DS9 Ficathon Entry - Marketing

Here's my DS9 ficathon entry. I am so ashamed. I wrote A Wacky Episode!

Request

Name: Hobsonphile
Livejournal: hobsonphile
Pairing or Character: Martok/Sirella. Because they crack my shit up, yo. "I shall endeavor to die- this year if possible." Muah!
Two (2) Things You Want: SNARK, baby. And Klingon sex. Because Martok said "infrequently," not "never." *g*
One (1) Thing You Don't Want: No non-con. That's kind of my general rule.
Maximum Rating: None

Comments

This was a bit hard to write, as I've only seen the episode in question once, and that was a long time ago. But then a wonderful little thing called "last-minute panic" set in, and an entire, very goofy plot came to mind. I apologize in advance for any character mutilation, but last-minute panic is a harsh mistress.

(1840 words)

Marketing

"Please inform the court as to the reasoning behind your offense, Mister Quark. And please give a straight answer this time."

Quark bent low, his hands wide in the best cringe he could manage with a courtroom table before him. His lawyer looked faintly embarrassed at the display, or at least Quark thought he caught a hint of the expression when he returned to an upright position. Quite an achievement for a Vulcan, really. "Most honorable magistrate, I can assure the court I meant no injury to the involved parties."

"Do not explain further," the lawyer murmured. "Simplicity has always proven successful with this judge."

He ignored him. On further thought, he'd realized that if his lawyer had shown embarrassment, then he wasn't a particularly good Vulcan. The whole reason he'd hired him had been for the Vulcan logic, and if that wasn't a sure thing, better to go with Ferengi cunning. "Your honor," he said in his most obsequious tones. "It is hardly a new business model to involve existing personalities in the pleasurable storylines of holosuites. When I expanded into a new line of products to expand my earning potential, I was simply following the path of many brave entrepreneurs before me."

The judge raised one eyebrow up near her hairline. "Which doesn't address the specific problem raised by the plaintiffs."

"You can rest assured that I would soon address that, your honor." He stood to address the court in a grand manner that made his lawyer close his eyes, likely to distance himself from what was occurring. Definitely a poor Vulcan. "Who here has not desired to experience the heights and depths of passion and loss experienced by the great romantic couples of the galaxy? Romeo and Juliet, Treylin and Sarise-"

"MISTER QUARK. You have still not explained why you think putting fictional characters from literature and mythology is on the same level as using real, living individuals."

He cringed again under the harsh tones. "Given the success of my first line, I though 'power couples of the galaxy' was a rich field to mine for the second release. That I selected this pair was meant only as a show of respect to their influence, fame, and, ah, stamina. It was meant to honor them, not insult them! All across the quadrant, people will hand over latinum by the bars to be a part of the grand love of Martok and Sirella!"

"You lie!" The courtroom jumped in their seats as the woman in question pounded her fist against the table. "Filthy Ferengi money grubber, you know nothing of honor!"

Quark dared risk a glance across the aisle and winced at the fury that sat in the opposite chair. Her eyes were hard and fierce, and that fist she was making... well, it looked harder. And those gloves put little pointy metal bits above her knuckles. He inched his chair a bit to the right.

"Judge!" Sirella barked out. "You have seen the kind of filth this man peddles, and I demand to have my image stripped from it."

"Wife," Martok said in low tones, "we are not like the Ferengi. We will wait until the magistrate acknowledges us."

"Had you acknowledged this Ferengi properly back when you were working on that Cardassian station, we would not have this problem now." She turned to glare at Quark yet again; he reacted with a reflex cringe. Really, it was like breathing by this point. "You should have made him aware of his place compared to members of a high Klingon house. Perhaps then, you would not have seen your wife turned into... that." She motioned grandly to a panel in the wall. To the side, the jury groaned.

The judge looked just as frustrated. "Bailiff," she sighed. "Please call up Exhibit A."

"Again," one of the jury members muttered just loud enough for Quark to hear.

The meter-wide panel promptly called up a two-dimensional version of the program he'd been peddling all throughout the Federation and every surrounding territory. Flatscreen versions of Martok and Sirella were lounging in a dark, torch-lit hall that appeared to be carved from solid granite. A vat of bloodwine stood off to the corner; on the opposite side was mounted a row of painsticks. What clothes were on the pair of Klingons were either red, silky, and very small, or made of leather and studded with metal.

"Martok" took a deep breath, then promptly began a line of what Quark assumed was Klingon love poetry. Given that he'd set the program to a no-Universal Translator setting, he'd taken the first poem that had come up in his search. For all he knew, though, the man could be listing his favorite types of shoes.

As the program played, he risked a glance over to Sirella. Her mouth was tight, but the anger had momentarily subsided. He looked back to the screen as her on-screen counterpart ripped free the top half of her outfit, revealing a pair of high, firm breasts. She held up a pair of throwing knives, barked something at her lyrical mate, and pitched one of the blades at his head. Her chest swayed as she moved. It was quite... hypnotic, really.

"Your honor!" Sirella once again yelled, forcing the bailiff to halt the playback. "Do you see what this Ferengi worm has turned me into?"

"Sirella," Martok murmured. "No one with half a brain would think you to be the kind of weak woman he shows."

"Perhaps you would like that better, Martok. I can think of no other reason for you to be so casual about him slandering our names."

"Not 'our,' wife." He risked a rather amused smile. "I think I came across quite well. This is your lawsuit to be won or lost."

"Then I shall fight," she proclaimed. "For every Klingon woman who would see something like this and feel her heart start to shrivel away."

The judge looked ready to rub her temples. "That is what we're doing, madam. Your lawsuit to halt all sales of Mr. Quark's program within Federation borders, if you recall. If we could stop talking in circles and leave behind the grandstanding, we might be able to get something done." She looked to her left. "Mr. Quark, answer me this: why did you choose these two to include in a program?"

"Because of the security scans on the station, I already had their images ready for use."

"...That's it?" The judge looked at Quark in disbelief. He was getting the distinct impression that she wasn't used to the conduct regularly practiced by non-Federation races. "No... research into how it would sell?" The words sounded unfamiliar coming from her pathetic, non-capitalist lips, luscious as they were. "No ploy to play into warming Federation-Klingon relations?"

"Profits need only be larger than the overhead, your honor. Cutting costs from the beginning helps assure that."

She shook her head. "All right, then. Surely you had to recognize that the individuals seeing their images used in such a way would have every right to raise offense."

"Yes, your honor, but not in a legal sense. Although Deep Space Nine might have officially have become Federation property, Federation law only prohibits the manufacture of products that illegally use the images of Federation citizens. For someone else to stop manufacture, they'd have to prove an immediate Federation interest." He made a face and grumbled, "Which these two seem to have done. I think most people in the Federation would respect the leader of the Klingon Empire more if they saw... that." He waved to the screen, which was restarted. The jury looked disgusted yet again.

Sirella stood so quickly that her chair was knocked to the ground behind her. "Your honor, I demand satisfaction."

"Ms. Sirella, I am finding many issues with Mr. Quark's arguments. Do not aggravate me when I am pursuing your interests. In my courtroom, we will proceed at my pace."

On-screen, dusky breasts began to move up and down in perfect rhythm. The clatter of knives mercifully drowned out other noises for a moment as the weapons fell to the ground and were kicked away. Sirella's fury seemed only to grow. "But look at that!" she yelled. "He has me wielding blades!"

The entire courtroom seemed to pause. Even the worthless lawyer looked as if he'd been plugged back into the oddity that was Quark's trial. "Pardon?" the judge finally asked.

"He is showing me incredible disrespect! Any Klingon woman in the fully glory of womanhood needs not use blades to cause her mate adequate levels of pain for a mating ritual! I have not used an edged weapon in foreplay since I was a very young woman!"

The judge had to pause again before asking, "...You mean to say you don't have any issue with the..." She simply motioned to the screen. Professional or not, there was little to be said when Martok was enthusiastically yelling a string of Klingon with "Sirella" heard somewhere in the middle.

"Of course not. For all his scheming ways, he has perhaps made me even more attractive than I am in real life." She tilted her head faintly and nodded. "My breasts look glorious."

"Your breasts are glorious," Martok said in a low, rumbling voice. She turned to him and gave a wicked grin.

"Excuse me, your honor." Quark held up a hand to catch Sirella's attention. "You mean to say your problem would go away if I stuck... a pile of rocks in the program instead of the knives?"

She considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Small, blunt projectiles are an honorable weapon for this event. Their pain is sharp and lasting, but they give the male equal chance to dodge and prove his agility."

Now the judge really did rub her temples. She looked over to Quark's lawyer, who just shook his head at her. Pfft. Quark rolled his eyes. These Federation types never knew how to deal with the rapid changes of dealmaking. He leaned over and extended his hand across the aisle. "I think we have a deal."

She enthusiastically shook it. Behind her, Martok simply chuckled. "You are lucky, Ferengi," he said only after the two had released their grip. "You were... generous with the areas that would have been concealed during those security scans. Otherwise, I might have had something to say alongside my wife's protests."

Sirella looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. She purred, "He was not that generous, husband."

The jury backed up against their chair backs once more as the two smiled at each other in a manner a degree too familiar for a courtroom. The judge shook her head and stamped down the gavel. "Case dismissed."

"Tell me," Quark asked, leaning over before they could let too much of their attention drift away from him. "What would you think about distributing this in the Klingon market?"