Posted by Lieutenant Bradley Maxwell (Chief Medical Officer) in Ring of the First Nagus (Mini Sim)

Posted by Lieutenant Todd Nyman (Chief Counselor) in Ring of the First Nagus (Mini Sim)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Lazol (aCo) in Ring of the First Nagus (Mini Sim)
“All that glitters is gold.... All that glitters is gold… “

The words repeated over and over again, a mantra if you would ringing in the ears of an unfortunate soul looking to their hand. A cursed hand destined to create suffering with what it touched but yet, so appealing in a way. It was a strange and twisted beauty showing through the torment, the individuals mind cluttered with greed and desire for material things as that twisted shaky hand was held up, fingers curled and a single bent finger held out before it pushed slowly towards a stone where upon contact, a great heat spread out from the stone as a wave of energy passed over it, the stone being replaced with a proportionally equivalent lump of gold pressed latinum.

The shimmering lump of gold pressed latinum pulsed with a warmth that seemed to burrow into the stranger’s skin. They blinked, the mantra fading slightly as a wave of dizziness washed over them as they stared at the transformed stone, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against their frail ribs. It had worked! The simple hammered brass ring that looked too poorly even for a peasant had indeed been real.

The cursed soul had scoffed at the legends, the whispers of its curse. After all, what was a little greed to a Ferengi? It was practically a virtue! But now, as the ring throbbed on their bent and withered finger, a cold dread began to creeping up the spine as that sense of dread and doom radiated throughout them. The transformation of the stone hadn’t been a clean exchange. The air crackled with residual energy, and the faint scent of electricity mingled with something… else. Something ancient and malevolent.

They tried to remove the ring, but it wouldn’t budge. It was as if it had become a part of them, fixed to the very bone, its intricate Ferengi script burning into the flesh of their withering finger. Panic clawed at their throat. It had to come off, they had to get help. But who would believe such a tall tale? Their mind started to cloud as they could already feel the ring’s influence twisting their thoughts, amplifying his deepest greedy instincts, turning them into insatiable cravings for that which glitters, for the beauty that is a full purse.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in their mind, raspy and ancient, like dust and echoes. “A wise investment, young one. But all investments require… a return.” The latinum in front of them pulsed with heat and energy ominously, before plunging the room into a suffocating darkness. A chilling laughter echoed around them, seeming to come from the ring itself. “You seek wealth, power? It can be yours. But the Nagus always collects his due....”

---

Lazol had been on the Leviathan once before, an advantageous post to say the least that cost him a fair sum. He tapped his blue finger nails against the railing of his shuttle it approached, “When do we plan to get there, next year? I have business to attend to!” He called out, his voice nasally and irritating as the pilot simply ignored him. This Starfleet uniform was stuffy and not very flattering to his somewhat rotund figure and it was absolutely the wrong colors for him. But this new mission was certainly an interesting opportunity, and Admiral Jansson had been particularly persuasive in his methods of recruitment.

Docking at the ship Lazol could find a thousand little things to nit pick, his rank being one of them. A Lieutenant Commander? He was a DiaMon! Captain at minimum, Commodore more like it, but he was in charge, he had rather strict orders but the ship was his to command. He exited the shuttle and boarded once more, heading straight for the Bridge where he tapped his badge, “All senior staff to the briefing room or whatever you call it. NOW” He barked, his tone somehow more irritating as he made his way.

–Lazol, aCO–

Lieutenant Nyman practically jolted out of his chair at sound of Lazol’s orders. For one thing, he wasn’t used to hearing that tone from a Starfleet officer. His immediate response was something ingrained in him from his years dealing with Romulans. Second, though, he recognized what this meant. The new acting captain was here.

Nyman left his office and made his way to the conference room. A mixture of emotions running through his mind, ringing him like a bell. But he had in maintain his control. Sen’ra, he reminded himself. Strength, discipline, metal focus. That’s what he wanted this Commander to see. So, after taking a few deep steady breaths, he entered.

|Lt. Nyman, Chief Counselor|

Brad, while mildly annoyed, wasn’t too put out by the tone. Tempers flared hot sometimes during medical appointments, he’d heard worse tones in recent memory. He checked in with the next most senior officer on duty in sickbay, and upon confirmation everything was running smoothly, hurried down the corridor to the turbolift.

Arriving at the briefing room, he walked in, slightly smiling, and took a seat, watching the Ferengi obviously chafing in the command uniform. “Welcome aboard,” he greeted. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Lieutenant Bradley Maxwell
Chief Medical Officer

Dorian arrived to the conference room and quietly took a seat to wait. There was an absolute stillness to the man sitting in the chair, as if he weren’t real.

• Dorian, CE/CA