Tracking Party: Mermaids and Fairies

Posted on Thu Jul 15th, 2021 @ 4:38pm by Madison Indri
Edited on on Thu Jul 15th, 2021 @ 4:38pm

Mission: Elsewhere
Location: Freecloud
Timeline: 2396
Tags: Not added to tracker
2283 words - 4.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Dabo wasn’t exactly Calliope’s favorite game. It was very similar to slot machines really, just on a mutli-wheel form like a fancier roulette. She watched the knot of players place their bets, and the wheel went round and round, attended by a smart looking Orion fellow in the Monsoon Casino uniform. She caught the eye of the slick haired attendant for a moment and he waved her into the table.

“Place your bets, a new round is about to begin,” the young man announced.

Calliope joined the table, surveying the other players to see if the one she was particularly interested in would become either jumpy or reserved at her presence. The aquatic looking Daucinian didn’t flinch, so Calliope surmised the ‘mermaid’ had no idea who she was, let alone that she was with Starfleet. Calliope relaxed her posture to remind herself to take the starch out and look like she was on vacation like everyone else. “So sorry,” She said with a nibble on her bottom lip and a squinch of her face to express some regret. Even though she was set enough in the joint bank account with Quinn to well afford more than a little gambling, she hadn’t bought any chips on the way in, and now she didn’t want to let Miss Mermaid out of her sight. “I haven’t got any chips.”

A chiseled looking man with manicured hands spit an ice cube he’d been gnawing on back into his whiskey glass. Calliope guessed from his well tailored clothing, designer shoes, expensive cologne, and his almost movie star pasted on persona, that he probably benefited from a small army of dieticians, fitness trainers, assistants, fashion advisors, and consultants.

“We can rectify that.” With his left hand, he slid her a small tower of chips as if his magnanimous gesture was like writing a check to a charity case. Calliope observed his wedding band, likely pressed with high density latinum from the way the sheen had a semi-matte and slightly green hue to it.

As she accepted the chips, Calliope felt his eyes examining his chances with her as much as his chances with the wheel. “Thanks.” She said neutrally, as she felt the weight of the chips in her palm and finger shuffled them as she thought. “I’ll put half of these out on triangles. And this one,” Calliope held up a chip before clicking it down on the betting table. “On the galaxy.”

“I should inform you the odds on swirls are rather steep. That’s going right down the drain.”

“Oh I know.” She propped an elbow on the edge and rested her chin in her hand with some whimsy. “But I always bet one on the galaxy.”

While everyone else called their bets, he leaned in to the unusually spotted Orion lady with some curiosity. “Where are you visiting from? I’m sure I would remember you if you were a regular here.”

“I travel a lot, for work.”

“Really? What kind of business are you in?”

“Oh just in operations for a big old organization.” She said as if it were droll and rolled her eyes as she tilted a languid wrist side to side and back again. “Research this, requisition that, meet this supplier, present this plan, train these ones, interview that one... recover losses. Yourself?”

“I’m something of an investor.”

“Ah so you don’t just gamble for fun.” Calliope caught him chuckling at that. “Pick any winners lately?”

“In all honesty, more losers than winners, but it usually comes out in my favor on the balance sheet. You should come work for me. Sounds like you could use a change from the grind. And you won't find a better benefits package.”

Calliope didn't much like his drift, but she needed to stay at the table until she could make an opportunity to talk to the Daucinian. "Ah, thanks. But I've got some seniority built up and I'd hate to start at the bottom all over again. The devil you know and all that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Calliope noticed the Mermaid looking a little put out. Calliope suspected that her own arrival had redirected the attention of the investor, and something about the fashion and jewelry of the young lady told Calliope Miss Mermaid wasn’t rich, but she had the taste to be. That hungry ambition towards class was something which Calliope had become more sensitive to since marrying into money and seeing it from both sides: the jealousies and the disdain that came with money or lack— neither haves nor have nots were truly happy as long as they were obsessed about material wealth or status. Calliope tested out a smile in the Mermaid’s direction, and the Mermaid crossed her arms over her tiny little revealing shirt and glanced away, her nose upturned. So Messier’s “Brinn” was a gold digger. Something Calliope herself had been accused of more than once. While she was busy watching the Mermaid, the Dabo wheel was spun up.

Most of the table watched their chips collected by the house, only one Ferengi at the table got a payout and he, being shorter than average even for a Ferengi, was just barely tall enough to see over the table where his open arms gathered up his winnings and turned them right into another bet. Calliope wondered with some bemusement why the Mermaid hadn’t picked him. He seemed to know how to manage a streak.

“See? The galaxy almost never pays you back. Need a few more chips?” The Investor moved to slyly tuck one into the top of her sleeveless dress and Calliope deftly limboed backwards to catch it in her palm with the other chips instead.

Issuing him a warning stare, she deposited his remaining chips in his whiskey where they clinked sharply with his ice. “I’m good, thanks.”

When she looked back up she noticed the Mermaid Brinn wasn’t at the table anymore and Calliope barely caught sight of her retreating down one of the exit halls. Calliope didn’t bother with niceties and just left the Dabo table behind. Heels didn’t really slow her down appreciably; while obviously not preferable, Calliope had a fairly experienced running gait in spite of them.

She closed the distance as the mermaid crashed through a service door and started lighting a smoke. Calliope caught her eyes and saw the waves of disgust telegraphed from the sneer on her shimmery scaled face. “What do *you* want?”

“I just thought I recognized you. You were with a friend of mine, a few days ago.” Calliope produced the holo image of her with Crewman Messier.

The Mermaid finished lighting up and blew smoke through the hologram with a shrug before looking away like she couldn’t be bothered. “Your friend is a liar. I told him I was interested in fine art and he said he owned some gallery pieces. I took him to meet somebody else I knew in the art trade, thinking we might make some mutual friends. Next thing you know he’s a headcase, looking for a way off Daucina.”

“You traveled with him?” calliope pulled her jacket back around her more closely, warding off the wintery night air.

She blew another smoke trail and Calliope could see the story being spun behind her eyes. “I thought he needed me, he was pretty lost on his own.”

“I think my friend is in trouble. I think you know more about it than you’re letting on. Who was your art contact on Daucina?”

“I don’t like you.” She dropped her smoke and ground it with the toe of her knockoff brand replicated shoe. “You’re a snob and a tramp.”

Oh the irony. Calliope let it roll off. “But you want to tell me the rest.”

“Yeah? What gives you that idea?”

Calliope presented her badge. “Because this is a missing persons case, and I’m working with Starfleet and the Watchdogs and there's a cash reward for information leading to his safe return."

The Mermaid pursed her lips in consideration. Maybe she would find a way to make some money off of Messier after all. “How much does information about Curlycue go for?”

Pausing, Calliope did some quick math in her head on her expense account for this mission. Too much of it had been spent over the past week, but there was still some in the bucket; with some finesse, Calliope had ideas where to direct even more from. She took out a pen and motioned for the Mermaid to open her hand. Calliope wrote out the numbers in GPL.

The Mermaid looked thoughtful. It wasn’t as much as she would have liked, but it wasn’t something to sneeze at either. “I like your hover jewelry. It’s real fresh.”

“Thanks, my husband sent the set to me, from a technician-craftsman on Bolius.” Calliope waited patiently. “I’ll get you the catalog.”

She twisted her lips and looked at the amount written on her palm again. “I think I have a tip to report, Officer.”

“Let's start with your name and some ID.”

The Mermaid fished through her clutch. “You might not have much time to fill out paperwork, though. Curlycue met Hadley Graves by mistake. Walked right in on him in a meeting, if you know what I mean.”

“Hadley Graves? Of the Graves family the Daucinian authorities are watching?”

“Yeah. Guess he maybe saw something he shouldn’t have oughtta seen. I don’t even think Curlycue knows what it was. Hadley put out a hit on him. Curlycue had someone tell him to meet them out on Freecloud for protection, something about meeting them on a Ferry to Freedom in some underground escape to a new life. but I heard of another opportunity.”

“What opportunity was that?”

“Wexler‘s organization said they were interested in partnering with Curlycue and could protect him from Mr. Graves. I told them about Curly Cue’s Ferry idea and they said they would try to meet with him there.”

“Which Ferry, where?”

“Hells if I know.” She handed over her ID for Calliope to scan. “That’s connected to my accounts, you can move the GPL certs there directly.”

Someone else crashed through the back door into the alley and both women whipped around defensively.

“Good heavens.” Dr. Ryder exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Your husband?” The Mermaid supposed out loud.

“Oh, Good heavens no.” Calliope imitated the Doctor followed by an awkward laugh and they both appeared somewhat repulsed at the idea.

“I’ll be going, then.” The now-tipster looked at Calliope who watched a thin third eyelid flick over her expression. Calliope wasn’t really sure what that was supposed to convey, and the Mermaid smiled smugly at the Orion Officer’s confusion as she turned and strode the length of the alley way to the street beyond.

“Was that the lady from Daucina?”

“Yeah.” Calliope looked at the ID copy. “One Ms Chastity Brinn.”

A snort escaped from Doctor Ryder.

“We might not have long to get to him. Apart from that Orion that’s supposedly on his scent, who I have a strong suspicion might be a hired assassin, he’s supposed to get on a Ferry tonight to meet with some people from an underground and there's some people working for a 'Wexler' that are trailing him too.”

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“What, what, what?” She returned, motioning for the Doctor to spit it out.

“Did you say Ferry? As in a boat?”

“Uh, yeah, generally, Ferries are boats or vessels of some sort, you know,” Calliope couldn’t help an impatient, patronizing tone growing in her voice. “For crossing things like water or maybe a hover Ferry sort of thing, or a Ferry to and from a lunar colony. Or-”

“I know what a *Ferry* is.” The Doctor said with exasperation. “I was speaking with one of the employees at the exchange window and he said he overheard some hired security talking about an Ice Fairy. I was thinking Fairy, you know with little wings or what have you. But that made no sense. A Ferry ship makes much more sense.”

“Ice Ferry.” Calliope’s focus was broken by the twitter of her commbadge. “Commader Zahn here.”

“Hey Zahn, it’s Dea. The act just changed over. I’m outside transcribing my memory into the databank best as I can recreate it.”

The lounge singer… “You got something?”

“Yeah, it’s a weird Reman dialect for sure, but I parsed out some basic things tonight. There was a pattern of shapes and colors threaded in the lyrics. And three numbers. I think they probably amount to some kind of code, maybe to get to a safe house.”

“Send me what you have.”

“I’ll try. My memory is only so good.”

“Was there anything about ice or ferries?”

"Uh," Dea seemed a little thrown by that. “Fairies? like the little elf people?”

“No, like boats.”

“I’m not sure I know the word for ferry in any Reman sub dialects. There were several references to something like boats, though. I'll send you what I can remember.”

“Fair-*e*nough. Zahn out.”

Dr. Ryder groaned as Calliope dragged out the word play purposely to rub in his original misinterpretation. “Let's find Bear and Indigo. Hopefully it’s not too late to find the right Ice Ferry.”

"Maybe," Calliope said, "if we leave out a saucer of milk or a shoe or—"

"Shut up."

"Shut up, *Commander*."