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Damn it Feels Good To Be a Gangsta'.

A Real Gansta Type Player Plays His Cards Right.


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Respectable Joes. [Wobbletime, other side of the planet.]
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Lordy almighty, these crates were a lot easier to hoist in zero gravity.

Harry gripped the edges of one of the boxes, lifted with his lower back and shoulders, and slid it into place atop its brothers. His back gave out a right ridiculous twinge of protest which he answered with a flurry of language unbefitting a man of legitimate business. Magda shouted something smart at him and he rolled his eyes.

"Git' all this up and out of the bug, Benny'll git her up and workin' an' we can drop all this off at Joes."

It really didn't matter who he shouted that in front of. These docks weren't exactly known for their reputability. 'Sides, every other sidewindin' jackass this side of the third moon was busy running his own gigs.

Harry tromped back into the bay to get the second dolly and the personal affects boxes. Less worthwhile than the medical gear, but thrice as satisfying to rip off. Damn if that pool table didn't look nice in the corner.

Box of lamps, box of classic leatherbound books, box of...what in the sam hell?

"Well lookie here..." Harry proclaimed quietly and plucked a lacy black undergarment out from the space between the boxes. If that wasn't just a delicious looking piece of fabric, well he'd be hog tied. Withough pausing to think, Harry dropped the tidbit in his pocket and continued about his tasks.

"Ladies we don't want to be late, none, an' make a bad impression," Harry called into the ship.

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This was exciting!

Tex had stayed behind when most people left the Enterprise. It hadn't worried about environmental controls being on or off, and it had preferred to stay in the ventilation shafts that it was used to.

But it was while it was in one of those shafts that it had seen them. Stealing! Taking things that weren't theirs! And no one was there to catch them.

Except... Tex: Bra Detective.

So it waited until none of them were looking, and dropped into a box. And now it was in the man's pocket. All it had to do was wait, and listen, and keep on playing inanimate. Tex would bring these criminals to justice!

It suppressed a happy little shiver. No moving.

"Bad impression?" Magda repeated as she and Ruth carried out another of the boxes. Eve was up on the bridge, keeping an eye on the sensor sweeps. The last thing they needed was the Feds dropping in for a surprise visit.

"I wouldn't worry about the impression our lack of punctuality might make, if you're planning on wearing that to the meet-up," she continued as they slid the box into place. "Maybe after this job, you'll finally be able to buy a new shirt."

She exchanged a quick grin with Ruth before leaning over to drop a kiss on Harry's cheek, taking the sting out of the words.

"And just what's wrong with this shirt?" Harry asked as they sauntered back in. Confounded woman, he hoped she weren't wearing the paralytic lipstick. His cheek didn't feel numb.

"I'm more worried about the impression Joe's going to make on my face if we make him stand 'round waitin' on us," Harry called back and rolled his eyes. "How many more we got left to move?"

"It's ugly, fits poorly, and smells like a middle-aged Romulan Madame," Ruth said. "But it doesn't have any visible holes or stains, so I'm not sure why Magda is being so picky."

She kicked the boxes into a more securely-stacked arrangement. Daintily. "Two more, and that's it."

"It absolutely does not fit poorly," Harry argued back and nodded sagely as he surveyed the two dollies.

"Well, m'dears, I believe this is cause for celebration," Harry announced, cleverly changing the subject. "We put up with that tin can an' look at right fine the bounty we have recieved, courtesy of James T. Kirk."

"It fit fine three years ago, Harry," said Magda, shooting a look over to where he stood as she and Ruth rolled out the last boxes. Supervising, right.

"Thank you, Captain Kirk," she agreed as they rolled the dollies back up the ramp to the 'Bug. "And good riddance to you and your ship. They should offer complimentary dark glasses in their guest quarters, not travel bottles of synthehol."

Ruth tsked. "Magda, dearest, you wouldn't really want that. Free shades would have no style."

She drew her own pair - not complimentary - out of her handbag and slid them on. Then she tossed the bag back into the 'Bug. It was cuter than the proverbial button, and matched her shoes just so, but it was silly to tempt pickpockets. The young ones might not have the sense to see that she was out of their league. And she hated making children cry.

"Lead on, Madcuff," she said.

With the dollies loaded and Eve watching the ship, there was very little stopping Harry from doing just that. He did spare a moment to stare flatly at Ruthy, however, before activating the carts and starting off into the ridiculously bright, local sunshine.

"Hoooo-eeee, got to love a good old fashioned bright day," Harry proclaimed with a grin as he stepped out into the sweltering heat. Apparently it was summer in this hemisphere, that or this gorram planet was of tilt and falling into its sun.

Whichever.

Joe kept up a rather fancy little piece of land, couple of them, farish away from here. The digs they'd been directed to were...less prestigious but more aimed toward the...non-sequential latinum pieces crowd. Harry really did enjoy being part of that crowd.

"I can't wait to get a nice cold one," Harry continued conversationally. The sound of his own voice was just downright pleasent. What right did he have, keeping such a fine thing all to his lonesome?

Magda looked distrustfully up at the sky.

"Just as long as we're not out here too long," she said. "Lobster red and peeling is not the way I plan to catch the fellas' eyes."

She'd covered every bare inch in sun protectant, as usual, but somehow it never seemed to be enough. "Maybe next time, we can find a planet with some shade."

"Seconded," Ruth said, fanning herself. Where she'd picked up a vintage-style paper fan when she was wearing a dress with no (visible) pockets and had left her purse in the ship was... Well, not actually a mystery.

She edged a little closer to Harry, subtly. The area they were moving through was a little crowded, and not in a friendly sort of way. She and Magda could hold their own in a scuffle, but they certainly looked more vulnerable than their big, manly captain. And it was hard to do any own-holding when you were unconscious because the other side had taken you out first.

Not that Ruth would know anything about that.

"It's a shame it's so dreadful bright out," she said. "I saw some lovely, sandy beaches as we came in. But I don't think the sunlight would agree with all of us."

She and Eve could go swimming, though. That might be nice.

"Think positive, m'dears," Harry encouraged and shot a scowl at a vendor who was eying them a little too closely. Harry disliked flashing his pistols around, but it didn't mean he wasn't prepared to whip it out if someone forced him. Or looked at him funny. Or made a bet.

Or if it was just plain fun.

"What say we take a vacation on Noitocal 3 after this little endeavor?" Harry supplied as he directed the dollies down a shady looking alleyway toward their equally shady destination. "They have lovely beaches and luminescent water. Very chic. Just the place for classy individuals such as the likes of us."

Speaking of luminescent water... "Now just what in the sam'hell is that good fellow dealing in, I wonder?" Harry asked quietly and motioned, via a jerk of his head, toward an Andorian behind a beverage cart. At least, he thought it was a beverage cart. It was sandwiched between a guy selling Denebian slime devils and another fellow with large and precarious hats, so it was really rather up in the air. "I don't suppose you can dye Romulan ale quite so many colors."

Harry didn't have much time to suppose anything, however, as they arrived outside their unmarked and unwelcoming destination. He shrugged off his curiosity and rapped on the metal door a cheerful seven times in succession. Now all they had to do was wait for Joe's local associate to open up.

Edited at 2010-05-21 07:18 am (UTC)

They were talking a lot, but not saying what Tex needed to know. They had stolen things. They were going to sell them. They wanted to go to shady places and swim in luminescent water. But where were they?

Tex could not take them out by itself. It needed backup. And it was pretty sure that it could find a way to call for help, but not if it couldn't tell help where to find it.

Maybe someone would say something useful now that they had stopped?

Ruth was planning on going swimming without her again, Magda could tell. She pouted past the vendors and all the way to their destination.

"Noitocal 3 is nice," she said, as they waited for the door to open. "Beaches, water...wealthy singles..." She smiled in reminiscence. "Did I tell you about the time I almost landed a prince on Noitocal 3?"

"Much better than here," she continued, glancing around the junkyard that their contact apparently called home. "We could have at least stopped to see the capital before landing in this backwater."

The door opened and a very short Vulcan in a ridiculous hat beckoned them, with a single gesture, inside.

"You are tardy."

"Ah Sovar, as cheerful as always," Harry proclaimed brightly as he steered the dollies through the door. The girls went second and he followed last, tossing his controller onto the stacked boxes as he passed them.

"And I most certainly am not tardy, m'good Vulcan," Harry corrected, "I arrived precisely when I intended to."

"A reference to ancient Earth literature?"

The Vulcan, whose name was not Sovar, led the disreputable humans through the maze of merchandise clogging the main room of the warehouse.

"Joe will see you momentarily. He would offer refreshment; however, he has none he is willing to share."

"I'd offer thanks, but I'm afraid I'm fresh out," Harry answered and stared at the Vulcan for a moment. Vulcans, they just never knew when to leave, always hung around just long enough to make things awkward.

"That will be all, m'good Vulcan," Harry offered with a brief, dismissive, wave of his hand.

The Vulcan, who, in point of fact, was named Skylar (born on Earth of parents who were historians), blinked at Harry's hand. Surely the human was not actually propositioning him.

"Joe is also not willing to leave you alone with his goods. I will remain."

"Oh for the love of Pete," Harry muttered and rolled his eyes. Leave it to Joe to expect Harry to steal from him before making a deal?

Now after was another matter entirely, but Harry did have a few scant moral principles. It just wasn't good business to steal from your best buyer before he bought anything.

"Well fine then," Harry replied with a shrug. "I thought you said we were tardy? How come we're waitin out here?"

Skylar was spared an answer by the arrival of Joe. Joe in a slick suit, Joe in an historical suit, Joe who had a flare for the dramatic.

"You're out here because I was busy in there because I got started on something else because I waiting on you because you were late. Skylar, get me some water, get them some water, get yourself some water, I've got this now, I've got this."

Joe was... hyper.

"Good to see you too, Joe," Magda said. "We're only late because Harry here couldn't decide what to wear."

She grinned at him.

"How's business?"

Joe preened at her smile. He liked the attention of pretty ladies and Harry always did have the pretties ladies.

"Business is good, Magda, business is good. You know why business is good?"

She gave Joe her most innocent, questioning look.

"Why's that, Joe?"

"Because whatever you want, Joe's in the know. You know that?"

He sidled a little closer and Skylar all but rolled his eyes. Joe was not slick. He was, to use old-fashioned Standard figurative language, sleazy.

Harry didn't bother restraining the urge and rolled his eyes. Joe was not so good with the ladies, probably the reason he and Harry got on well. Or, rather, as well as can be expected.

"Well Joey, m'boy, if business is well, then I'd say it's right time we got to it?" Harry interrupted with a flourish of his hands. That he did not relish watching Magda work this fella over was merely a small factor in his desire to get to the point.

Joe glared.

"You show up late and then you want to rush me? What kind of treatment is this, Harry?"

"Oh Joey, don't be so sensitive," Harry replied with an easy smile. "I'm just eager to make you a richer man!"

True, it would make him richer in the process, but that didn't really need saying.

Joe beckoned for Skylar to open the door to his office.

"Then stop standing around yammering at me. Let's deal."

"A brilliant idea!" Harry congratulated dryly and followed Joe as the Vulcan opened the door. He clapped the Vulcan on the shoulder cheerfully as he passed into the office and immediately dropped himself into one of the overly nice, plush chairs opposite Joe's desk.

"So I've got more'n thrice my weight in various rare curios, medical supplies, and expensive doo-hickies," Harry announced, "And of course I come to you first Joey because I say, that is to say, I say to myself, I say:

"You know who will give me a good deal, my friend Joey, good ol' Joey," Harry continued yammering. "Why do you think I would say that, m'good business man--why because it's the honest truth! So let's talk business, how's the market of late?"

Edited at 2010-05-25 09:52 pm (UTC)

Magda and Ruth followed Harry into the office. Ruth took the seat next to Harry, and Magda wandered around the perimeter of the room, idly inspecting the various knickknacks and decorations adorning the walls. Worthless, mostly. Not that she'd lift anything anyway while Harry was working a deal.

Well. Not unless she found something really good that needed liberating.

She smiled sweetly at the Vulcan as she passed him. Skylar stared impassively back, completely unaffected. Vulcans. They always gave Magda the creeps.

Skylar was there to watch. Joe was a businessman and businessmen needed to keep an eye on their assets. Particularly with lightfingers like this bunch.

"Market is shit. The market is always shit."

This was more useful. One of the women had said one place they were not, and now Tex knew several names. Harry, Magda. Joe, Skylar. Maybe someone called Sovar, though Tex wasn't sure if that one was right. The one called Harry, the man in whose pocket it was riding, seemed to say lots of names that didn't belong to people all the time.

A few more details, now, and a chance to slip away...

That was a goddamned lie and Joe knew it.

"That's a goddamned lie and you know it, Joey," Harry announced cheerfully as he folded his legs. He just barely resisted the urge to put them up on Joe's desk. He honestly didn't fancy getting them broken by yon' Vulcan bodyguard feller.

"Market's always good when you have crates of top quality goods, particularly of the medical variety." Harry waggled his eyebrows. "Ain't heard of a place where people don't hurt one another from time to time and want to keep it secret, not even on New Vulcan."

(OOC: Oh you did NOT touch a box of Kirk's books!)

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