making an error, but not desiring to correct her course at the moment. "I...I do not have..." T'Mara furrowed her brows. Preferences? "Athletic, strong...I would not wish to injure...I mean." She dipped her head, cheeks flushing green. "Male. It would be acceptable to be seen as desirable." It was not a pleasant thing to admit, but considering the direction all of this was taking - demureness was not an appropriate approach.

"Your hospitality is acknowledged, Rushgili Zhevou."

"I'm glad it's acknowledged," Rushgili laughed at that before she glanced back at the Vulcan.

This almost felt too easy, but she wasn't going to stop simply because of that. She headed past the restaurant and through to the private Champaign rooms. She tapped in her personal code to open the room and lead T'Mara inside there were two leather pieces of furniture to the left, a red leather Chaise lounger and a sofa made of the same material. Between them was a coffee table and there was a large open area to the right. There was another entrance across the rooms where service staff could come in and out. She entered her code into a screen on the coffee table and ordered up two male dancers that fit what she believed T'Mara would like.

"You can order any food or drink from the station on the coffee table. I recommend some demma and a mandisa on the rocks to wash it down. Both are aphrodisiacs and will make your time far more... pleasant. The dancers will just dance or are willing to do far more if you're willing."

"I am uncertain if such items will react with my biology in a manner to engender such a response...but I will take your suggestion into consideration." Oh, who was she kidding, she'd order what was recommended. T'Mara walked hesitantly around the dimly lit space, taking a deep breath through her nose, but realizing that the nasal numbing agents were still working. Definitely more to the pheromones then than scent. She took a seat on the couch, laying her field jacket down in a somewhat fussy manner and looked over at the screen built into the coffee table. There were all sorts of food and drink available...most of it T'Mara had never heard of before.

She entered in an order for the demma and mandisa that Rush recommended. "Would...would you care for something?"

"No, while I've ordered you two of our more... exclusive dancers, I have my own stable that are mine and are well trained," Rushgili shrugged her shoulders and smirked at T'Mara. "I still have to get all of your holodeck programs together... Unless you're wanting me to stay. All you have to do is ask my dear sweet Vulcan."

Had T'Mara been in control of all of her faculties she might have been alarmed by what Rushgili said, but any such warning bells had been dulled to silence the longer she had been aboard Stalker. "Yes...my holodeck programs. I do not wish to keep you from your duties, or our arrangement. I was simply attempting..." What the hell exactly was she attempting - to engage with Dash's sister in a pleasure den on an Orion ship and she was so over her head ohsweetsurakthiswassuchabadidea...

She stood, swaying slightly. "My apologies. I should...go." Of course at that moment, music began to play - not loud enough to be uncomfortable, but it held a low, driving beat that could be felt as well as heard.

"You can if you like, I'm not trying to keep you here against your will," Rushgili replied gently, she didn't want to be seen as unreasonable in the least. "My current duty is to see to the enjoyment of those coming over from your ship. If you'd like to return I can escort you back to the transporter."

The rhythm was rather distracting, and she was really feeling quite warm. It was really a bit much. How was she going to get back onto the Moore in this state? There was a noticeable pause as T'Mara considered. "You have been quite transparent on that part, Rushgili...No. I do not wish to return to the ship. And I want you to stay. You have thus far shown yourself to be an adequate guide."

"Are you sure?" Rushgili asked with a playful smirk. She approached T'Mara and looked her over, as she considered her request. "If you're going to stay, you're too over dressed, we do tend to keep things a little warmer. And if you're going to spend time with me, we're going to need to order a lot more mandisa. I have a couple of good bottles in my quarters, maybe I should just take you up there..."

"I am...certain. Yes." Her eyes followed Rush's and she looked down at her blue under tunic and standard issue pants with a raised brow. Less clothes, more drinks, indeed? T'Mara did not know what to say to the last thing to come out of the Orion chief of security's mouth, so she chose to not comment on it at all. Rushgili was correct. It was warm...slowly, T'Mara reached up and unzipped the the collar and pulled off the offending top. The air on her bare skin was far superior than the scratchy fabric of the under tunic, anyway.

"Maybe you should." T'Mara countered, feeling rather unlike herself. Or maybe she did feel like herself. It didn't matter in the moment.

Rushgili watched her for a moment, was the Vulcan really looking for new experiences or was something else going on? Her sister was on the other ship, could she be behind this some how. Of course she was having far too much fun with this Vulcan, so inspite of her paranoia she headed over to the table where the screen was and canceled everything. She sauntered over to T'Mara and gave her a playful smile.

"Come with me," Rushgili said in a commanding tone.

To Be Continued...

 

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