VIGNETTES

By: Aesop

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Star Trek or Farscape, and no profit is gained.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After 'Hobson's Choice' was posted to I got questions about a sequel to the story. I've been working on new vignettes as I get the time. Here is something no such series would be complete without. A scene in one of our favorite bars.

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: None to speak of.

CATEGORY: Crossover

ONE YEAR AFTER HOBSON'S CHOICE

The Requisite Bar Scene

The Hynerian smiled benevolently at his hosts as he raked in the pot. There was grumbling from the other players, but most were merely lamenting their rotten luck. It wasn't hostile, yet.

John sat at the bar nursing a glass of synthale and watching the proceedings in the same mirror that allowed the establishment's owner to keep a discreet eye on his customers. It was only a matter of time, Crichton knew, before the grumbling did turn hostile and then became more than grumbles. Rygel wasn't cheating, per se, but his luck had turned around with a suspicious suddenness.

The station to which they were currently docked was on the border of Federation space; at least it was now that Bajor had joined the Federation. Captain Kira Nerise had spent months working out the details to her satisfaction. One rumor had it that she had turned down Bajor's new seat on the Federation Council to stay on DS9, believing that she could best serve her people there.

He hadn't bothered to explain his interest in the local politics to his crewmates. The fact that, in his home universe, DS9 was a TV show wouldn't have meant anything to them. Crazy Human, he could hear Rygel muttering in his head, and he had to smile. Some things would never change he supposed. Thankfully, many things had changed with their arrival in the Federation.

Their downtime had been infrequent over the last year. Between visiting different Federation planets, learning their way around their new home and making a living in general, they had taken very little time so far to just enjoy themselves. Opportunities to transport cargo and passengers were plentiful, but there was a lot of competition, sometimes Moya's crew had to work, literally, for food and docking fees.

Closer ties to Starfleet could have made life easier, but John found himself reluctant to rely too much on the connections he had or to put himself and Moya in debt to anyone. It was an attitude that baffled the Starfleet officials who had, at first, eagerly greeted them with questions about his Earth, about the planets and races in the uncharted territories, and of course, wormholes.

He didn't mistrust their intentions, but he held back regardless. There were always those, John knew, who would misuse the technology, no matter how well intentioned they were. Knowing what wormholes could do, how they could be used to destroy entire planetary systems, was enough to keep him quiet. No one in this galaxy that he knew of had mastered the technology, and Jack's words kept coming back to him. 'If you're not smart enough to figure it out on your own, then you're not smart enough to use it wisely.' It was a depressing line of thought, so John focused on his surroundings again. DS9, wow.

It wasn't exactly a vacation wonderland, but Bajor was a pretty place and the crew had spread out a bit. D'Argo had taken Aeryn and the baby to the planet along with Noranti who seemed fascinated by Bajoran culture, while John had drawn 'baby sitting' duty. He was keeping Rygel, Chiana, and Stark out of trouble. Speaking of which…

"Davo!" John looked over to the table to see Stark standing at one of the roulette wheel looking things raking in a small pile of ingots. The Banik only had a little currency, John had seen to that, and the amount of damage he could do to their finances was limited.

Stark had apparently won a round or whatever it was called and would now, John knew, grow cocky and soon lose it all. It was just the way the Banik was. He became over-excited so easily, and common sense would fly out the nearest airlock.

This didn't especially worry John, as he also knew that the Banik's focus would change soon enough. It wouldn't be long before he found something new to get excited about.

"Davo!" Then again… There was a groan from his right and John glanced away from the mirror to see Quark, the Ferengi bartender frowning as more of his money was handed over to Stark. He noticed John watching him and offered what he probably thought was an ingratiating smile.

"You're friend is very lucky today. That's the third time he's doubled." John just grunted. "You're the ones who came in on that big ship right? The living one?" John nodded. "Cargo haulers, right?"

"That's right." The prospect of new business made him more communicative, but he knew Quark too well from the show to trust him in much of anything. "We don't run contraband though, whatever the frog might've told you."

"Contraband? What makes you think I would be involved in that?" John stared levelly at the Ferengi who finally just shrugged, deciding to let it go. "I have an opportunity for you. I know of some people who need to move a lot of supplies and equipment to the gamma quadrant. A big ship like yours, at loose ends too, I hear."

John made a non-committal noise, not trusting the offer. Reputation aside, Quark reminded him of some of the slimier merchants he had encountered in the uncharted territories.

"They need a big ship that can move a lot of material at once for a fair price. I'd expect to get a 'finders fee' out of it of course. You were unaware of the job before I brought it up and I have a certain pull with Nerise, er, Captain Kira. I could make the introductions, put in a good word for you." John resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the blatant name-dropping. He figured he had already pushed the Ferengi far enough, and the job might be legitimate.

They would have to watch him carefully, though. "Okay. You wanna make the intro for a cut of the profit. We can probably deal, but you'll have to make the arrangements with my captain." D'Argo had gotten downright snippy about that point lately. He was the captain, damnit and expected the crew to follow his orders occasionally. Letting D'Argo make the business decisions, with some prudent, though usually unwanted, advice from Rygel, seemed the best way to mollify him. "He should be back late tomorrow afternoon."

Quark's grin widened. "I'll talk to him when he… What is she doing?" John turned to look for his third charge. Pip was hanging all over a tall lanky alien with a transparent skull. She seemed to be whispering in what was probably the alien's ear while he placed his bet for a spin at one of the wheels.

"She's being Chiana," John sighed.

"What's that mean?" the bartender asked, apparently not realizing that it was the gray-skinned girl's name. John sighed and got himself ready to leave.

"Probably means trouble for me." He looked around at his companions, three potential sources of disaster. There was a cry of 'Davo' as Stark raked in more currency. Rygel's marks, why not call a spade a spade, John decided, had gone beyond suspicious and were beginning to look distinctly hostile. Trouble of another sort was headed towards Chiana. At least, the angry looking female closing on Chi's current lust interest like an oncoming storm certainly looked like trouble. "Oh yeah, here we go." He left currency for his drink on the bar with a nod to Quark and moved toward Chiana.

"Come on gray girl, time to go," he said, clapping her on the shoulder as he passed. "Three o'clock."

"Huh? Why? Oh." Chi gave the alien a fond kiss on the cheek before hurrying after John.

Rygel's table was the next stop. "Know when to fold 'em Froggy," John advised, and Rygel looked up from his growing pile and took a good look at the other gamblers.

"Ah, gentlebeings, it has been an honor and a privilege." He raked his winnings into a bag with a practiced sweep of his short arms and moved his throne sled away from the table to hurry after John, pausing only to give a slight smile and wink to a randomly chosen victim at the table. As expected, it didn't go unnoticed by the others.

"But I'm winning!" Stark wasn't happy about being pulled away from the game.

"That's the best time to stop," Rygel commiserated. "Hard, I know, but when you're ahead is the best time to quit." He sighed dramatically as they left the sound of two escalating arguments behind them. The newly arrived replacement for the Davo-girl at Stark's table, a beady-eyed Ferrengi, said nothing, but stared after them, looking thwarted.

Chi's new friend was taking a loud and public tongue lashing while Rygel's ersatz 'partner' in the crooked game was loudly protesting his innocence and poverty.

"Chaos, panic, and disorder," John noted as the alien with the transparent skull took a resounding slap and stumbled into a table where two inebriated Naussican's sat drinking, spilling their mugs. "Our work here is done."

Chi, recognizing the quote from her time on 20th century Earth, giggled as they slipped out a side entrance. "You're getting downright spooky old man," she noted.

"Way too much practice Chi," John replied with a note of fond resignation in his voice.

"I was winning," Stark sulked.

THE END