Strictly Business, naturally...

Posted on Tue Nov 3rd, 2026 @ 4:17pm by Vincent Holmes

3,035 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Mission 6 - Candy Leads to Cavities
Location: V. Holmes & Co Merchandise, Level 15, Faltan Station

The shop itself had a lot more heavy fabrics and stages than you’d expect in a workshop. But it was what Vincent Holmes had decided when he set up his little shop here. The front bit, the respectable bit, was going to be splendid. From Earth velvet cushioned sofas and ottomans, to stages with heavy curtains that could be pulled aside to reveal the merchandise, it had all been done with some panache in mind. If there was one thing that Vincent had learned in his short yet long life, it was half of everything was the presentation. If there was a market for something, products happened. And this was not just a shop, it was a showroom.

Although currently, Vincent was sitting in his workroom in the area behind the showroom, at his desk, leaning back slightly. He wore a suit jacket with a shirt underneath, sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms. His hair was carefully styled, the moustache neat and his brown eyes regarded the woman standing with her two…henchmen. “I am not entirely sure I am your man, Miss…?”

“Nareth,” the Cardassian woman said as she watched him, a small smile on her lips. “Mister Holmes, I have it on extremely good authority that you are our man,” she said lightly, glancing to the man on her left who had started to walk, looking around the workshop.

Vincent watched the man for a moment before looking back at Nareth, his expression thoughtful. “Well, that rather depends on what your people believe I can do for you, Miss Nareth. I have been credited with quite a few things over the years, some of them even true if you squint.” He smiled, leaning forward slightly to rest his forearms against the desk. “Although I am always delighted to hear what people have been saying about me. Particularly when it comes from people I have never met who clearly keep…wonderful company.”

Nareth studied him, her eyes moving briefly to the various pieces of equipment scattered around the room. There was little order to the workbenches, although the expensive tools and several half-assembled devices suggested that the chaos was perhaps deliberate. “Your reputation is quite extensive, Mister Holmes. You have supplied technology to the Federation, the Klingons, and even the Romulans. I understand you have also done business with the Cardassian government.”

“On several occasions,” Vincent agreed pleasantly with a small nod. “Lovely people, for the most part. Very particular about specifications, but I find that rather reassuring in a customer. Nothing worse than someone who doesn’t know what they want.” He glanced down at the PADD on his desk, tapping the screen to dismiss a notification. “Of course, I also have several private Cardassian clients, but I am sure you understand that I don’t discuss their business.”

“And yet you would happily sell to their enemies,” Nareth said softly and turned to face him, moving closer to him to sit on the desk. She wore her hair high, exposing her neck, but there was very little make-up on her. Yet Vincent could not look away from her eyes, drawn in by them for a moment.

He let out a breath and gave a small shrug. “Well, that rather depends on whether their enemies are paying customers. I am a businessman, Miss Nareth, not a politician. I find politics terribly complicated, particularly when everyone insists their particular grievances are the most important.” He shifted a little, moving his hands behind his head, half stretching. “Technology, on the other hand, is rather more straightforward.”

There was a faint metallic noise from the other side of the room, and Vincent glanced past her to where one of the Cardassians had stopped beside a workbench. The man was studying a small device, one that appeared to consist of several interconnected rings suspended within a transparent casing. “I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you,” Vincent said, his tone remaining pleasant. “It is rather sensitive.”

The Cardassian looked towards him but did not move away. Instead, he reached towards the casing, his fingers brushing against one of the metal supports. Vincent sighed, although it was more the sigh of someone whose patience had been mildly tested than a man facing any particular danger. “Ah. Well, I did warn you,” he said softly and moved his knee under the desk, nudging something fitted underneath it.

The workbench itself seemed to shake for a moment before anything metal nearby suddenly bolted towards it, including the metal in the cuff of the Cardassian’s clothes. Vincent bit his lip for a moment, almost innocently. “Apologies, it’s part of my anti-theft system…”

There was the familiar sound of a replicator activating, although it came from a unit mounted against the wall several feet behind the Cardassian. A small metallic object materialised in the air, no larger than a man’s thumb, hovering for the briefest moment before releasing a sharp blue discharge. The Cardassian jerked violently, his hand falling away from the workbench as his body stiffened. He collapsed onto the floor with a rather unpleasant thud.

“As…is that, to be fair,” Vincent said as he stood, raising his hands as the second Cardassian drew a hidden weapon. “I would advise against that,” he said, nodding towards the man’s hand. “The replicator has another three units prepared, and I really would prefer not to have to use them. I have only just had the floor polished and…well, it can have unpleasant side effects. Usually vacating of one’s…bowels.”

Nareth held up a hand, stopping her remaining companion. She looked towards the unconscious man before turning back to Vincent. “You have a rather unusual security system, Mister Holmes.”

“Thank you. I designed it myself.” Vincent looked pleased at the observation, as though she had complimented a piece of artwork. “All the tables can be magnetised easily, but that is nothing. Modified the replicator’s materialisation range, added a directional neural disruptor and removed some rather tedious safety restrictions. The positioning took a bit of work, but I think the results speak for themselves.” He glanced towards the fallen Cardassian. “He’ll be perfectly fine, incidentally. A headache, perhaps, but nothing permanent. Although I would suggest he leaves the equipment alone when he wakes up…and maybe changes his underwear, all depending.”

“And you have this installed throughout your establishment?” she asked with a small smile, still sitting at the edge of his desk and looking at him.

“Amongst other things,” Vincent said as he watched her for a moment, smoothing down the front of his jacket before walking towards a cabinet against the wall. “Now, I believe we were discussing business. Can I offer you a drink? I have a particularly good Cardassian spirit somewhere, although I must confess I’ve always found the taste a little medicinal.”

He opened the cabinet, revealing an assortment of bottles and glasses arranged with considerably more care than anything else in the workshop. Selecting a decanter containing a dark amber liquid, he poured himself a generous measure. He glanced towards Nareth, raising the decanter slightly in invitation.

“No, thank you,” she said softly, with a shake of her head.

“Suit yourself.” He replaced the stopper and took a sip, apparently satisfied with his choice. “So, Miss Nareth. What exactly is it that you require? I assume you didn’t come all this way to purchase a household replicator.”

Nareth watched him for another moment. If she was surprised by the situation, she did not show it. Instead she seemed to take it, and him, in her stride. “We require a method of disabling a starship without necessarily destroying it,” she said finally. “Something that can compromise its systems, preferably without triggering the usual defensive measures. We understand you have been working on something that might be suitable.”

Vincent looked at her, his interest piqued as he smiled. “Oh, that,” he said, almost fondly. “Yes, that’s rather interesting, actually. Quite an unexpected discovery. I hadn’t intended to develop anything of the sort.” He walked back towards his desk, placing his glass down before retrieving a small curved object from amongst several scattered components. It was silver, smooth and rather elegant, with a flexible section running along the inside. He turned it over in his hands, examining the casing before looking towards her. “Originally, this was intended to be an instant neck massager for long-haul space flights. You know how dreadful those journeys can be when you’re confined to a chair for hours on end. I was thinking of installing it in my yacht, actually, but obviously...” He paused, looking at the object thoughtfully. “Well, the original design turned out to have some rather more interesting applications.”

Nareth looked at the device. “A neck massager.”

“Yes. Quite a good one, too.” Vincent smiled, holding it out for her inspection. “The principle is relatively simple. Rather than relying on mechanical pressure, it uses a carefully calibrated resonance field to stimulate muscular tissue. Much more precise than those dreadful vibrating things people insist on selling. No moving parts, minimal power consumption, and it can be adjusted for different physiologies.”

He moved towards one of the workbenches, his drink temporarily forgotten. With a few taps on the controls, a holographic representation of a starship’s internal systems appeared above the surface. Vincent placed the device beside the projector, then enlarged a section of the ship’s computer network. “The interesting part came when I started experimenting with the frequency modulation. I discovered that certain adjustments had a rather peculiar effect on isolinear circuitry. Not immediately destructive, you understand. That would have been relatively easy, and frankly rather less interesting.”

He manipulated the display, causing several of the illuminated pathways to flicker. “The problem with conventional electromagnetic disruption is that it tends to be rather indiscriminate. It damages systems, interrupts power distribution, and generally makes an awful mess of everything. Very effective if all you want is to stop something working, but rather inconvenient if you have any intention of recovering the vessel afterwards.”

Nareth stepped closer, despite herself. “And your device?” she asked, leaning close enough for him to catch the scent of her hair.

“Doesn’t need to destroy the circuitry.” Vincent sounded positively delighted now. “It interferes with the way the isolinear chips store and transmit information. At sufficiently high power, the resonance introduces errors into the data structures themselves. Navigation, tactical systems, sensor interpretation, even the computer’s ability to recognise its own operating instructions. The hardware remains intact, but the information becomes increasingly unreliable.”

He adjusted the simulation again. Across the holographic starship, small sections of the computer network began changing from blue to amber, then red. The failures spread unevenly, moving through interconnected systems until large portions of the vessel’s internal network had become compromised. “Now, obviously, a little personal massager isn’t going to accomplish this across an entire starship,” he continued, reaching for another component. “You need a considerably stronger emitter and a means of directing the resonance. I’ve developed a compact unit that can be incorporated into a torpedo casing or a suitable proximity device. Once activated, it establishes the necessary field and begins disrupting the target’s isolinear network. The effect depends on the vessel’s architecture, naturally. Some systems are considerably more resilient than others.”

“And the crew?” Her voice was soft, almost tempting, and there was a small smile on her lips.

Vincent looked at her, briefly surprised by the question. “Should be perfectly fine. Unless, of course, their life support systems fail and they haven’t the sense to repair them. But the resonance itself is harmless to most humanoid physiologies. I did spend quite some time ensuring that.” He returned his attention to the projection. “I rather liked the idea of disabling a vessel without blowing great holes in it. Far more useful if you want to take possession of the thing afterwards. Can’t…swear it won’t harm things such as Changelings…”

Nareth examined the simulation, her expression carefully controlled. “And you are prepared to sell this technology?”

“Naturally.” Vincent deactivated the display and turned towards her, folding his arms loosely. “Although I should point out that you would be purchasing the emitter design, the necessary control software and a working prototype. Not the underlying resonance research. I have several other applications in mind, and I would rather not surrender the rights to my own invention.”

She moved closer to him, her hand touching his arm. “What guarantee do we have that you will not sell the same technology to the Federation?”

Vincent considered the question for a moment before reaching for his drink. “None, unless you pay for exclusivity,” he said and smiled, running his eyes over her. “Although I am sure we can come up with some sort of arrangement on…the price of exclusivity.”

Nareth’s expression hardened slightly. “You would sell a weapon capable of incapacitating Cardassian ships to our enemies?” she almost demanded.

“I would sell technology to a customer who has met the terms of our agreement,” Vincent corrected, still perfectly pleasant. “If you would like to prevent that from happening, I am quite prepared to negotiate an exclusivity clause. Six months, perhaps. A year, if the price is right. But I don’t make promises I have no intention of keeping, Miss Nareth, and I certainly don’t give away valuable commercial rights simply because someone has brought armed gentlemen into my workshop.” He glanced towards the unconscious Cardassian, who had begun to stir slightly, before turning back to her. “Besides, I would imagine your superiors are considerably more interested in whether the device works than in my personal political affiliations.”

“They are interested in both,” she said, taking a step back even as she watched him closely.

“Then I am afraid they may be disappointed on one count,” Vincent admitted with a small smile. “I have no particular desire to see the Federation destroyed, nor the Cardassian Union, for that matter. Both are excellent markets, and I have several very comfortable properties within their territories. I would find it terribly inconvenient if either ceased to exist…”

Nareth studied him for a long moment. “You seem remarkably unconcerned about how your inventions might be used. It’s…almost Ferengi.”

“Not entirely.” Vincent took another sip of his drink. “But for the most part, once the deal is done it is none of my concern what it is used for. It’s fine having principles, but you don’t climb up in this universe without getting a bit dirty on the way. So who am I to judge?”

She watched him for a long moment before she nodded. “A profiteer then,” she said with light distaste.

“No, just an inventor who is currently…extremely rich,” he said with a grin. “And who happens to also have some nice rooms here, if you’d like to have dinner later?”

“No,” she said firmly, watching him. “I’ll pass. Just name your price, Mr Holmes.”

Vincent returned to his desk and retrieved a PADD, making several adjustments before handing it to her. “Now, these are my proposed terms. The first figure covers the prototype, design specifications and technical support. The second includes twelve months of exclusivity within Cardassian territory and your immediate operational interests. Forty per cent in advance, the remainder on delivery and satisfactory demonstration.”

Nareth looked down at the figures, her eyebrows rising. “That is an extraordinary amount of money.”

“It is an extraordinary piece of technology.” He walked to pour himself another drink, smiling as he turned around to meet her eyes. “Dinner invite still stands.”

“All this…for something you developed from a neck massager,” she said, but gave a nod to her awake associate to help his colleague up.

Vincent laughed softly, apparently finding the objection rather amusing. “My dear Miss Nareth, you aren’t paying for what it was. You’re paying for what it can do. The development history is of very little consequence to the end product, although I must confess I find it rather entertaining myself.”

She studied the PADD again, scrolling through the specifications. “We would require a demonstration against an actual vessel before completing the transaction.”

“Perfectly reasonable. I have a test arrangement that should satisfy your people, although I would prefer not to conduct it anywhere near the station. I’ve only just got set up, and I’d hate to find myself out in the galaxy as persona non grata.” He retrieved another PADD, briefly examining a series of technical diagrams before placing it beside the first.

Nareth looked over at her guards before looking back at Vincent. “I believe we may be able to come to an arrangement, Mister Holmes.”

“Excellent.” Vincent’s smile widened, and he retrieved his glass once more. “I do enjoy working with people who appreciate good engineering…” He smiled as he watched her move to the door. “Do try to keep your gentlemen away from the equipment on your next visit, Miss Nareth. I should hate to damage another perfectly good security cartridge. They’re quite expensive to produce, and I’ve yet to find a way of making them reusable…” He watched her leave before he sat down, tapping his desk for a moment. “All recorded, Watson?”

“Yes, Sir, entire conversation holoscanned and saved in the Security Vault,” the computer’s disembodied voice informed him.

“Excellent.” Vincent sipped his drink before he sighed contentedly. “Once the deal is done, let’s monitor to figure out what they use it for. Would be good to hold onto that information in case the Cardassians get uppity.”

“Very good, Sir,” the computer sounded almost bored. “Anything else?”

“No, Watson, you can go back into surveillance mode.” Vincent knocked the drink back and stood, removing his jacket. “Shame she wasn’t interested in dinner, Cardassians are such charming conversationalists…” he whispered to himself before he smiled. But he was sure it was not the last he had seen of her.

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Vincent Holmes
Trader and proprietor of V. Holmes & Co Merchandise

 

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