SIM:David Cody SIMs The FreeZone Incident

((FreeZone Spaceport, Declan's, Alpha Quadrant, Stardate 237902.10 ))

A somber mood swept through Declan's, a small drinking establishment in the trader ring section of the spaceport. A clean-shaven, sharp and more sleek David Cody in a black jumpsuit with broken in, faded black boots and sporting a dark grey duster jacket sat at the bar nursing a particularly foul brandy.

The control collar around his neck simply faded into the clothes, which made it easier to hide it (otherwise some of his quarry would scamper the moment they saw it). He contained his disgust with the excuse of a moonshine that was passing itself off as a brandy (not even out here could they get away with using the term "cognac").

A much taller, extremely thin Terran woman, barely a Size 1 with long back hair past her shoulders to her mid-back knocked back her shot and slammed it back on the counter. A long, thin face held a pair of green-yellow eyes that were more off-kilter than Deborra's. At her waist, two blaster holsters, a set of throwing knives, and a honest-to-Gods short mace hung off her belt.

There was no better protectorate out this way than Delia. She was the kind of independent sovereignty you wanted on your side. Which was why FreeZone was not considered a space station under either the Federation, the Ferengi, the Klingons, or any other potential power. Rumors placed her somewhere in her mid thirties, but she could pass for mid twenties. A mean, vicious, and intelligently cunning woman from an unknown origin who had shown up on FreeZone one day back twelve to fifteen years ago and, depending on what rumor you believed, either piled up a lot of dead bodies... or booted the station's former masters off and proclaimed FreeZone an an autonomous sovereignty of its own.

And ran the place ever since.

Cody: This is horrid.

Delia: ::a crude smile:: We've got a local setting up shop with his own still. Trust me, it's a better batch than last week's.

David tossed the rest of his and fought the burning sensation down his throat, rasping a cough.

Cody: If this damn collar doesn't kill me, that will.

Delia: Who is it this time?

David pulled a small rectangular padd from an inside jacket pocket and handed it over. Delia took it and thumbed up a profile of a mottled pig-like face with a snout, tusks jutting up from the lower lip and a pair of beady red eyes.

Delia: Ah, Gparfeigel. What did he steal this time?

Cody: ::motioning the bartender over:: A rare precious stone the size of a pigeon egg out of the Helios Corporation, with enough karats to shun a diamond. And since Helios is considered a contractor for the Ferengar Government...

Delia: He stole from the Ferengi Government... ::shaking her head:: Balls.

The bartender, a mean-looking butterball with a bald head and glowing red eyes, approached them with a bottle. David zeroed on the small-sized, single shot phaser in his hand hiding behind the bottle--

--but Delia was already moving. She slammed David against the table, who found himself spinning, howling as he held his bleeding head as a single red phaser blast shot out. He hit the floor on his ass, blood dripping into his eyes, and blinked hard at the massive headache pounding to be let out. He glared up at Delia, holding one of her smoking blasteres.

Cody: What the hell was that for?

Delia: ::snapping back:: Protection!