The Domino Principal

 Episode Name:  The Domino Principal

   Written By:  Fortunae

         Cast:  Domino, Fortunae, Heller, Randal and Solok.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Fortunae

     Aired On:  Tue Jul 29 00:08:33 2003

     Stardate:  53394.7

Time: Mon Jul 28 20:23:15 2003

Stardate: 53394.3

Stardate 53394.3, July 28th 1376 2026 hours, the quarters of Diplomatic Attache for the United Nausicaan Alliance, Marcus Heller. Heller lounges in his quarters in bachelor bliss, unaware that his evening and his very life is about to take another strange twist involving the mysterious woman he met on Occa named Domino...

Heller, in all his blissful simplicity, is presently enmeshed in the textual material on a PADD. Happening upon a particularly amusing passage, he emits a gleeful chuckle, murmurs some punchline or other, sighs, and continues his mirthful diversion. It just so happens that the phonograph in the corner is in that mellow aspect of Wagner's famed "Flight of the Valkyries".

The door chime sounds from the direction of Out.

As the music starts to pick up tempo and volume, Heller reluctantly tears his attention from the PADD, and glances up, towards the chiming door.

Heller says into Out comm, "Yo."

From Out's comm, Randal says "May I come in, Mr. Heller? It's Randal Thorne."

Heller rolls his eyes just so, with a sardonic grin that speaks of something other than love and respect, but manages, miraculously, to remain charming and gallant.

Heller says into Out comm, "Certainement. Certainly. Come in."

Randal comes in from the corridor.

Randal has arrived.

Solok comes in from the corridor.

Solok has arrived.

Heller stands, and discards the PADD he'd been holding into a soft, out of the way, lump of clothing. "Mr. Randal Thorne." He looks at Solok. "And associate?" A lone eyebrow ascends, a fitting partner to his shiny smile.

Solok follows in on Randal's heels, using the opening of the door as an excuse to avoid having to do his own set of chiming. "No", he answers quickly, "And Solok. Which means you haven't done your homework. Which means you aren't the person who sent the message. What is going on here?"

Randal, for his part, puts on a show of casual disinterest. "Different summons, same reason. Presumably," he comments. He glances over at Solok at his question, then has himself a glance around the room.

Heller eyes Solok, affably-baffled, slides a look to Randal, arcs the eyebrow a bit higher, then looks back at the Ferengi. He gets a sort of a clueless shine to his eyes. "This isn't a social visit?" From the corner, Wagner's 'Valkyries' are ascending nicely.

Solok just chuckles slightly, saying, "I imagine that all will become clear in time. You mind if I use your replicator to get a drink?" And he heads over in that direction to do just that, adding, "Don't worry. Nothing that'll bankrupt you."

Randal crosses his arms. "Don't the fool with me, Heller. I don't play games where certain topics are involved. I came here for answers, and I expect to leave with some." That sounded vaguely like a threat. But only vaguely.

Heller waves his hand absently after Solok, granting the request by rote. "Help yourself." He doesn't seem overly concerned to have strange people speaking in vague threats in the privacy of his quarters, but then, he just gave free reign over his replicator to a thirsty Ferengi. So, perhaps it is not bravado that lights this man's flame, but rather a lack of sense of the common variety. Randal gets, again, the affably clueless grin. "You guys are the one's who came _here_. And you did say that you were summoned. I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, so it sounds to me like... you may have the wrong quarters. I appreciate the visit though, these quarters can get so dreary and lonesome." A slight, manly sigh.

Solok orders himself a Slug-O-Cola, and then proceeds to lean up against the wall to drink the thing. "Well, at any rate, here we are. But there's really a simple enough way to figure out if we're in the right place. Who're you?"

Randal peers at Heller for a long, quiet moment. "Alright. Fine. Either you're telling the truth and you're in the dark about this, or your playing some sort of game with us, in which case I'll just have to play along. For now. But I'm not known for being a patient man, Heller." He glances around. "Incidentally, your place is a dump."

And then, as if on cue, a vast improvement to the dump that is Chez Heller arrives through the door in the form of a strikingly beautiful "human" female who enters without chiming first and says after unconsciously striking a pose, "Hey Tiger, miss me?"

Heller's eyes slide over to Solok. "Marcus Heller, Ambassadorial Aide to Nausicaa, former Federation citizen, lover of fine women and wines, etc. etc. Mr. Thorne, I'm hurt." In fact, his hands go to his chest in a gesture of nearly sincere dejection. Then, grinning, he motions towards a single couch. "Well, as long as we're staying, perhaps you two can sit and we can... do something fun." He pulls up a deck of cards, a classic Orion nudie deck (of Terran publication, no doubt), smiling brightly. "Pinocle?" Then, just as quickly, the cards fall to the ground, and Heller is left, for the first time, sincerely dumb-founded, and gaping. "...Cupcake?"

Solok pans his gaze over towards the woman entering. And then down, and then back up again. After a moment he says, "I think she means me." To back up this absolutely unjustified and completely bizarre pronouncement, he offers, "I've got the pointiest teeth, see."

Randal, who has also been giving the new arrival a look-over, jabs his elbow into Solok. "I don't think so, Solok. Unfortunately, I don't think she means me, either." After the faint look of disappointment, his eyebrows lift. "Greetings. Your name wouldn't happen to start with the letter 'D', would it?" He asks of the woman.

Domino says, "I do so like words that start with D, Delicious, Delightful, Desireable, and yes my name does start with D -- Domino is the name, Randy... which is a delightful name in itself, though I don't know if it's truth in advertising... and happy to see you as well Toymaker. But..." She begins as she saunters toward Heller with a specific rolling of her hips and twist of the shoulders to highlight her well shaped bosum as she closes the distance. "... Tiger in this case would be Marcus..." she continues extending a perfectly manicured nail at the end of an elegant long finger to drag up Marcus's chest and along the side of his neck toward his jawline. "... if you gentlemen don't mind a slight delay in getting down to business, I have some business to settle with this tall drink of water." She rises up on her tip toes, lips parting slightly, eyes half-lidding as if she's about to kiss him as her other hand circles around behind his shoulders to his neck...

...and then abrupt snatches his hair and yanks his head back while the nail extends to press against the soft flesh between the air and his carotid artery and she hisses through her perfectly white teeth -- "Where is my money!"

Heller, obediantly enthralled, even up to the moment of dire climax, trembles like a bad, bad dog. "Tenderflake, mistress, my little jumja stick. You... uh... didn't get my message?" His pallor may be insipid, but his winning smile is in full, desperate, force. "I have the money, of course. Just no way to get it to you, I swear. On my mother's grave."

Domino says, "The wonderful thing about swearing on graves, darling, is that it solves the problem of where to stash the body where the Inspectors won't look when the oath is not kept." She takes her hand back from it's threatening position and lightly pats Heller's cheek, releasing his hair and stroking that back of his head affectionately as she sinks back to her own height. "I did get your message Tiger, I just didn't get my money and I get very touchy about such things after so much time, after all, you work for a government and everybody knows you can't trust politicians to keep promises, particularly about money." She sighs artfully, "May I have a drink please, something preferably non-poisonous." The eyelash flutter that follows is something that should be in a text book. "If you have such things in stock, of course."

Solok notes as an aside to Randal, "Isn't his mother's he should be worrying about." He finishes up the last of his cola before tossing the bottle into the reclimator. "At any rate, I'd love to be an accessory to murder and all, but can we skip that part and get to the profit?"

A smirk spreads across Randal's face, and he glances sidelong at Solok. "Oh, wait, maybe I was wrong. She does seem like your kind of woman, Toymaker." There's a playful sort of emphasis on that last word, and absolutely no concern to the predicament Heller may be in anywhere in his tone. Glancing back to watch Domino again, he mutters, "Then again, I haven't entirely discounted her as my kind of woman." The threatening, posturing sort of attitude seems to have departed, for the momoment.

Heller's relief at being released is broken only by a quick, sardonic glance at Randal, the kind of glance that says, 'No chance, fly-boy, she's out of your league'. This glance is punctuated by a vague eyebrow wriggle, but that is also quickly done-away with. "Nectar for my sweet. Of course." He gingerly escapes, maintaining a smidge of dignity, as he orders the replicator to create, for his rabid darling, a glass of orange juice. "Vitamin C." He delivers it, and casually maintains his distance. "So. Uh. What's up?"

"Thank you," Domino says with cultured dignity that seems light years from the direct threat of only moments before. "I shall be delighted to explain it all, while I do be a dear and see about getting me some confirmation my money has been put into an Yridian escrow account immediately would you? The number you will find for desposit is on your terminal already, after the deposit it will immediately shift, so, no need to get any ideas." She smiles sweetly, she sips daintily, she even pats her lips after sipping and tries to not wrinkle her nose at the mess about Heller's pad. "First though, gentlemen I thank you both for coming, and I apologize for any vaguely threatening undertone to my messages. A girl in this life must take extra precautions when dealing with more experienced men of hte galaxy like yourselves. Should we talk about profit to come first, or your other... concerns first?"

Solok says, "Actually, let's talk about my standard blackmail fee. That's the extra two points you'll be giving me, and probably my friend here," gesturing towards Randal, "In apology for the none-too-vague threatening tone in your messages. This fee goes towards leading me to believe that I will not be required to hire a group of Nausicaans as a counterargument for your threats."

Randal sighs and steps forward, toward Domino. "Before we start talking money, what /I/ need is some verification that you have the information I want. I don't particularly care for the notion of being blackmailed if you can't make clear on your implied threat."

Domino smiling sweetly at Solok says, "A lovely Ferengi negotiating tactic, my response as a human is that I will be happy to offset your two point increase to cover your blackmailed fee, but I will then have to tip off interested parties offering a bounty about you to cover my additional losses in doing so, so it's entirely up to you." She looks back to Randal and then back to Solok. "This is far more hostile than it need be, you will recall the invitation and compliment came first, the vague threat came after if you were considering not attending anyway -- but I can only do one thing well at a time, negotiate or validate, you two work out which one you want to start with and then I'll begin, in the meantime I'll sip my juice."

Domino then extracts two small PADDS from her vest pockets with one hand while sipping the juice held in the other and tosses one toward Solok, another toward Randal.

Heller smiles warmly at Domino from his terminal, winking to destroy the tender effect, a practical gesture of masculinity, nothing more. "Let's talk about how much I adore you for making this _so_ easy for me..." Having logged in with a familiar ease and grace, and searches for the information. Neatly found, and quick as can be, Heller works the transaction and, for his trouble, between taps, he manages, "Computer, replicate me some Terran scotch. Black label." Enjoy life.

"Generally," Solok says in rather unamused tones, "When I get a message that vaguely approximates ''Do what I tell you or die'', I consider that a hostile action. Which means that I consider you to have initiated hostilities. I am a Ferengi, and so the mention of profit would have been sufficient to have me come, and much more amicably besides. In this instance, I also know people who could be persuaded to work, without pay, to resolve this little incident. May I suggest that the most effective course, at this point, is for you to somehow indicate to me that you suitably regret the surely inadvertent threatening tone you have adopted."

Randal catches the PADD and reads it over... and his eyes narrow. "I think, perhaps, you have in fact managed to validate and negotiate in one gesture, Domino." He quickly pockets the PADD, adding, "I'm in. Whatever it is. But this information had better be accurate when made whole, Domino. I'm not the kind of person you want to be taking lightly." He then smirks. "And for the record, my threats came after a compliment, too."

Heller's eyes roll vaguely, Solok receives a smirk for his operose ways, Randal, likewise. The terminal beeps, and the computer-voice intones in the usual manner. "Initiating transfer." Heller, sensing a brief respite, leaves the terminal briefly to retrieve his drink.

Domino smiles and nods to both of the gentlemen after they speak, and shoots an approving nod toward Heller as well as the computer chimes in. "Solok, you gifted and canny developer of fabulous toys, I in fact do apologize for any hostility in undertone or direct tone in my communication. You may take it as a compliment that I wanted you in on this job so much that my exuberance overrode my manners if you like. Though I certainly did not mean to imply that you would die, per se. I am quite certain you can make good on any threats you wish to make in return, though I will point out that in so doing a nice profit would be avoided." Looking back to Randal she says, "Your compliment and your secondary mention of threat is indeed noted." She flashes a smile, "As to the validity of my information, I can say that I purchased it in good faith, so if it's not valid, I will be happy to extract suitable revenge on the one who sold me false data along with you should such be the case. I try to be extremely accurate in all of my business dealings, it helps avoid unpleasantness later on." She finishes her juice and sets the glass down carefully. "All of the pre-game blustering now completed, shall we move to the actual business at hand?"

Heller returns, triumphant, to his terminal, drink in hand, and takes a lusty sip. Then he pauses. He eyes the PADDs. "What _is_ the business at hand?" Meanwhile, the computer chirps, "Transfer complete." Ding.

Solok just nods slightly to Domino, "Indeed. Let's proceed. Right now, I can forgive your initial clumsiness. Hopefully this next aspect will lead me to forget it entirely."

Randal merely shrugs, and says nothing more. Perhaps that's supposed to pass as agreement.

After artfully pursing her lips in a delicate and coy fashion, Dominio smiles with a saucy edge and says, "Splendid." She stands from her seat and gestures with an extending and wave of her hand, "The job is simply this. Sneak under an Occan Military base, disassemble two intact Dominion Cloning Vats and support stations, transfer them out through the secret access tunnel the Occans are not aware of, load them onto a ground transport and load them onto the Boneyard, which is my ship, and then transfer them to the U.N.A. government which has been seeking same and get paid a handsome sum for our skill and discretion. I know for a fact that they have been trying to figure out a way to get them off the planet without tipping off Starfleet and every other local power, including the Occans, and I know where the tanks are, and I have a ship and the necessary local knowledge of Occa to avoid complications, but I need people with technical skills to help and other specialized experience should something go wrong... and of course Heller here is their point of contact for all of this and will insure we get paid and not with disrupter fire. We're talking a five share split, one share for each of us and one to pay for my previously accrued expenses and ship logistical costs. If this job goes smoothly, I have a list of other... worthy ventures... we might embark on together. In the meantime, I'm even brining legitimate post-war salvaging contracts to the table and I have some people who I can use in the Occan government to get us sprung should the unfortunate happen and we get caught with our hands in the cookie jar. As good faith money, I am willing to front a cash advance of 5,000 credits to each of you from the payment I just got from the UNA for finding the cloning tanks in the first place with Tiger here. Let me clarify, we aren't working for the Nausicaan government, this is purely our own initiative, but it will behoove them to just pay us, if they don't want to... well, I already have four other potential buyers. That's the pitch in short, details follow if you are all the way in."

Randal considers Domino's words thoughtfully, tapping the fingers from one hand on his opposite arm. "And what do the Nausicaans want with Dominion cloning tanks, anyway?" His gaze in a smooth, liquid fashion from Domino to Heller. That's, apparantly, where he's expectant the answer to come from.

Domino says, "I have no idea beyond the liklihood of wanting to clone someone, perhaps their Vorta wants some insurance that he won't die from an accident. I generally try to avoid guessing the motives of governments, even the simplest of tools can be turned by them to a dangerous cause. I'm focusing on this: Everyone thinks the tanks are destroyed; if the Powers find out they are there they will likely try to destroy them and we don't get paid, if the Occans know they are there they will destroy them or perhaps they will fall into the hands of their facists, the Nausicaans already know they are there and will pay to get them without having to cause a diplomatic incident; it's likely the Nausicaans will cause a diplomatic incident to get them if they can't find another way so we don't have a large portion of time to wait and see. If we act directly, with care and confidence, we get paid. I want to get paid, so does everyone, it's just the type of payment that matters. You for example want information, information is for sale, if you have enough credits you can buy it. It's a need driven universe and credits grease the wheels of accomodation."

Heller's expression brightens. His eyebrow quirks at Domino's explanation. "Ah, right." He slides his glance casually to Randal and Solok, to catch their reactions. Randal's question brings a bit of amusement into his eyes, Domino gets the ingratiating grin. "And, hey, last time I was there, it was kind of fun."

Solok frowns slightly, noting, "Occans aren't fond of non-humans, are they? But I assume this is a matter you've already considered. Along with the problem that will arise should the Nausicaans decide to produce their own Jem'Hadar."

Randal frowns, glancing over at Solok. That hadn't occurred to him, apparantly. "That's... not a pleasant thought," he responds. Glancing over at Domino, he says, "I assume my reputation has proceeded me, yes? I've been known to turn down profitable ventures, if it violates my code of ethics."

Heller snorts and takes a sip of his drink, eyes rolling heavenward yet again.

Domino says, "Nausicaans manufacturing their own Jem'Hadar doesn't seem like a likely scenario to me, but even so, that's not really something I would worry about. Like I would assume you don't worry too much about what use a buyer might put a special weapon you make for them to. Business is business, and the job itself has it's own perks and thrills... it's a great score, should have no need for anyone to get hurt on either side, and probably will prevent larger diplomatic issues if done by professionals instead of a ham-handed Nausicaan boost team." She cocks her head and looks toward Thorne, "That isn't really the reputation you have cultivated... your reputation is more of one who finds a cause to cover your opportunism and then capitalizes on it, but you do generally choose a cause that is noble to cover for .. well... piracy, blockade running and the like. Of course, if you have an ethical problem with picking up some war salvage that almost nobody knows about, then I can understand you turning down the job. I would submit though that as the plan stands, we are talking about avoiding any casulties for anybody, and not even really stealing. If the Occans knew it was there, then maybe it would be stealing, but they don't, so it's more like relocating for a fee to a more advantageous position for interested parties."

Randal shrugs. "It's a little more complicated than that, Domino. But I will admit that many good causes require an influx of resources and some work outside the lines that others draw in the sand." He tilts his head. "I suppose the placement of cloning facilties puts the local population at risk, as you said." He grins. "And I suppose, in removing them, we might be upholding the Prime Directive. And is there a nobler cause for a Federation citizen to take up?"

Heller clears his throat, giving Randal a spurious glance and a brotherly smile. "That's the spirit." Looking back to Domino, he lifts his glass, and sips.

Domino smiles with a wry energy and nods, "A very reasonable perspective, Randy. Or do you prefer, The Dread Pirate Thorne?"

Randal chuckles. "Randy will do. Or Captain, if you like." He smirks a little bit.

Solok shrugs slightly, and says, "Profit can buy morality. It's all a question of margins. I think with the current margins, we're talking about this needing to become rather immoral before it starts to bother me. But it's always worthwhile to check."

Domino says, "Hmmm, Solok, I don't think I'm really following you here dear. What's the immoral part you are referring to? The avoiding any military complications by removing the items professionaly that the Occans have no formal claim on and selling them to the Nausicaans who are in fact it seems rather friendly with the people who actually made and have first claim on the tanks in question. For all we know they plan on using them for quick production organ replacement facility at their new hospital complex that I hear is being made in their capital. Getting them first puts us into a better position to ask what they want them for, and if we really don't like the answer, perhaps another buyer will have a more satisfying answer. I don't really care, as long as the job has style, I don't have to hurt people except in self-defense, and there is a sweet payday at the end. I'm not a thug, really."

"No, I don't think you are following me here." Solok smiles brightly, continuing, "What I was saying is that there's lots of money, so I don't actually care. Can we get on with things, or must we continue arguing philosophy?"

Domino says, "Oh, okay then."

Randal nods in agreement. He wanders over to the couch and sits down on it, apparantly tired of standing.

Domino says, "Okay... then if we are agreed to be in business, I will transfer your advance pay we should leave for Occa within the next few days. Captain, I have all the updated system and system defense data you will need to help us plot a course in and out to avoid all the recent traffic, Tiger you should get the grease rolling with your employers to get our money lined up because we are expecting to get paid and I think Solok can help you with that. Solok, this is a subterranean tunnel situation, we need things to transfer the componants in from their place to the truck, I have schematics from tricorder scans of the passage system, and I already have almost everything in place on the Occa end. I can stop by your shop tomorrow as a customer and we can go over some details... I think that pretty much covers everything. This really should be an easy job, just technically difficult and interesting pressure in the backdrop, but the actual boosting, quite simple. So... everybody's in and we are partners?"

Heller finishes off his drink, and discards the glass into the recycler. He leans against the wall, and says, "Let me add this. The Nausicaans are a very simple people." He stalls his grin, momentarily. "I have worked for these people for over four years now, and I can see a change. They aren't villains. They are genuinely making an attempt to meet the criteria for Federation membership. The Nausicaan homeworld is in shambles. The people, though living in toxic waste, are finally united under one Warlord. It's time for a change." He looks at Solok. "I wouldn't expect you to understand that, Solok. But you." He looks at Randal. "You are familiar with Terran history, aren't you?" He gives Domino a wide grin, in response. "I'm in."

Randal nods once. "I'm in," he says simply. He glances toward Heller. "More or less. You can feel free to test that familiarity, if you like." He smirks.

Solok chuckles to himself, as he leans off of the wall, taking a couple of steps away. "I understand perfectly. But as I said, I don't actually care. I'm sure they're a wonderful people. I'm sure they have some magnificent works of art and literature. I'm sure they're working on a civilization that will extend its reach across the stars, and about whom people will sing the praises of throughout history. None of which is my concern. But I'm in."

Heller gives Randal a grin. "Maybe over drinks sometime."

Randal tilts his head. "Alright." Looking back toward Domino, he says, "Any idea what sort of space defenses we'll be looking at, currently?"

Domino moves toward Randal and takes his hand, "Saying, yes, I have it all on a PADD, don't worry, I got out I am sure you can get us back in, I just wanted a more experienced second opinion." She takes a few steps and then takes Solok's hand, carefully. She then puts her own hand out and gestures for them to place their hands upon her extended one, "Motive for going, all that aside, let's get in and get paid, and en-joy the ride." It seems like a "ritual" for her, but after it's done she says, "Tiger, walk me to my ship, I'll give you the PADDs for our partners, you drop them off to Solok as if you are being a customer, in an hour Randy can stop by and pretend he's shopping and pick up his PADD, all simple all without drawing undue attention. Okay, partners... let's go get paid!"