SIM:Cogud/Nickels - Honor among Thieves pt 2
This sim is about Nickels, Cogud, Zug and Alibi finding out more about Rose and the Iotian Smuggling plot.
|Chief Tactical Officer
(( Near the Docks, Okmyx Chicago, Sigma Iotia II ))
- Having recently forged an alliance based on mutual profit and the necessity
of secrets, Lieutenants Nickels and Cogud of the USS Discovery-C left the seedy bar where their partnership had been forged, their sidekicks (Nickels' sarcastic and highly intelligent speaking bird Alibi, and Cogud's wily old Ferengi godfather Zug) in tow. Nickels pulled his porkpie hat low over his eyes and rested his hands in his pockets, fingering his various tools of the trade. Nickels was investigating a smuggling operation headed by his father, Joe Bananas Luciano - apparently Joe Bananas had gotten some violent offworlders involved in Chicago business, and Nickels was moving to shut the whole operation down before any more of his friends or family were killed. Cogud and Zug had agreed to help because of a sense of enlightened self-interest.
They were faced with quite a task - the warehouse district along the docks was a massive sprawl, and almost every warehouse, packing house, and icehouse on the tangle of Lake Efex's ancient docks was used for illicit purposes. Somewhere in there was Joe Bananas' operation, and the officers were determined to find it at all costs. ::
NICKELS: The way I figure it, we should split up.
COGUD: ::His eyes following the Iotian's:: Split up... well I don't quite know how to put this but, well this isn't exactly my...
NICKELS: ::holding up his hands:: Hear me out. I know this ain't exactly yer town, but this is a helluva job. The way I see it, we'll split things sidewise - Alibi c'n go wit' you an' tell ya what ta look for, an' Zug c'n go with me in case I accidentally walk by any pennies wit'out pickin' 'em up.
COGUD: Sounds like a plan, ::holding his arm out to Alibi:: after you.
- Alibi fluttered his two-meter wings and took off, flying ahead in a radiant
rush of gold and purple and blue, and led Cogud away to one of the larger warehouses in the district, leaving the witty Iotian security chief and the slow but steady Ferengi "dignitary"::
ZUG: So Mister Nickels, Joe Bananas, will we be meeting him?
- Nickels glanced at the Ferengi, nattily dressed and topping his bulbous head
with a straw boater, and grinned. His dark eyes sparkled under the brim of his hat. ::
NICKELS: I figured you'd want a chance ta jaw wit' the ol' gorilla. You've been in the game f'r a while now, ain't ya? I mean, almost every Ferengi plays ont he wrong side of the law, but you've been doin' it f'r ages.
ZUG: ::Looking smug:: Only about 30 years, nothing special.
NICKELS: Well, good. I need someone clever. You an' me, Zuggy, we're gonna go ta the office Joe used ta keep down at the Squidport an' see if we c'n reason wit' him. We'll see if we c'n get him ta shut this nonsense down before anyone else gets hurt.
ZUG: Sounds good to me.
- Nickels took his hand from his pocket, his tritanium knuckles wrapped around
his fist in a glittering frame, and smacked into his palm. His eyes were merciless. ::
NICKELS: If he doesn't wanna listen, I'll beat six kindsa holy hell outta him an' then shut the operation down for him. Alibi hates it when I get violent an' I don't want anyone from the Fleet - even a sly dog like Cogud - havin' ta see me punch my old man inta blood puddin'.
ZUG: ::Obviously lying:: Sometimes it is the best course, I remember when I had to persuade twenty angry Orions to buy one of my shipments, lets just say it wasn't pretty... for the Orions.
- Nickels grinned ferally, and slipped his metal knuckles back into his coat
NICKELS: I just bet ya have. C'mon, Zugsy. Let's go do some diplomacy.
(( Meanwhile ... ))
- Cogud and Alibi made their way through the rat's nest of buildings and piers
and gated areas, following the clee's unerring spatial memory, to the largest warehouse. Inside was a small water port leading out into Lake Efex. The stock room was one of the Luciano family's biggest and most successful - and thus the first place Alibi thought they should look. The place was bustling with activity, Iotian heavyweights lifting crates marked with Fargo Brothers Cigars trademark,the Trill and the Clee looked like quite a pair in the docks full of Iotians. Alibi landed on a crate and cocked his head curiously this way and that, then whistled softly and hopped along the crate, into an alcove among the boxes littered with sawdust and stubbed cigars. ::
COGUD: Do you think I should of covered my spots?
ALIBI: ::peering at Jorus with one golden eye and then the other:: Shouldn't make much difference. They'll know we aren't supposed to be here either way.
- the clee murmured, ruffling his feathers. Standing on a crate, the three-foot
avian came to just about eye level with the Trill helmsman:: My kind live in the greenbelt and you're from out of town.
COGUD: Well, could of been a precaution, so what exactly are we looking for?
ALIBI: Good question. No idea what's being moved. But there will be a lot of it, probably in - ::he whistled, thinking:: - two separately marked groups.
COGUD: ::Looking around at the many crates being lifted:: There is a lot of crates marked Moretti's Munitions.
ALIBI: Well, this is certainly enough volume - but the Fargo Brothers make the most popular cigar on Iotia and one of the most popular exports. You can even find these on DS stations. Joe Bananas - ::Alibi chirped in slight alarm, wondering what Nickels was up to going after his father with that wily old Ferengi:: - handles some of their export, but it would be a big risk.
COGUD: Well the only way to find out is to get a peek inside.
ALIBI: True. We'd have to check the boxes somehow, at least enough to read the markings. Or get a shipping manifest. Any ideas?
COGUD: ::Removing a hefty bag of coins from his pocket:: Well, lets pick out one of the Iotians lifting the stock and persuade them ::Cogud jingled the coins::
ALIBI: Might work. Money's a better universal translator than the universal translator.
COGUD: So, which one do we pick?
ALIBI: Whichever one looks poorest.
(( Meanwhile ... ))
- Nickels and Zug had made their way through the crowds - suspicious eyes
noting the spaceman in his tourist attire and the Iotian dressed for street fighting - with a minimum of fuss, and found themselves in an alley across the street from the Admiral's Calamari Icehouse, where the delicate meat of the delicious and highly deadly blue lake squid was stored for transport across Iotia. Above the icehouse was a well-appointed set of apartments, with a broad picture window and a narrow iron-railed balcony overlooking the lake. Nickels nodded towards the window. ::
NICKELS: Joe's office. I used ta stand on the balcony when I was a kid an' pretend I was Errol Flynn on the deck of the Arabella.
ZUG: Errol Flynn?
NICKELS: Nevermind. ::he shifted his neck side to side, making a quick crick-crack, and suddenly his lucky coin was walking across his fingers:: C'mon.
- They crossed the street, the Iotian toying with his lucky namesake nickel,
rolling it in hypnotizing tumbles over his fingers as he walked steadily across the street, Zug walking with that interesting combination of scampering and arrogance that Ferengi had mastered. ::
ZUG: So how do you plan to approach your father?
NICKELS: I've just this moment been struck with a friggin' great idea. I'm gonna tell him I brought ya in ta buy him out.
ZUG: He would give up the whole operation for money?
NICKELS: Sure he would. Joe Bananas is one money-hungry ape, an' even though he's stuck in the past he knows as well as anybody that Ferengi got money.
ZUG: OK what will I say?
NICKELS: Go with what ya know.
ZUG: Okay Mr Nickels, you introduce me to Joe Bananas, then I will take lead, you can stand and look pretty, maybe help by emphasizing certain points I will make.
NICKELS: I'll emphasize the holy hell outta him, all right. ::Nickels flexed a fist, cracking his knuckles:: So, ya wanna gimme a sneak preview for yer pitch?
ZUG: I am afraid I cannot prepare you for what I plan to say, I don't know myself yet.
NICKELS: More an' more, I'm likin' this plan.
- Cogud and Alibi approached one of the smaller Iotians in the warehouse, he
still had muscles but he was by no means the biggest, he had slicked back black hair and had a cocktail stick between his teeth, he lacked a shirt - like most of the Iotians in the dock - leaving his fine toned torso on show, he had a tattoo of a rose on his left bicep. ::
COGUD: Excuse me.
- Zax Vinx had enough to worry about trying to get all these crates packed into
the cargo containers that Miss Rose had set aside. Fargo Brothers cigars were gonna be BIG hits this year - and the pay was good, about five times what the dock rats usually pulled. Of course, there were those creepy spacemen around, and word was out about the gang boys getting burned down, but that was the price you paid. Miss Rose had been real specific about getting this job done by today. She was already behind schedule, and her own goons weren't the kind you wanted to mess with. He craned his head around at the sudden voice, and turned to find some mook with polka dots on his skin and a damn clee from outta the jungles looking at him like vice cops running a skin bust. ::
ZAX: What d'ya wan'?
COGUD: Me and my associate here are from out of town and we would, like to get a look in one of the Fargo Brothers crates.
ZAX: No, these crates ain't fer public viewin'. What're ya doin' here anyway? The docks ain't fer tourists an' ... friggin' wildlife.
ALIBI: Rude, sir.
ZAX: ::raising his eyebrows:: One of the talkin' ones, huh? ::he glanced appraisingly at Cogud:: You must have money, Spots.
ALIBI: He does. And he's willing to share the wealth if you let us get a look at those crates.
- There was a wheedling, greasy chuckle and the slithering hissing sound that
was unfamiliar to Alibi, but brought the immediate attention of both Zax and Cogud - the sound of an energy whip igniting. A Ferengi, resplendent in a shimmering three-piece suit of garish cloth-of-gold, had come around a stack of crates to face the trio, and his energy whip sparked along the warehouse floor.
MO: Bothering that busy fellow won't be necessary, gentlemen. I'm sure I can answer ALL your questions.
Thanks to Nickels for most of the quality of this sim