Stardate, oh, wait, that’s pajama-boy talk.
“Ka-hu-u-u-u-na!” I heard that all to familiar voice come over the intercom. It was Gremmie. What the heck did he want now?
“Kahuna here, Gremmie,” I responded.
“Ku-u-ul, Du-u-u-de. Have you got the Zog’s? I’ve got your ketchup.”
It was coming back to me. Quark said he had a contact that might be willing to make a trade for that case of ketchup for some Mr. Zog’s Sex Wax. We needed enough for the ship when we hit the Betelgeuse Rollers in a couple of days. Lots of Zog’s, actually.
“No Gremmie…YOU are supposed to have the Zog’s for me, and I give you the ketchup.” Gremmie was pretty whacked. Must have been from the incident with the Bat Guano. This was a new ship. Somehow, it looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Thing was a yacht. More than Gremmie could afford on Fleet pay, and no sane person would higher him to Captain a boat like that. Meanwhile, still no wax.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h. To-o-o ba-a-a-ad. I have 500 cases of Heinz Ketchup onboard to tra-a-a-de.”
That’s a boat load of ketchup. No tribbles to make burgers either, I bet. “Sorry Gremmie, don’t need the ketchup. Just the wax. Know where we can find some?” Something flitting about in the distance got my eye on the view screen.
“Yea-a-a-ah, but it isn’t up for trade or sale, except for maybe a Duras Sisters’ Special.”
Ah, I get it, Gremmie wants to try out the latest wiz bang, kowabunga making, torpedo from the Duras Sisters. I had managed to sweet talk them out of two in exchange for a product endorsement, and a few other, uhm, favors. The endorsements to be made after testing them out.
“I don’t know Gremmie, these babies might be a little too hot for you to handle.” I was realizing I was fastenated by the flickering lights in the dancing in the distance. I couldn’t quite make them out. Kind of like fireflies dancing in the moonlight.
“You have one?” another voice cut in, very excited.
“Well, hmmm, suppose I do?”
“To-o-o-ld you Kahu-u-u-na would ha-a-a-ve one.” I heard Gremmie say.
“I’ll give you 10 barrels of Zog’s AND the ketchep.”
The voice was somehow familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Were those dancing lights little spaceships?
“Got any tribbles for a barbeque? Or a few cases of Tribble Sweat?”
“No. How about some champaigne and caviar?”
Cavier? Fish eggs? Who the heck is this poser?
“I don’t know, dude. That’s not much for a Duras Sisters Primo Supremo Wave Maker Torpedo.” They looked like little interceptors.
“How about I make it 20 barrels of Zog’s, the ketchep, 10 cases of champaigne, 10 pounds of cavier, and 20 pounds of Brie cheese?”
Oh brother…what the hey, we need the wax, and with the Betelgeuse Rollers coming up faster than a new hit from the Praxis Jacks, I figured what harm could letting them have one torpedo do?
“All right, you’ve got a deal.”
“Fine, fine. Gremmie can co-ordinate the cargo transfers with you.”
Something in the back of my head was warning me that this might not be such a hot idea, but, too late. We had a greed to a trade, and I always keep my deals. Never once have I Rommied out of a trade.
Makani and Kareless, worked out the details of the transfer with our new tradig partner while I went down to the bar for a pint of Guinness.
I was on my second pint, going over wave reports, when Makana called me on the comm, and asked me to join him and Kareless in the cargo bay.
When I joined them, Makana said, “Um, Kahuna, you aren’t going to believe this. I think we’ve run into this guy before.”
“Are you sure?”
“Um, yeah. Look at the markings on the cases.”
I did. There on all the cases and barrels there was the ship’s name that we just traded a top notch surf torpedo to. The signs read:
U.S.S. Winter Soldier
It was worse than I feared. Not one, put two posers with a Duras Sisters’ Primo Supremo Wave Maker Torpedo.
I hit the comm switch, and called out to the bridge, “Kohath, follow that ship. At a distance, and start recording. We may be in for a really great show.”
Kahuna
