“80.” Traan said as he tossed the chips into the middle of the table. He had started to make a habit of stopping by Renaks Casino and playing poker for a few hours every couple of nights. Currently, he was riding pocket bullets with a decent sized pot at the Hold ’em table.

“Hmm, raise to 160. Do your local buddies let you splash the pot like that in your private games?” The hook mouthed Lissepian replied.

“Local buddies? No, idea what your talking about… Raise to 300. And I’ll splash the Kirking pot whenever I want, pal.” The Andorian knew exactly what the suspected customs dodger and smuggler was referring to, but he wouldn’t let on. He took a swig of Terran Ale, having sworn off hard liquor several months prior before sprinking the chips into the pot in the middle.

“Oh, I think you do. Call.” The Lissepian grinned.

Renak was listening and taking notes of the conversation. Renak had an idea of what the Lissepian was taking about as well, Renak flipped the river card as he was dealing this game himself.

A smile came over Traans face as Renak flipped the card and the Shipyard 2IC calculated that the lippy Lissepian was drawing dead, unless there was a fifth Ace in Renak’s deck that was.

“All-in.” The blue skinned mobster wannabe announced.

“Call.” Traan replied with rapidity.

As Traan and the Lissepian overturned their cards, Renak said, “Trips, Aces. The man with the antennae wins again.”

Renak started sliding the chips in the pot over towards Traan.

“You seem to be on roll Traan, please try not to send me to the poor house tonight,” Renak said with half a grin.

“Why you Guilded up piece of…” the Lissepian threw his drink glass across the table at Traan, who didn’t even move to dodge it since the drunken mans aim was so terrible.

With a discreet raise of his hand and a nod towards the Lissepian, Renak had two of the Casinos security guards show up over the glass huckers shoulders and swiftly began the process of removeing him from the premises.

As the Casino security officer yanked the Lissepian to his feet and began to drag him toward the exit, Renak called, “Don’t forget to extract his tab, and for the broken glass, and the standard ‘disturbing the other customers’ fees from him on the way out!”

An hour later, the two were chatting in Renak’s office in the far back upper corner of the casino.

Renak offered Traan a drink which he politely refused.

“The nerve of that guy hmm?” The Andorian mused.

“Indeed. Calling out a guilded up guy for being guilded up in public could endanger ones liberty or health even. That was not smart on his part.” Renak smiled as he had a seat.

“What’s guilded up even mean?” Traan played dumb.

“Come now Commander, I’m a Ferengi. What local are you with?” Renak asked. He knew that the underground group known as the Petty Officers Guild operated in small decentralized groups known as ‘locals’ harkening back to the early days of labour unions on Earth.

Traan felt he has gotten to know Renak well enough over the last few weeks to flinch ever so slightly. After several seconds of awkward silence he relented.

“I might have known some guys in Local 18.” Traan was infact the former underboss of the theft, extortion and illegal gambling ring back at the Luna Yards. His connection with the, small in membership, but widely distributed, group of mainly NCOs went all the way back to closing days of the Dominion War.

“Chief Holt is a fine example of a genuine Starfleet pragmatist, he definitely has the lobes for business too… so Commander, do you have an plans for shoreleave?” Renak pulled a small black device from his pocket, activated it and placed it on the table. Traan recognized it immediately as a state of the art anti-eavesdropping device.

It was obvious now to Traan, that Renak had solid connections with his associates, “No plans, but with the local stand down and relief crews in place I’ve got some nice chunks of time off. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing major, I was just planning on maybe making a trip to Colludia to do some debt collection. Several officers have made sizable wagers they failed to pay off before heading off on vacation. And…” Renak was cut off by Traan who leaned forward.

“And you want me to come and be your muscle since the place will be crawling with Starfleet and you don’t want to use your Nausican and Orion goons?” Traan frowned.

“Not how I would have phrased it, but that’s about the sum of it. We’d need to take one of your ships too, my vessel is off on a trade mission toward Druwidian space.”

“Thats asking alot Renak. I’ll have to make sure to get my fair share out of the credit chit you gave me.”

“I told you it was unlimited for a reason my good man.” The ferengi leaned back in his chair.

Traan and just gotten back into the ‘game’ a month before. Now he was already agreeing to help conduct a few shakedowns of some deadbeats who weren’t playing their debts.

“You want to contract us for the assistance or are you just hiring me.” Traan asked.

“Us? I thought you had no idea what the guild was?”

“I guess I just remembered.” Traan grinned.