Erratic Nerd Writings

{{Really enjoying writing this story; reliving some fantastic memories while creating new ones.   Thanks go out to the man behind the original Kaz, too, as he helped me nail down some "smoker lingo", and gave me some pointers on Kaz's speech patterns.  This will probably end up being a novella/full length novel, so hope you folks are in for the long haul.}}

The bridge of the Enterprise was a tense, but operative, silence as the ship cruised along at high warp.  Kaz had his hands clasped in front of him, his chin resting against them, as he stared at the viewscreen. 

“Any signs of pursuit?”

Selorus spoke up from his science console, where he was going over the data the probe had fed to his station before it was destroyed.  “Negative, sir.”

Kaz spun around to where Kanor still stood behind him on the deck, absorbing everything that had just happened, and his current situation.  The Commodore pushed back the seat restraint arms and stood up, reaching up to unfasten a clasp that was on the right breast of his uniform.  It seemed to secure a flap of the burgundy uniform, and as it fell down, a white under-tunic was revealed that seemed to be made of thinner material.  He looked straight at Kanor as he came around his chair.  “We need to talk.”

“I concur.  Somewhere more private?”

Kaz looked down at the still unconscious Ensign Munson on the floor.  “Vulcan nerve pinch?”

“Yes.”

Kaz’s eyes looked for the blades Kanor had been carrying earlier, but didn’t see them, of course.  “Going to keep this a non-violent encounter?”

Kanor’s tongue shifted in his mouth before he responded, but he nodded his head.  “Offensively, yes.”

Kaz thought about that for a moment, again dueling gazes with Kanor, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Skid, you have the conn.  Alert me if we make any headway on figuring out what the hell that thing was, and follow standard departure of a hostile zone procedures.”

Skid turned in her chair at the engineering console, her emerald eyes narrowing as she looked at Kanor.  “Sir, might I insist on a fully armed security detail to accompany you…”

“I think Mister Kanor has already demonstrated a fully armed security detail isn’t exactly the best way to handle the situation.  Besides, as of now, we have no Chief of Security anyways.”

“Then I volunteer myself to accompany you, as…”

Kaz turned to face Skid more directly, his voice…softening a little.  Not quite ringing with authority.  “I need you here, Skid.  I’ll be fine.”

She wasn’t happy, her full lips compressing together tightly, but she nodded without saying anything further.

Kaz turned back to Kanor, and indicated the turbolift by the communications station with a hand.  “After you.” 

Kanor headed over to the turbolift and stepped in.  As he turned around, he saw Kaz exchange a look with Ensign Drei at Communications.  There was something going on there.

As the doors shut, Kaz gripped one of the control rods and twisted it.  “Deck two.”

Kanor clasped his hands behind his back as he looked over at the Commodore.  “You and Lieutenant Drei are dating?”

Kaz’s brow furrowed slightly, but he inclined his head in acknowledgement.  “We are.  You’re pretty observant of relative strangers, it would seem.”

Kanor grunted.  “I kind of have to be.”  He paused, looking ahead at the closed doors as the lift descended.  “I don’t have others I can rely upon.”

Kaz looked up and over at the tall bounty hunter, drawing something out of a pocket in his black uniform trousers.  “That’s a shame, then, Mister Kanor.  Regardless of species, people aren’t meant to be solitary.  We draw strength from a society.”

The lift stopped, and the doors swished open onto the deck of Kaz’s office.  Kanor wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, so simply followed Kaz as he stepped out of the lift in front of him and started heading down the corridor.  Kanor heard a metallic clicking noise of some kind, and then detected a burning odor as smoke started curling up in a thin line from Kaz’s hand.

“Are you injured?” Kanor asked.  He lengthened his stride easily to step past Kaz, in case there was some threat he had missed up ahead, somehow. 

Kaz frowned up at him as he stopped in the corridor, holding a small, white cylinder up to his lips and inhaling slowly.  Kanor’s brow furrowed in confusion.  The end of the cylinder flared with burning embers as Kaz inhaled from it, and Kanor realized it was the source of the smoke, as well.

“Of course not, why?”  Kaz saw the line of Kanor’s gaze, and the confusion on his face, and held the cylinder up for Kanor’s inspection as he pulled it away from his lips.  “It’s called a cigarette.”

Kanor was even more confused.  He had never heard of it before.  “What is its purpose?”

“To smoke?  You light it, and inhale through it.”  Kaz laughed, lifting the cigarette back up to his lips to inhale on again, before reaching out to ash the cigarette over one of those mysterious troughs that lined the side of the corridors along the floor.

“It enhances your ability to breathe?  I did not know humans used such devices.”  His eyes widened as he watched Kaz flick the cigarette over the trough.  “THAT is what those are for!”  He watched the ash fall, accumulating on an already considerable pile.

Kaz was openly grinning, now, as he reveled in Kanor’s reaction to such a trivial thing.  “Oh, I’m not human, I’m a Metron.  And…far from it.  It contains a blend of some mild narcotics; lighting them on fire and inhaling the fumes imparts a…well, a soothing stimulant, a high.”  He took a hit from the cigarette, and then pulled it from his lips to look at it appraisingly.  “It’s actually lethal, over the long term, to humans.  Does quite a number on their lungs.  Great hobby, right?”

Kanor frowned, his nose crinkling, as he stepped back from the puffs of smoke Kaz was exhaling through his lips and nose.  “Why would you partake in such an activity, then?  Are your lungs that different from humans?”

Kaz shrugged.  “Because I like it?  And to be honest, I don’t really know.  I’m most likely the first of my kind to enjoy them.  They were fucking banned and eventually disappeared entirely from Earth centuries ago.  Oh, sure, there are other cultures that practice, or have practiced, ‘smoking’ in different forms, but these tobacco-infused cigarettes from Earth, this design, are unique.”  Kaz took another long, deep hit from the cigarette, pulled it away from his lips, and closed his eyes, keeping his mouth closed as he savored the sensation.  He exhaled, finally, and opened his eyes with a grin, twin streams of smoke jetting out of his nostrils.  “Want to try one?  They’re addictive.”

Kanor shook his head violently, having lifted a hand up to cover his mouth, his gaze following the clouds of smoke as they were sucked in by ventilation in the corridor’s ceiling.  Kaz tossed the remaining stub of the depleted cigarette into a pile of ash in the trough as he looked to Kanor expectantly, his eyes almost looking…excited.  “Absolutely not.”

Kaz shrugged, reaching into his trousers again for a second one, and lighting it with a small metallic rectangle that seemed to create a small flame upon activation.  “You have no fucking clue what you’re missing.  I have these specially made right here on the Enterprise, using the exact same methods they used back on Earth all those years ago as much as possible.  They’re damn good.”  He continued walking down the corridor to his office, attempting to blow the smoke away from Kanor’s direction, at least, as they moved.

Kanor tried to taper down his revulsion for the activity, now that he knew what was actually going on in the process, though he doubted he was doing a very good job at it.  “I did not realize Metrons were venturing outside of their own space.”

“There are several aboard the Enterprise, actually.  Lieutenant Drei is another one, for instance.  But…we’re not exactly representative of the Metron society as a whole.”  The doors to Kaz’s office whisked open as they approached, and Kanor was impressed to see Doctor O’Neil, the Deltan, and the two bodies were gone already, though there was still blood spilled and the signs of their struggle before.  Kaz crossed to his desk and flipped one of the switches on the controls to the left side on the desk’s surface.  The wall on Kanor’s right parted, revealing a more relaxed seating area.  Two couches, some upholstered chairs, and a low-level table, as well as small end tables strategically placed. 

“Have a seat.”

Kanor, still keeping in mind where he was and under what initial circumstances had brought him here, moved to one of the chairs that faced the doorway to Kaz’s office, and was closest to the edge of the aperture the parted wall had revealed.  The seat was very comfortable; he instantly didn’t like it.  The material of the upholstery was red, and was made of what he thought was called “velvet”.  His nostrils flared as he picked up a faint, lingering odor nearby.  It took him a few seconds to place it as the same smell he had detected upon Ensign Drei when they had passed in the corridor while he was being escorted here before.  It seemed to be coming from one of the couches.

Kaz settled in a chair nearby, noting the specific location Kanor had settled into.  He took one last drag on his current cigarette, and then crushed it into a small dish, apparently designed for that exact purpose, on one of the end tables closest to his chair.  He rested his hands on the arms of the chair as he looked at Kanor.

“You collected the package the Federation posted the bounty upon; stolen designs and prototypes from a science installation.”

Kanor crossed his arms over his chest, his back ramrod straight in the cursed chair that was entirely too soft and cushy.  “I did.”

“I believed the plans to be non-militaristic and mostly scientific in nature, thus their posting for just anyone to bring the designs back to them for a hefty fee.  They would have kept information like that under tight wraps if it had been top-secret type of research and development with military applications.  However, they must also be fairly advanced or quite far along items if they were going through the damn trouble to post a bounty on the information’s recovery.”

“I concur; I came to the same conclusions myself.  I determined that band of pirates were the culprits after some digging, but since the items in question weren’t really something they were known to actively pursue for themselves in the past, assumed they were acquiring them for someone else, or simply for their monetary value to the highest bidder.  When no offers were made through the black market for any such items, I tracked down their ship.”

“As did we.  Since they were sitting around in uninhabited space, lightyears from conventional and unconventional shipping routes, it’s also safe to assume they were waiting for a trade-off.”

“Which is why I went aboard to extract the package before they could, and I might lose the trail.  The question is-who were they trading the items off to?  And whether or not it was that ringed monstrosity we just ran into.”

Kaz nodded.  “We were hiding behind the moon, waiting to see who would be arriving to the exchange.  Information can be a currency all on its own; the Independent Fleet could have used that information.  However, when we detected weapons fire…”

Kanor nodded as well.  A sound tactic; the Enterprise was no pushover, and even if they had encountered something beyond a Constitution class starship, they had an entire Fleet of allies to return to or call upon for backup, in theory.  However, no one had expected that spiked ring to appear.

“And now, here we are.”

Kaz smirked.  “You, alive; me…without the target of my damn jaunt out there in the first place, but a whole other sort of clusterfuck to figure out.”

“You-for the moment-holding me captive.  I don’t even know where we’re heading.  I can’t say I’m pleased about that.”

Kaz reached for another cigarette, scrutinizing the stiff, arms-crossed Kanor, even as the bounty hunter glowered back at him.  He fiddled with the cigarette in his hands for a moment, not lighting it, before leaning forward in his chair.

“Alright, Kanor.  It’s obvious you have some trust issues…”

“And you don’t have enough, clearly.”  Kanor turned his head to look over at the mess in front of Kaz’s desk pointedly.

Kaz followed Kanor’s gaze, and made a conciliatory gesture.  “I don’t typically like Klingons.  In my experience, they’ve always been fucking belligerent, bullies, or needlessly bloodthirsty.”

“You certainly know how to circumvent my trust issues.”

Kaz couldn’t help but grin at that.  “Hear me out.  While you’ve certainly been…violent, and direct, you haven’t been reckless.  I’m sure you could have killed Ensign Munson up on the bridge when he arrived.  You could have killed everyone in this room after I left earlier.  You could have assaulted any number of my crew at multiple times, taken a hostage…”

“That was my intent before.  With you.”

Kaz inclined his head.  “I suspected as much.  Consider me…what is it you folks go on about all the time?  Honored?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to use the stylus in such a fashion.”

“I’m not often the fist-throwing type.  I hate weapons, generally.  Either way, as I was saying, all of that…but you didn’t.  You were willing to listen, and discuss matters.  I suspect you picked up on some of the…internal matters aboard my ship, and could have used them to your advantage.  Hell, during our encounter with that crazy ringed thing, you probably could have gotten out of the shuttlebay in the confusion.  Instead, once you got to the bridge, you simply…observed.”

“I needed to know what I was up against, what was happening out there.  Your crew seemed competent enough in handling the ship, and you have capabilities I do not.”

“How DID you get up to the bridge, by the way?  Munson didn’t look like you had assaulted him earlier, and if Doc O’Neil had been accosted in some way, I would have had her screaming at me before you stepped foot on the bridge.”

“I have methods I use.  They are effective.”

Kaz went to go extract another cigarette, only to realize he had one out already he hadn’t lit yet.  Instead, he pulled out the flame-device to light the cigarette he had been holding.  “You’re a hell of a lot more succinct when you’re talking defensively, have you ever noticed that?”

Kanor frowned, his nostrils flaring.

Kaz waved the hand holding the cigarette dismissively, wisps of smoke fluttering about in the air.  “What I’m getting at is…you can take a step back.  Use your head.  Observe, analyze.  You’re not always rushing in, guns fuckin’ blazin’, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Believe me; you do not want to witness me in a battle rage.”

“I don’t doubt it.  However, you’re not ALWAYS in a battle rage.  You observe, you think before you charge off.  You analyze, strategize.  You’d be surprised how uncommon that is in our business.”

“I collect bounties.  You are a mercenary.  There are a LOT of differences.”

“Not really.  You collect bounties, a singular area of being a mercenary, because you don’t have the abilities to broaden your business.”

Kanor growled.  “If you are implying…”

Kaz ashed his cigarette and waved his other hand around.  “No no no…I mean…alright.  Bounties.  You go and collect something or someone for someone else, who then pays you for the return of said thing or person.  Cut and dry, pretty much.”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Nothing wrong with that.  The Independent Fleet takes on bounties sometimes; our meeting, for instance, of course.  However…we can also take on a hell of a lot more.  Cargo hauling.  Scientific data gathering.  Transportation of important guests, or even whole groups of people.  Why, we actually just completed a mission a few weeks ago where we…”

“Cargo hauling is tedious, and generally not cost-effective.  My ship does not have the sensor suite to handle in-depth scientific data gathering.  And I hate people.”

Kaz leaned back in his chair and lifted his half-burned-away cigarette to his lips for the first time, looking at Kanor.  “Exactly.  You don’t have the abilities to do things other than collect bounties.”

“I chose to collect bounties because it is the most cost-effective way for me to utilize my skills.  I choose what jobs I want to take, and what ones I don’t.  I choose when I work, and when I want to go off and have me some Orion slave girls.  I travel to and from the destination alone, without having to deal with anyone else.  If the job calls for dealing with others, it is usually combative; I’m good with combat.  I’m good at hunting things and people down.”

“Kanor, let me ask you something.”

“You’ve already asked me several things.”

“What, are you billing by the question?”  Kaz took another long hit to his dwindling cigarette, ashing it again.  “You make enough money to…what, keep your craft flying, keep your body going, and maybe toss some towards a fucking hooker or a pet project or something every once in a while, right?”

Kaz paused, looking at Kanor expectantly, but Kanor simply stared back at him, his face impassive.  He was not going to answer the question.

“Right.  I’m going to assume that’s roughly damn accurate, then.”  Kaz shifted in his chair again, propping his elbows up on his knees.  “You saw the ringed thing engage the pirate’s raider ship first.  Why do you suppose they did that?”

“Simple.  The pirates were clearly the lesser threat.  In removing them first, they could then focus all their abilities on the greater threat, the Enterprise.”

Kaz grinned as he sat up to crush his cigarette in the dish on the table; he then lifted a leg to drape it over the other, settling back in the cushions of the chair.  “You would think of it tactically.  How does that account for the communicative and scanning beams they initiated first?”

Kanor shrugged.  “Demands for surrender, scanning for valuables, maybe?”

Kaz held up an index finger, his grin seeming to broaden.  “OR…they specifically targeted the pirates because they were expecting to interact with them in the first place.  The fucking pirates didn’t respond satisfactorily, so they scanned the ship.  They didn’t find what they were looking for, so…”

Kanor frowned.  “Possible, yet it seems unlikely.”

“Why would you say that?”

“How would the pirates have communicated with them in the first place?  Your own Ensign Drei said it; he wasn’t even sure if that was a communication, he had never seen anything like that before.”

Kaz conceded the point with a reluctant nod of his head.  “True; however, if the ringed ship had hired those pirates in the first place, perhaps they had given them some sort of device that enabled the two of them to communicate with each other.”

Kanor shrugged.  “Alright; if that were the case, why the scan, then?  And why the destruction?  If they hired them, why would they not use them, or even gang up with them against the Enterprise?”

“You saw the way they destroyed that ship; I doubt they needed the fucking pirate’s guns to take us on.  And if you hired someone, and they failed…it’s conceivable they simply determined them unnecessary to keep around any longer.”

“And the scan?”

“What exactly were the contents of that package you retrieved?”

Kanor scowled.  “I didn’t exactly get a chance to go through them extensively; someone caught my ship in a tractor beam.”

Kaz waved his hands dismissively again.  “Yes, yes…but what did they look like at a glance, at least?  You DID check them, didn’t you?”

He shrugged.  “Data, plans, things like that.  Again, I didn’t notice too much, but it seemed to be what I expected.  Nothing of great military value.”

“Well, I think they were scanning for that package.”

Kanor shook his head.  “Not possible.  There were no tracking devices on that package, I verified that myself.”

Kaz rested his elbows on the arms of the chair as he pressed the fingertips of his hands against each other in front of him.  “Mister Kanor; I’ve never seen anything like what we encountered back there.  We weren’t even able to determine some fucking basic engineering functions of that monstrosity, as it appears to be composed of materials AND technology we’re not familiar with.  I’m not entirely gloating when I say the Independent’s databases are quite extensive, and I’ve personally added even more to ours here aboard the Enterprise than the rest of my compatriots have in the Fleet.  Now, I understand you’re a well-travelled individual; but you didn’t seem to be any more familiar with that damn thing and where it’s come from than we were.  And you’re going to try and tell me it’s not possible there’s not a tracking device of some kind aboard it?  With a straight face?”

Kanor frowned, but realized the Commodore had a point.  “It is still unlikely.”

“I’d say it’s very possible, in my fucking opinion.  I think they scanned that pirate ship, and didn’t find what they were looking for, so they turned to us, the strangers in the area.  Now, if they would have scanned this ship, they would have most likely discovered we had what they were looking for; whether or not they decided to be nice about it, we’ll never know.  After that little shitstorm, I’m not willing to gamble on their benevolent nature with the hundreds of lives aboard my ship.”

“A plausible theory, yes.  What does this have to do with me, and how much money I make, again?”

Kaz smiled a slow, beguiling smile.  “Even if I simply let you go, ignoring the bounty, letting you collect the money and go about your merry way…I’m fairly confident they’d track you down in search of their package, Mister Kanor.  I don’t know about you, and I hope you’ll forgive me for saying…I don’t put much confidence in your…Lollipop, was it?...surviving the encounter in good shape.  Or in your well being after whatever those things that direct that spiked collar in space realize you don’t have what they want any more.”

Kanor was silent, absorbing it all.

“So; here’s what I propose.  We work together on this.  You have the key component of the whole matter, but I have the resources to tip things a lot better in our favor.”

“And if I say no, you what-kill me?”

Kaz shrugged.  “I’m sure I could.  Even if it wasn’t me, personally; I doubt even you could fight off a ship of hundreds all by yourself.  Even if you did, and escaped, it wouldn’t be for long.” 

“And if I were to escape, I’d still have whatever that thing is most likely coming after me.”

“Probably.”

“They’d come after you, first.  All I need to do is turn the item in and collect my bounty while you preoccupy them.  I can be quite innovative in the matter of escaping if my life depends on it.”

“You think I wouldn’t point them in the direction of your hybrid ass immediately to save my ship and my crew?  And do you REALLY think you could avoid an entire organization of mercenaries hunting you down for retribution for the rest of your life?  As I mentioned, I don’t like senseless slaughter.  It’s wasteful.  We can all benefit from this if, instead of killing each other, we simply work together.”

“What would be the nature of this ‘working together’ you propose?  And how would we settle the payment?”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed a little as he mulled that over.  Kanor got the impression he was also trying not to smile. 

“I’m going to take a wild guess you wouldn’t enjoy being treated as a visiting dignitary of some sort; state room, access to leisure facilities…”

Kanor gave him a scathing glare.

“I figured as much.  Well, as it so happens, I have a chief of security position available…”

“Just like that, you’d offer me a position amongst your bridge crew, not to mention access to sensitive information and areas of the ship?”

Kaz laughed.  “Hardly.  However, as you were so eager to point out before, the security training of my so-called security force is sub-par.  Part of that was intentional, thanks to Mister Fucking Sh’lan, and part of it was his own incompetence.  I have…other measures in place to account for some of that, but it is a glaring issue you’ve given me the opportunity to address.”

Kanor couldn’t help but feel a tug of intrigue at that.  “And in what fashion would I be able to address it?”

Kaz shrugged.  “Training sessions.  Evaluate procedures and personnel, and then work on improving them.”

Kanor frowned.  “I would not have nearly enough time to train everyone and redesign your security procedures.  Plus, you DO realize this would afford me an excellent opportunity to subvert your ship and its crew in the future.”

Kaz waved a hand dismissively.  “Yes, that’s not what I meant, of course.  Nor would you have access to everything to be able to do so anyways…”

“Which would be a large impediment to the process and why it would be essentially useless.”

Kaz sighed a little.  “Okay, more like…an inspection and evaluation, then.  You, with an escort of my choosing, inspect different personnel and security procedures currently in place, and make notes on how to improve them, make note of weak areas or holes…that kind of thing.  Make suggestions for a training curriculum, maybe even a rough outline or something.”

Kanor’s lips pursed in thought.  “That…could work, possibly.  How would this involve the ringed ship, however?”

“I’d share whatever information about the thing as we discover it, and you’d be allowed onto the bridge when we go back to investigate it.”

“I would want to be included upon any excursions that take place to the structure, or any meetings that occur with its occupants.”

“Done, so long as it does not endanger my crew or our mission.”

“I would also want to be involved in discussions concerning the object.”

Kaz seemed more reluctant about that one.  “Within reason, yes.  You realize, of course, there will be more people involved than just those aboard this ship.”

Kanor frowned.  “The rest of your Independent Fleet members?”

“The Brass, as it were, yes.”

“And how would the rest of your Fleet react to my presence aboard your ship, let alone your involvement?”

“You’d be accorded the same respect as an official advisor and temporary attaché to the mission.”

Kanor wasn’t quite convinced.  “Because everyone is all friendly and happy in your Fleet, especially to outsiders.”

Kaz frowned.  “I won’t lie; there will be people who won’t like your presence or involvement.  There will be even assholes who won’t be too thrilled about you, due to that tiny killing incident earlier, and will actively treat you hostilely.  You will, however, be aboard my ship, at my insistence.  That will be fucking respected, even if grudgingly.”

Kanor nodded, seemingly satisfied.  “That seems more believable.”

“You realize, Mister Kanor, this means your actions will directly reflect upon me.  I am taking responsibility for you amongst my peers; therefore, consequences of your actions will directly impact my ship, my crew, and me.  I take that very damn seriously.”

Kanor’s eyes narrowed.  “You will find, Commodore, I, too, will take that seriously.  I repay the respect shown to me unto others.”

“Then we shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

“I am not looking to be aboard your ship for an extended period.  How long are you planning on investigating this…ring?  I have the package; I could collect the bounty now.”

“If I’m correct, and that ship was after it, we don’t know why.  The reasons why could be very interesting, especially to those who posted the bounty in the first place.”

Kanor scowled.  “Blackmail.”

“Not at all.  We give them their package, just like you would.  However, information, Mister Kanor, is extremely valuable.  Why settle with just the base amount of the bounty, when we can offer the Federation who took it, and why, at a premium price?  No one else will be able to provide that information to them, and, more importantly, we’ll be in the know ourselves.  So, in regards to how long…however long it fucking takes to get those answers.  Who, and why.”

Kanor shifted in his seat, finally acceding Kaz’s purpose was sound, and potentially very lucrative, though it left a bitter feeling in his mouth.  “Which brings us to the payment.”

“That is where we were when we were so rudely interrupted before, isn’t it?”

“Fifty percent.”

Kaz scowled.  “Oh c’mon, that is not where we left off.  You agreed to thirty.”

“That was before you enlisted my services in whipping your security forces in-line, and my time in finding out the answers to your questions.”

“Wait; this is for both the bounty AND the information selling?”

“Of course, why would they be separate?”

“Because we fucking offer them separately.  The bounty and the information sale are separate transactions.”

“Gathering the information seems like a risky endeavor, then.  What if they’re not interested in buying?  Or worse, can’t afford it?  We would have wasted all that time and effort for nothing.”

Kaz shook his head, holding up his left hand for a moment.  “Ahh, but that’s where you’re wrong.  For one, knowing what’s going on in the galaxy is invaluable, especially if those it concerns directly are fucking clueless themselves.  Secondly, you’d be surprised how eager to pay for sensitive information some people can be.  They’ll scrounge up enough.  It doesn’t happen often, but when they don’t want to, or they can’t, we have other ways to turn a profit off of that information ourselves.”

“Still sounds…unreliable.  Fine, fifty percent on each.”

“Not a fucking chance in hell.  I’ll give you the fifty percent on the bounty, that’s primarily you, seeing as how you have the merchandise currently and could, theoretically, keep it that way, or at least make it very costly for me to retrieve it.  The information will primarily be the Enterprise and the Independent Fleet as a whole.  Ten percent.”

“The bounty part we can agree upon, at least.  The information, however…”  he paused.  “Forty.  I’m still providing you a valuable service with your security situation.  And I removed your opponent, Sh’lan, and one of his allies.”

Kaz scowled.  “He was not my ‘opponent’.  Your security advisement is not THAT valuable.  Twenty-five.”

Kanor smiled.  “You haven’t seen my security advisements yet, nor how they will affect your ship positively in the future.  Thirty-six.  Final.”

Kaz’s upper lip curled slightly, revealing his clenched teeth.  “What, do you have fucking Ferengi blood mixed with that Klingon and Vulcan, too?”

“No, just human.  Do we have a deal, or not?”

Kaz took a deep, slow breath, glaring at Kanor, before finally exhaling noisily.  “Fine.  Fifty fifty for the bounty, and thirty-six sixty-four for the information.”  Kaz leaned forward in the chair to extend his right hand towards Kanor.  “Why the hell thirty-six, why not thirty-five?”

Kanor grinned broadly as he leaned forward to take Kaz’s hand and shake it, sealing their deal.  “Simple-one extra percent.  Just because.”

Kaz couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug upwards at that answer, but he shook his head slowly before tilting it to the side slightly.  “Human, really?”

“Indeed.”

“How’d that mix come about?”

“We are doing business together; we are not going to be sharing a bed.  I do not swing that way.”

Kaz snorted as their hands separated.  “Just means more for me, then.”

“Two last concerns.”

“You’ve already practically bankrupted me in this endeavor.”

“First, I want my items returned to me.  All of them.”

Kaz inclined his head.  “Fair enough, as long as you don’t use them against us.  You will find me quite pissed the fuck off if you do.”

“Lastly, my ship.”

Kaz leaned back in his chair, reaching down to pull out another cigarette as he looked at Kanor through narrowed eyes.  “I hope you’ll understand if I insist upon it being moved to our cargo bay for now.  Until this endeavor is finished.”

Kanor frowned, but nodded his head once, curtly.  “As long as I have uninhibited access to it at all times, and no one else.”

Kaz lit his newest cigarette and took a deep drag.  “Very few others, let’s put it that way.”

Kanor grunted.  “I want to be present if anyone else boards my ship, then.  Will I be informed of who these others might be?”

“If you ask nicely.”

Kanor snorted, arching his right eyebrow.

Kaz smirked, taking another hit of his cigarette.  “Well?”

Kanor growled, his lips parting slightly to show clenched teeth as he snarled.  “Fine.  Please.  If only so I don’t shoot when she’s boarded and ask questions later.”

Kaz ashed his cigarette, wagging a finger admonishingly.  “Remember that part about using them against us?”

“Very well.  I’ll use my bare hands to inflict pain upon whoever enters.”

“Wasn’t I just fucking praising your tendency not to jump to violent solutions so quickly a few minutes ago?”  The hand that wasn’t holding his cigarette dug down near his belt and produced an old-styled communicator.  With a practiced flip of his wrist, Kaz popped a metallic grid-like cover up, and proceeded to activate a button with his thumb.  “Kaz to bridge.”

“Skid here, Commodore.  Having fun with our guest?”

“He doesn’t swing that way, Skid.  Besides, Drei would be quite upset if I were spreading my sexiness around.  What’s our situation?”

“What’s your situation, sir?”

Kaz looked up from the communicator towards Kanor as his other hand moved his cigarette to his lips for a quick puff.  “Go ahead, Commander, it’s fine.”

“Procedures completed, still no signs of enemy pursuit.  Was just about to have Jax send us home.  And Lieutenant Selorus has some things he’d like to go over with you.”

“Sounds good.  Mister Kanor will be staying with us for a while, Skid.  Is cargo bay three empty?”

“Not entirely.  Cargo bay five is, though.”

“Very well.  Have Kanor’s ship moved to cargo bay five, then, by tug.  No one is to go aboard her for now, is that clear?”

The tone of Skid’s voice expressed her displeasure, but she responded anyway.  “Aye, sir.”

“Jax, you have the conn; bring us home.  Skid, bring Selorus down to my office with you.”

“Aye, sir.  We’re on our way.”

Kaz closed the metallic grille on his communicator and replaced it on his belt.  “Would you like some quarters arranged for you while you’re aboard?”

Kanor frowned.  While he did not like the idea of being separated from his ship for extended periods of time, having quarters aboard the Enterprise would most likely alleviate some tension between himself and the crew, as well as give the illusion the Enterprise folk had more control than they actually did over his situation.  “I…suppose so, yes.”

“Splendid.  I’ll have one of our ambassadorial suites prepar…”

“I would prefer regular quarters versus a…suite.”

Kaz’s lips puckered.  “Hrm…alright, though you don’t know what you’re missing, I’m telling you.  Again.  You just don’t appreciate the finer things in life, do you?  Officer’s quarters, then.”

Probably to keep him closer to those Kaz trusted most, as well as away from the mass crew.  At least they wouldn’t be as opulent as a suite.  Kanor ignored the verbal jabs.  “That would be sufficient.”

“Excellent.  I’ll have Skid escort you to them once she arrives.”

Kanor cleared his throat.  “My possessions?”

“Ah, yes.  Skid will be able to take care of that, as well.”

“She does quite a lot, it would seem.”

“She IS my XO, as well as the Engineering guru.  Keeps things in line down there with the boys.”  Kaz got to his feet, taking one last pull from his cigarette before putting it out in the tray with the rest.

Kanor followed suit, also getting to his feet.  “Where, exactly, is this ‘home’ you referred to?”

“Independent Fleet space.  I need to report in, and, unfortunately, enlist some additional assistance.  We were not prepared to interact with something on the scope of that thing back there.”

“You think your Fleet will be able to?”

Kaz shook his head.  “I didn’t say that.  More resources, however, are definitely an absolute.”

The doors to the office whisked open, revealing the Romulan Science officer, Lieutenant Selorus, and Commander Skid.  Kanor was very happy the Deltan’s pheromones seemed to have dissipated. 

{{The adventure continues!  Though it goes against my nature to post this yet (it's not finished, dammit!), a certain Optic Spider convinced me I need to.  Things can always be edited later!  You can check out his blog on his obsession with music at: http://obsessivemusicdisorder.wordpress.com/  }}

He found four phaser rifles trained upon him as soon as he stepped through the outer airlock doors of his ship and onto the shuttlebay of the I.S.S. Enterprise.  His welcoming committee consisted of four obvious security types, the owners of those rifles, spread out in a square formation.  At the center of that square were two additional people; officers, he’d guess.  One was an Andorian male, the antennae atop his blue head flexing even as the man scowled at him severely.  The other…Kanor resisted the urge to growl appreciatively.  A flaming redheaded woman, who appeared to be human, was standing with her hands on her very enticingly curved hips.  She was wearing a simple jumpsuit, spotted with stains and even some minor tears here and there, though woefully none in any interesting areas. 

“See?  He spared us the trouble of having to force ourselves onto his ship; I’d say that’s friendly enough.”

Oh, that accent of hers was delightful.  He couldn’t quite place it, though.  It didn’t sound like anything from a region of Earth he had ever heard of, and he thought he had heard them all.

“He also came out armed to the teeth.  I can see three visible weapons right off the bat, and that’s not even trying.  This is my arena; we’re doing things my way.”  He raised his voice as he looked towards Kanor directly.  “Hands behind your head, Klingon, and don’t make any sudden moves.  My men might get too…jittery.”

Kanor wanted to roll his eyes at the Andorian’s horrible intimidation effort.  “Well technically, I’m not a Klingon; I’ve just got Klingon ancestry.”  He turned his head to one side a bit and pointed a finger at the sweeping curved point at the top of his ear.  “See? Clearly more than…”

“Hands on your head!”  the Andorian barked.  Kanor reluctantly complied, and the Andorian holstered the disruptor he had raised.  He then produced a scanning device and aimed it in Kanor’s direction.  “Light-grade body armor, a personal shield generator, and tech…lots of it.”

“Look, if there’s going to be a strip-search, I’d prefer if she was the one who…”

The Andorian shot him a look to kill, his antennae shifting to display his growing anger.  He noticed, however, the redhead’s lips compress, and the corners of her green eyes crinkle in amusement.   The Andorian stepped past his two forward guards and up to Kanor, his lip curling up in obvious disdain as he reached out to remove the disruptors slung on each hip.  Kanor flinched at the disarming, but suffered through it.  He wasn’t in a great bargaining position at the moment.

The Andorian’s eyes widened, however, as he realized what one of the disruptors was, his antennae almost straightening out fully.  “This…is a modified Varon-T disruptor…”

Kanor decided not to say anything, his face easing into a more neutral expression.  The Andorian grunted, then stepped back, out of arm’s reach, and circled around behind him.  He shot a quick glance at the redheaded woman, who had crossed her arms underneath her well-endowed upper body.  He saw her eyes lingering on the Andorian, and a look pass over her face he couldn’t quite make sense of.  She must have felt him looking at her, because she quickly shifted to look right at him, instead.  Judging from the scrutiny in her gaze, he could tell she was quite capable of seeing through his forced bravado.  He felt the Andorian give a tug to his Mek’leth, and bristled as he felt its weight removed from his back.  The Andorian then proceeded to pat him down for concealed weapons; he had several.

By the time the Andorian had stepped back, satisfied he had removed Kanor’s extensive amount of weaponry (he hadn’t), Kanor was extremely irritable.  The Bolian guard the Andorian had summoned over with an empty case stepped back, bringing the now-full container over to the redheaded woman.  She opened it up to peer inside as the guard resumed his position, reaching back to unsling his phaser rifle again and retrain it upon Kanor.

“My my, you do like your toys, don’t you?”  She hefted his Mek’leth, her eyes narrowing as they ran along the blade’s length, her fingers moving the weapon around, testing its weight, how it moved.  She seemed very comfortable with bladed melee weapons, he noted.

“Is there a fucking reason you’ve brought me aboard your ship and removed my personal belongings, MA’AM?”

She replaced the Mek’leth, closed the container, and smiled at him.  It was not a happy facial expression.

“Welcome aboard the I.S.S. Enterprise, boyo.”

“My name is Kanor.”

“Well, Kanor, I’m Commander Skid.  That raider that was chasing you belonged to a group of pirates, who…”

“Who were firing upon ME when you arrived, in case you didn’t notice.  We’re not exactly bosom buddies.  Why did you apprehend my vessel?”  Bosom; did he really have to use that choice of words?

She ignored it, though he had no doubt she noted the slip.  “The fact you were being fired upon, and not in league with them, is the only reason you’re still breathing right now.  So I’d be grateful, if I were you, the captain of this vessel has decided to talk to you first.  As it is, you botched up an operation we were conducting pretty badly, so…”

The Andorian, who had remained standing behind him, cleared his throat loudly, apparently exchanging a look with the woman.  She frowned, but spun around without another word, and started walking briskly towards a set of double doors on the far side of the shuttlebay.  Sweet Kahless, she looked just as good walking away as she did standing there looking at him. He wished that jumpsuit were form-fitting, even if it would create way too much of a distraction.

“Walk.” 

Kanor frowned at the Andorian’s tone, his rising irritation with the situation making him imagine spinning around to give the Andorian a quick lesson in proper security precautions and true intimidation, but he only imagined it, for now.  He started to lower his hands to his sides from his head when he felt the Andorian grab his hands and slap restraints on them quickly.  He clenched his jaw, resisting the swelling urge to fight.  Skid had made a valid point; he had gotten this far without violence against these Independent people, perhaps he could manage to keep it that way for a while longer.  His nostrils flared at the injustice from these amateurs, but he diligently stepped forward to follow the glorious backside of the redheaded beauty, the square of guards falling in to flank him as they moved.  The Andorian remained directly behind him, though at least kept the sense to stay out of range.

As he was escorted through the ship, Kanor took in as much as he possibly could.  The crew bustling to and fro in the corridors seemed to be quite a medley.  He saw Andorians, Tellarites, Vulcans, Bolians, Bajorans, Humans, and even some he actually wasn’t sure on.  They were all wearing either a jumpsuit like the voluptuous redhead up ahead, or the burgundy military-type uniform the Andorian and the four guards were sporting.  He had to admit, the military uniform had a cut to it that he enjoyed, even if it didn’t seem to have any armor-like qualities.  For a mercenary ship, it seemed to be maintained very well; well lit, clean, no areas in disrepair, missing, or simply destroyed.  There were…troughs, for lack of a better term, that seemed to run along each side of the corridors.  He couldn’t quite determine their purpose, but he noted some sort of sooty material spread sporadically along their lengths.

They took a turbolift up several decks; he noted the woman and the Andorian gripping and twisting handles that lined the perimeter of the car during the course of the trip, though none of the guards did.  When they stopped and stepped out into the new corridor, Kanor noted the troughs had a lot more of that sooty substance, and more frequently.  Sometimes in large piles; he couldn’t figure them out, or their purpose. 

They only encountered two other crewmembers on this deck, both of whom seemed to wordlessly exchange greetings with the redhead and the Andorian; a young human male, with artificially dyed green hair in large, foot-long spikes, and a young male Trill with short dark hair in a wild tousle.  The Trill was studying a PADD so intently on his way to the turbolift they had just vacated, he barely seemed to notice the entourage as they passed.  He looked up for a second, their eyes meeting briefly, and Kanor saw a tightening around the edges as he gave Kanor a head-to-toe appraisal that apparently caused the Trill’s brow to furrow, but he continued on without saying anything. When they turned down the only branch-off of this corridor they had come across, they ran into the human.  Kanor thought he was a slave of some sort, as there was a large chain dangling from his person, but upon closer scrutiny, he realized it was apparently cosmetic in nature; one end seemed to be attached to his left earlobe, while the other end seemed to be somewhere inside his uniform shirt, as it draped down his back, under his left arm, then disappeared into the cloth.  It seemed horribly inconvenient, not to mention a surefire target in a fight.  Kanor judged it would not take much at all to rip the chain out of the young man’s ear and deal excruciating pain.  He had a very smug look on his face as he passed by, and Kanor detected a very faint whiff of some scent upon the man’s person when he came closest that he couldn’t place.

This deck didn’t seem to be nearly as well trafficked as the other, and the décor seemed…nicer, somehow.  This side corridor was also lined with strange framed circles of some kind.  Some were black, some were gold, and they all had circular grooves in multiple concentric rings.  There were labels in the center of each, and below, within the frames, were little plaques of some sort.  They were evenly spaced at about eye level (average humanoid eye level, at least, which was in the neighborhood of Kanor’s shoulders), and went down the full length of the corridor on both sides.  Kanor speculated this deck was shaped like a U, with this corridor being a bridge between the two arms.  They stopped in front of the only pair of doors he had seen thus far.  He studied the framed circles just to the right and left of the door as the redhead pressed the page button and announced their presence towards the audio receiver.  He had no idea who “James Brown” or “JJ Cale” was, nor did he know why their names would be engraved onto plaques beneath some strange circles and mounted on a wall; regardless, he filed the names away in case they might serve some sort of strategic value in dealing with these people.

The doors swished open quietly, and Kanor was escorted in to the captain of this vessel.  The redhead strode ahead to stand beside the right hand of the man seated behind the desk, while the Andorian stepped to the opposite end, but remained on the side of the desk closet to Kanor. 

“Captain Kanor, sir; the pilot of the small scout ship we encountered with the pirates.”

The slender man got to his feet, his alert, dark green eyes meeting Kanor’s gaze unflinchingly.  He wore a uniform just like the others; however, he had multiple cosmetic piercings on his face.  One in the nose, two in the right ear, one in the left, and one just below his bottom lip.  He clasped his hands behind his back as he circled around to the front of the desk.

“Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kanor, I’m Commodore Kaz.  You’ve met Commander Skid and Lieutenant Sh’lan.”

Kanor glanced over at the Andorian, who simply glowered at him.  He wasn’t impressed.  So, this man wasn’t just a Captain, he was a Commodore.  That made things interesting.

“Yeah, real pleasant meeting, too, being forcibly pulled onto a strange ship, ejected from my own, and getting treated to an armed escort to talk with someone I’ve never even heard of before.”  He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  “No offense.”  A vagrant lie.

Kaz returned a smile of his own, just as superficial.  “Let’s cut the shit, Kanor, shall we?  You’re no scientist…”

“Oh, you’d be fuckin surprised what I am.”

“That goes both ways.  Those pirates that were chasing you are…marginally competent, for pirates.  We’re out in the middle of nowhere.  You don’t strike me as the type of person who would go up against these pirates unless you had a specific reason to, especially with your scout ship, however heavily modified it may be.  What was the name of your ship, again?  Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to have any identification, electronically or otherwise.”

Kanor smiled.  “The Lollipop.”

“Ahh.  It’s a good ship, then?  One Klingon…”  Kaz’s voice trailed off for a brief moment, his eyes darting to the pointed ears.  “…hybrid, in a scout ship, against a whole crew of pirates?  Why…sounds like you wanted something from them.”

“I was looking for a few dozen Orion slave girls; it’s just me on my boat, I don’t have any redheaded bombshells to warm my bunk.”

“Gee, I wonder why not?” the woman added, giving him a frigid frown.  She was leaning back against the wall behind Kaz’s desk still, looking at him.

“Orion slave girls are like greedy Ferengi; whereas redheaded bombshells are like a stable wormhole.”

“Hmph.”

“You obviously don’t know anything, if you’re going to compare them to something stable.” the Andorian said.  The redhead shot him a venomous smile; she wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

“You and I both know there were no Orion slave girls aboard that pirate ship, Kanor.”

“I wish I had you around to tell me that an hour or two ago, then, Commodore, might have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“You weren’t, perhaps, meeting the pirates, only to have something go sour?”

Kanor kept his expression the same, but leaped upon that small nugget of information.  They didn’t know why he was here for sure, not yet.  He had wondered if the pirates were meeting someone, a buyer, to sell their package to.  It was why he had decided to infiltrate their ship then; before someone he would have had more difficulty going up against got a hold of the Federation parcel, before the possibility of losing the whereabouts of the parcel had increased.  However, it reinforced his belief the Enterprise was after the same thing he had been.

“Look, I wasn’t meeting the pirates at all; I did, however, drop out of warp in the wrong place at the wrong time, alright?  Then my cloak failed.  You said it yourself; I’m flying a glorified scout ship.  I don’t have a cargo hold, and I certainly don’t have anything I could transfer to the pirates in some sort of payment.”

Kaz smiled again; this time, it seemed almost with some sort of satisfaction.  “Exactly.  Which is why I’m certain you came here to retrieve something, instead.  Mister Sh’lan, have your men escort our guest down…”

“You’ve got to be joking, right?”

Kaz looked up at Kanor, his eyes narrowed just slightly.  “Excuse me?”

“HE’S your chief of security?  Big Blue Lug?”  Kanor snorted.

Kaz reached out to place a hand lightly to the Andorian’s forearm; all that was apparently needed to restrain Sh’lan from attacking Kanor.  “Mister Sh’lan is a member of my crew, and my chief of security.  I’d advise you not to…”

Kanor made a loud noise of disgust and derision.  He was part Klingon; he knew how to articulate insults by mere sounds.  “He interrupted his own guard’s line of fire on three separate occasions; twice in the shuttlebay, and then again as we were leaving the turbolift.”

Sh’lan’s antennae curled down close to his head as he sneered at Kanor, his blue fingers tightening their grip on the phaser he had holstered to his left hip.  Kaz simply raised an eyebrow, while Skid bit her lower lip, rolled her eyes downward, and looked down at the deck.  He barreled on, trying to provoke the Andorian into attacking him.  He needed some chaos.  Kaz appeared to be weaponless to his trained eye, and, he determined, not a fighter.  He didn’t carry himself that way.  The only thing on his desk was a clipboard and stylus; neither of which would help defend him against Kanor’s assault.  If he could take the Commodore hostage, he could gain the upper hand.  Not the best plan, but the best option he could think of.  Once they took him away from the Commodore, or locked him up in a brig, the harder things would be.

“He placed restraints on me AFTER disarming me, not before.  He did a piss-poor job of ensuring I had no means to attack his superior officer other than my bare hands, let alone allowing me to see all I cared to look at on our way here.  He didn’t clear our path of personnel; I could have easily attacked and endangered several of your crew.  Of the four guards he decided to have escort me, only ONE is even remotely close to being worthy of the noun.”

“These are four of my best men!”  Sh’lan shouted.

“The guy to my right hasn’t stopped checking out Red over there since I stepped out of my airlock.  If he’s not checking out her ass, he’s simply gawking at her tits.”

The man’s eyes widened, his expression startled at being called out.  He had no visible hair anywhere on his body other than his eyebrows and eyelashes; and, combined with other telltale signs, Kanor guessed him to be a Deltan. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I completely agree, they’re fabulous.  Not the best way to guard someone, though.”

Kanor lifted his hands and pointed a thumb behind his right shoulder before he lost momentum.  “She should not be on active duty.  She’s limping on her right foot, and has been closing her eyes to take naps periodically this entire time, even while we were walking down the corridors.  Look in her eyes.  She’s exhausted, and in pain.”

Kaz looked past Kanor towards the guard in question, before shooting a glance at Sh’lan, who only fumed, his knuckles creaking as his fingers tightened even further around the hilt of his disruptor.

Kanor indicated the guard behind his left shoulder with his hands, barely stopping for breath.  “He’s good.  Alert, but not jittery.  Constantly maintaining a distance beyond my immediate reach, which is considerably greater than all in this room with perhaps the exception of Mister Sh’lan himself (not a good call), yet remaining close enough to attack promptly should I do anything.”  He ended by inclining his head towards the young Bolian to his left.  “This guy is a mess.  This is his first assignment or at least his first encounter with a potential hostile.  He almost fired upon the green-haired guy with the chain outside.”  That piqued Kaz’s interest, he noted; a lot.  “He’s sweating, and has wiped his hands multiple times on his trousers in an attempt to keep them dry so he doesn’t drop his weapon.  Which, I might add, has been set to kill since he handed my belongings to Red back there on the shuttlebay.”

There was a clattering sound as the poor Bolian dropped his phaser rifle with a gasp.  Fortunately, it didn’t go off.  Sh’lan darted forward to scoop up the rifle, glaring at the Bolian before looking at Kanor with narrowed eyes, his antennae writhing and flexing in agitation.  He hadn’t adjusted the power setting on the rifle.  “I knew I should have shot you as soon as you stepped out.  Damn bounty hunter!”

“Stand down, Mister Sh’lan.”  Kaz ordered.

Kanor smiled at the Andorian, who had moved in much too close to his captive, and now stood between Kanor and the Commodore.  He threw everything into the straining of his arms, which he had been busy exerting force with since he started pointing out Sh’lan’s mistakes.  The last push finally did it; the shackles finally tore apart, the sound of metal snapping made the Andorian’s eyes widen in surprise.  “Lastly, you damn stupid merc, I’m part Klingon AND Vulcan; which means you need some better fucking shackles.”

Everything seemed to happen at once.  Kanor threw himself forward at Sh’lan, using his larger mass to send them both sprawling onto the floor.  A flash of crimson light shot past Kanor’s right shoulder from in front of him as he fell, and he heard a feminine grunt behind him, accompanied by the sound of another phaser behind him discharging.  He was surprised he hadn’t been shot, but hopefully his gamble of confusing any shooters with his proximity to Sh’lan was paying off.  He was gambling his armor would protect him long enough to take out the worst of the threats in the room.

Sh’lan, however, was furious.  The phaser rifle was caught between them, and Sh’lan’s hands were trapped against his own body by the weapon and Kanor’s torso.  The Andorian finally managed to yank one of his hands free, but reeled back as Kanor head-butted him in the face, the boney ridge of Kanor’s forehead slamming into the Andorian’s nose and breaking it.  Sh’lan cried out in pain, but still hammered a powerful blow into the side of Kanor’s head.  It hurt, but didn’t do much other than fuel Kanor’s adrenaline.  Kanor could feel the Andorian attempting to angle the phaser rifle just enough so he could simply pull the trigger and shoot Kanor at point-blank range, so Kanor desperately reached up and simply grabbed the Andorian’s left antennae.  Sh’lan’s spine curved back sharply as the Andorian screamed in excruciating pain, so Kanor tightened his grip and simply ripped the appendage off his opponent’s skull.  Dark blue blood spewed out everywhere, and Kanor turned his head away to keep the ichor from his eyes; he dropped the antennae, and reached up with both of his hands to quickly snap the Andorian’s neck.

A sharp, piercing sensation blossomed near the base of his neck on the left, just above the curve of his shoulder armor, and it was his turn to cry out in pain.  Someone leaned over him, and he heard Kaz’s voice talking just beside his ear.

“Listen, and listen closely.  You so much as flinch wrong and I’ll sever your version of a carotid artery.”

Kanor became very, very still.

“I know you have what we want.  I could have easily simply killed you and taken it by force; however, I prefer to maintain a certain level of professionalism and courtesy for other professionals.”

Kanor couldn’t stop himself from shooting off a reply.  “But you’re perfectly okay taking what I rightfully possess by intimidation and force?”

“As I recall it, you were being shot at by those pirates.  You might have been able to give them the slip-maybe.  Either way, I’m giving you a MUCH better option than those pirates would have.”

Kanor fumed, but said nothing.  Kaz was right.

“I’m going to step back so we can talk again.  One professional to another.  No.  More.  Bullshit.  You’re trying my patience; I’m not afraid to go the easiest route here if you dictate it.”

Kanor nodded his head the tiniest of amounts to indicate his acceptance, not trusting himself to open his mouth just yet.  He felt the object Kaz had rammed into his flesh pull out, his own bluish-brown blood spilling out of his dark skin.  His nose flared as he pushed away the dead Andorian, his right hand reaching up to try and staunch the blood coming from between his collarbone.  Kaz had struck him very accurately; too far one way, his collarbone would have interfered with the blow, and too far the other, it would have severed his artery outright.  He sat up awkwardly, his eyes sweeping around to take in what had happened.

The Deltan man lay sprawled face down on the floor, apparently unconscious.  There was a scorch mark on his lower back that seemed to trail up and to the right; Kanor gathered the Deltan had been stunned by the “competent” guard that had been behind Kanor’s left.  That guard looked perfectly fine, and was situated by the doorway to the room, his eyes looking right at Kanor.  The exhausted limping woman that had been behind him on the right was laying slumped against the wall, a phaser blast straight to the chest having killed her.  That had been no stray shot, either; the aim was too precise, too direct.  The young Bolian had fallen to the floor not too far away, and was staring wide-eyed at the dead Sh’lan.  His bifurcated face was splattered with the dark blue blood of the Andorian security chief.  Kanor had never known Bolians to go pale, but this one’s skin tone seemed to be a lot lighter than any other Bolian he had ever seen before.  The poor youth was clearly suffering from major shock.

He turned his head to look up at Kaz, who stood in front of his desk wiping what looked like a bloody writing stylus off onto some square of fabric.  Skid stood beside her commanding officer, a long knife of some kind in her right hand, and an older style phaser in her left, possibly a Federation Type-2.  She wasn’t pointing either weapon in his direction, but she was certainly keeping a close eye on him. Judging from the lack of other possibilities, he pegged her as being the one who had shot the exhausted woman.  That being determined, he found his respect of her abilities go up even further.  He clenched his jaw, but got to his feet, not willing to sit on the floor while talking to Kaz; it would be a position of weakness.

Now that the adrenaline was receding, he felt the damage he had done in snapping the shackles from his forearms.  Both throbbed horribly, but he was certain he had fractured his left wrist.  Tiny rivulets of his bluish-brown blood trickled down from where the metal had scraped and cut the flesh around his wrists and lower hands.  He could endure the pain, but he would need to mind the loss of blood, to say nothing of the loss in grip.  He met Kaz’s eyes as he straightened his back.

“It would seem you had other issues other than me.”

Kaz smiled a bit, sitting the writing stylus on top of the clipboard on his desk, and then glancing at the blood seeping past Kanor’s fingers as he pressed at the wound in his neck.  He stepped forward a little and offered the cloth to Kanor, who took it grudgingly.

“You…could say that.  It could be said your assault on Sh’lan was very fortuitous for me.”

“Is this how you treat all members of your crew who cross you?”

“You wouldn’t understand.  Referring to him as a ‘member’ of my crew was generous, at best.  You have something we want.  I have something you want.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who has something the other wants.”  Kanor stated.

“You don’t want your life and freedom to leave unmolested?”

Kanor scowled.  “What do you propose?”

“You turn the item over to us.  We’ll collect the bounty.  I’ll offer you a…finder’s fee, as payment.”

Kanor snorted.  “I don’t fucking think so.  I did the work of getting it from those pirates; I did the work of finding it.  Fifty percent of the bounty.”

It was Kaz’s turn to laugh.  “You’re quite delusional.  We knew where to find it, and would have gotten it ourselves just fine.”

“Yet I got to it before you folks did.”

“Ahh, but you didn’t get AWAY with it before we came along, and therein lays your issue.  You stole it, but we’ve secured it.  Ten percent.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Twenty.  Need I remind you the small fact you’re getting to walk away from all of this, and were effectively rescued from being shot down?”

“Thirty.  I’ve apparently helped give you a good reason to have your security chief and his cohort back there killed, with the convenient package of having it look like…”

Their conversation was interrupted by the shrill shriek of a klaxon blaring overhead, followed shortly by an indicator lighting up on Kaz’s desk.  Kaz frowned, twisting at the waist to stab the button with a finger.

“Kaz here; report.”

“An unidentified vessel just dropped out of warp in the system.  They’re not responding to our hails, and we’re unable to classify their ship construction.”

“Oh, well, isn’t this just bloody fookin’ marvey…” the redhead mumbled.

Kaz shot Skid a look while frowning.  “I’m on my way.”  His gaze passed over Kanor, and he added.  “And have Doctor O’Neil report to my office; we have an injured guest and crewmember that need medical attention.  Plus the bodies of Lieutenant Sh’lan and Ensign Travers.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Kaz straightened up as he released the button on his desk.  “You’ll remain here, under guard, while…”

“The fuck I will.  We’re not done here, and I’m not going to just wait around while leaving my life in the hands of people I don’t know.”

“And I’m not about to invite a hostile stranger aboard the bridge of my ship during a potential combat situation.  Ensign Munson?”

The alert guard near the door came to attention.  “Sir?”

“Keep your weapon on heavy stun, maximum setting.  If he approaches you in any way, fire, multiple times.  Do not assume he is down until you have safely confirmed such, and do not hesitate to stun Doc O’Neil if she’s in the way as well, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Kaz glanced over at the young Bolian.  “Keep an eye on Ensign Ikkig, as well, and ensure the Doc looks him over.  Skid, with me.”

Kanor growled as Commodore Kaz and Commander Skid both headed towards the door, making sure to not break Ensign Munson’s line of sight or interfere in his shot.  He felt a womanly hand swat his backside as Skid passed by, and was temporarily silenced by the surprise. 

“Well fought, boyo; but save the growlin for the bedroom, hmm?”

She looked over her shoulder briefly with a smirk as she sauntered off behind Kaz, and despite his anger at the frustration of his situation, Kanor couldn’t help appreciate the sway of those hips.  As the door shut behind the two, Kanor turned to glare at the unconscious Deltan on the floor.  Damn aphrodisiac-like pheromones.

                                                                           *****

When the doors reopened a couple of minutes later, Kanor was again introduced to another attractive human female.  While not overtly sexual like Commander Skid, this Doctor O’Neil was very pretty.  She had shoulder-length jet-black hair she had pulled back in a simple ponytail, and an average build; pale, delicate features, with faint lines near the corners of her blue eyes that seemed to indicate a jovial demeanor.  Indeed, the first thing she did upon entering was smile warmly in his direction, an expression that only seemed to increase her attractiveness.  He unwittingly found himself more at ease with his situation just by her being there.  Bedside manner-check.

“Well you’re certainly not the average guest we have aboard the Lady.”  She exchanged a glance with Ensign Munson, who nodded, before heading over towards him.  Her eyes darted around the room as she approached, quickly sizing up the situation.  Her eyes lingered on the Bolian, but she didn’t deviate from her course.  Stopping on his left (leaving a good clean angle for Munson, Kanor noted), she dropped to one knee, settled her med-case down on the floor, and started pulling out things she’d need right away.  She took his hand away from the puncture wound Kaz had given him on the neck first, and began chatting.

“I’m Doctor O’Neil, as I’m sure you’ve heard.  You can call me Marcie; I have a feeling we’re going to get along great.”

Kanor grunted.  “You’re here to fix me up; what’s to get along over?”

She grinned.  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll see each other quite a bit.”  She glanced down at his wrists as she cleaned the area on his neck.  “That eager to get your hands around someone’s neck?”

He couldn’t help but grin, and shoot a glance across the room at Munson; the security officer was still standing by the door, alert.  “I had to teach someone a valuable lesson.”

She actually laughed.  “Oh, Sh’lan certainly deserved it; I don’t think you’d find many on board who would disagree with you.”  She glanced over at the dead woman Skid had shot in the far corner.  “Especially since that population was reduced, too.”

Kanor mulled that, and the implications, over.  A ship with warring factions was very useful information.  “What did you mean, ‘the Lady’?  Isn’t this the Enterprise?”

“Oh, of course.”  Having cleaned and treated the wound, she slapped a self-adhering patch onto his flesh before moving on to his wrists.  “But she’s a Lady, with a capital ‘L’, the Enterprise.  We treat her like one.  At least, the best of us do.”  He noticed her eyes glance over at Sh’lan.  “Those who don’t, usually don’t last long on here; the Commodore makes sure of that.”

He hadn’t noticed it while she was working on his neck wound, but it seemed like every time her skin came into contact with his, he felt a distinct tingling sensation.  He didn’t like it, it made him uneasy.  He wondered why she wasn’t wearing gloves of some sort, but admittedly didn’t know much about modern medical practices.  He tried to ignore the unsettling sensation and focus on gathering intelligence.

“So, Commodore Kaz’s word is law on here?”

She laughed heartily, having pulled out some scanner device to investigate his left wrist.  “Oh, you’re cute; trying to fish for information in a roundabout fashion.  Very quaint.  Yes, we’re definitely going to get along well.”

He frowned at that reaction, which was only punctuated more vividly by that tingle again as she reached out to turn his hand over, moving her scanner along his palm.  “You seem to think I’m going to be on this ship for a while, and we’re going to be friends.  I can assure you, this won’t be the case.”

She looked up to meet his gaze, grinning.  “Of course not.  You work alone; it’s not like you’ve been feeling disconnected or lonely or anything.”

She was making assumptions based on his chosen line of work.  She had to have been briefed on him or something before arriving.  “Precisely.”

She pulled out another device and began circling it around his left wrist.  It meant she had to hold his hand and wrist area almost constantly.  He tried not to squirm.

“You should take it; I think you’d find yourself benefitting a lot from the situation, more than just financially.”  She finished mending his left wrist and let it go, finally, then changed a setting on her device.  Unfortunately, she then picked up his right hand to work there.

“What are you referring to?”

She finished with his right wrist quickly enough, and looked up at him with a smile as she put the last of her things away in her med-case.  A brilliant, disarming smile that was very unsettling; akin to the tactile tingling, even.  “And I really, really like milk chocolate.”

Without another word of explanation, she picked up her med-case and moved over towards the Bolian Ensign, who had been sitting with his back propped up against the wall staring at the dead Andorian in silence.  What the hell was that all about?

“Hey, Ash, it’s Doctor Sam.  How’re you doing, buddy?”

He scowled at the short woman’s back, confused.  Hadn’t she said her name was Marcie?  He shot another glance over at Ensign Munson.  The Ensign was looking right at him, expressionless, but attentive.  It didn’t seem like he was going to be zoning out or sneaking a nap in anytime soon.  He looked over at…the Doctor as she scanned the shocked Ensign and continued talking to him in comforting, soothing tones.  At least she knew what she was doing, apparently, as he felt physically fine, now. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a feel for the ship itself.  The red-alert klaxon had been silenced not long after Kaz and Skid had departed for the bridge, though the red indicator lights were still flashing.  He felt the slightest bit of inertia affecting him, and speculated the ship was engaging in some above-average maneuvers, though it was hard to tell without being more experienced in the ways it moved.  He needed to get out of here; he’d prefer to be on his ship, but the odds of escaping the Enterprise while it was engaged against a potential hostile were slim.  The bridge, then; at the very least, to see what was going on, and perhaps see into how the crew and their commanding officer handled the situation.

“I’m going to excuse you from duty, Ash.  Why don’t you head down to your quarters for now; I’ll contact you shortly and set up some time for you to talk with someone…”

He opened his eyes and looked over towards Kaz’s desk, where he had last seen the container with all of his weapons.  For the most part, they were easily replaced; that Varon-T, however, was something he wanted back; he’d be willing to risk dealing with Munson for it, certainly.

It wasn’t there, however.  He mentally replayed what had happened, but simply didn’t catch what Skid had done with it.  He had been trying not to pay much attention to her so he wouldn’t be distracted.  Couldn’t be helped, then.

He mulled on his next course of action, and just how different and customized the bridge of the I.S.S. Enterprise could possibly be.  He recalled the bridges on most Federation vessels as being separate modules specifically designed to be customizable to the specific mission parameters and preferences of the commanding officer.  It’d be pretty random what their layout up there might be.  The pirate ship he had a structural layout of before teleporting aboard; with this ship, there were too many variables to safely account for.  He turned his head to one side, trying to angle his face and arms to block view of his mouth without being too obvious as he whispered.

“Cypher, would I be able to bodyslide outside into the corridor?”

He glanced at Munson, trying to pass his positioning off as a casual, brief occurrence.  Munson’s eyes narrowed, and Kanor saw the man’s fingers tighten ever so slightly on his phaser rifle.

“Yes, I promise I’ll contact you, Ash.  Go ahead.”  the Doctor said.

“Affirmative.  I recorded everything during your journey through the ship.”

The Bolian ensign had gotten to his feet, and was making his way towards the door.  He’d have to cross Munson’s line of sight to get to it, and the Doctor had her back to him, packing up her med-kit so she could move over to the unconscious Deltan.  Now was the best chance he was going to get, and he’d have to move fast; they’d be able to track him too easily on his unique lifesigns alone.

“Hold on just a second, Ensign, let me…”

The Bolian continued right across the sight-path, oblivious to Munson’s attempt at trying to get him to stop so the guard could reposition himself.

“Bodyslide by one, corridor.  Now.”

“Dammit, Ikkig…!”

Kanor saw Ensign Munson shove the dazed Bolian out of the way, his phaser rifle held up and braced as he took aim, but the green light had already enveloped Kanor.  It’s telescoping brightness sucked Kanor out of the room, only to expand outside in the corridor and deposit him onto the deck.  Kanor leaped to his feet, checking for potential hostiles.  No other guards.  Again, poor security planning; he would have had multiple pairs of guards posted all along the length of this corridor.

He was at one of the junction of corridors, so he took off running towards the turbolift doors.  He hoped the turbolift wasn’t programmed to respond only to voice commands from crewmembers, though he doubted it would be.  He stepped through the swishing open doors, and turned to face them as they closed. 

“Bridge.”

The car didn’t move.  He frowned, looking off to one side in hopes of seeing a manual interface screen, and instead spotted the strange handles that ringed the circumference of the car.  He reached out for one of them, twisted it like he had seen Skid do earlier, and tried again.

“Bridge.”

The turbolift started rushing upwards, and Kanor reached for his armor to begin assembling a pair of crude blades from various innocuous-looking components of it’s design.  The red indicator light was flashing in here, as well; the ship was still on red alert.  Surely there would be guards posted on the turbolift doorways.  He wasn’t trying to take the bridge by storm, but he wasn’t going to be recaptured, either.  The car slid to a stop after a brief jaunt, and as the doors opened, he stood to one side of the entrance.

“…lorus, I really need some information on that thing!”

Kanor cautiously stepped out with one foot onto the bridge, remaining in the turbolift doorway as he quickly scanned the area.  Kaz was in a seat in the ringed area in the center of the bridge, with two people seated a few feet in front of him at the helm and navigation stations.  Beyond them, on the far side of the circular bridge, Kanor spotted Skid hunched over a set of consoles.  He didn’t let himself enjoy the view, as much as he wanted to.  It was easier to focus without that Deltan’s pheromones playing havoc with his hormonal levels.  A voice to Kanor’s immediate right spoke up.

“I am attempting to, sir.  However, whatever the hull is comprised of, it is proving to be resistant to our scanning techniques and equipment.  I am preparing a probe.”

Kanor glanced to his right, to the owner of the nearly emotionless voice.  At first, he thought the tall, dark-haired man with the full, impeccably trimmed beard was a Vulcan; he certainly had the ears.  But, with closer examination, Kanor realized he was a Romulan.

“Launch when ready, we need info.  Drei, still no response to our hails?”

On the other side of the bridge, at a station mirroring the one the Romulan sat at to his right, and to the left of another set of turbolift doors, the green-haired man with the chain in his ear Kanor had encountered in the corridor on his way to Kaz’s office, turned towards Kaz to respond. 

“Negative, sir; however, Ensign Muns…intruder on the bridge!”

Multiple faces whirled to look in his direction, following Drei’s gaze, and Kanor crouched down as he held his hands up, though he still clutched his makeshift blades. 

“I’m not here to attack!”  He sensed motion towards his right, and quickly shifted his body slightly towards the Romulan, who had gotten up from his chair and circled around his station.  Fast.  He carried himself well; a fighter, Kanor estimated.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”  Kaz pushed aside two sections on either side of his seat that seemed to be designed to keep him from being knocked out of it, and stormed towards Kanor, his eyes livid.  He stopped outside of Kanor’s reach, however.

“What the fuck are you doing on my bridge; we’ve got a situation right now, I don’t have time for this!”

Kanor edged a step back, narrowing the field of danger for incoming attacks.  “And I’m not here to interfere; but I won’t be put aside like some kreshnar.”

Kaz and Kanor stared each other down, each of them resolute, unyielding.  The Romulan officer looked back and forth between the two of them, waiting for some indication from his commanding officer on how he should proceed.

“Sir, I believe the vessel just sent a tight-beam transmission towards the pirate ship.”

Kaz’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t look away as he responded to Drei, the communication’s officer.

“The pirate ship?  Can you decrypt it?”

“Negative, sir.  It’s…difficult to even identify it as a communication signal; I’ve never encountered anything quite like it.”

Kaz frowned, his gaze still not wavering.  Kanor saw something flicker in those eyes, though; a decision made.  He gestured to his right at Kanor, and then turned to head back to his chair, his jaw clenched.  “Selorus, get that probe launched.  Skid, get our team back aboard from that raider.  Jax, once they’re home, back us off from the raider, nice and easy.”

Multiple “aye, sirs” followed Kaz’s rapid fire of orders.  The Romulan officer, Selorus, gave Kanor the once over before making a sound that indicated he wasn’t impressed.  He returned to his station, however, his fingers deftly moving across his console to prepare the probe.  Kanor, meanwhile, stepped to the left where Kaz had indicated, which seemed relatively out of the way.  He slipped his blades into the cuffs of his sleeves for now; easily accessible, but leaving his hands free.  He finally looked to the main viewscreen, and was unable to suppress his reaction at what he saw.

A massive…structure hung in space.  He assumed it was a ship, as it seemed to be moving, but it was outside all conceptions of a “ship” he had ever encountered, and was huge.  The center of it was comprised of an enormous ring; bigger in circumference than a small planet, possibly even a large one, it was hard to grasp just how big.  Jutting out from that ring, equally spaced all around, were…spikes, or booms of some kind.  They seemed to be trailing behind the ring almost like tendrils, but they appeared to be wider vertically.  Whatever the material used in constructing it made it difficult to see, or perhaps it was just the size; shadows from the system’s sun seemed to play over it oddly. He regained control of his wide-eyed and slack-jawed expression.

“Probe launched.” Selorus said.

Kanor glanced over at Selorus’ science station, trying to see if he could read any of the information on the Romulan’s screens, but he was too far away to make it out.

“I’m still trying to make sense of that transmission, sir, but…”  Drei’s long spiked hair didn’t even waver as the man shook his head.  “I can’t even lock down how it’s being transmitted.  There’s nothing in our computer to even start to correlate it to.”

Kaz seemed to take this all in stride as he sat in his chair, eyeing the construct on the screen.  “I need my people back aboard, Skid…”

The redhead looked up from where she had taken a seat at one of the engineering stations.  “Last person aboard now, sir.”

“Backing us off of the raider, one-quarter impulse.”

Kanor’s eyes moved to the individual who had spoken in front of Kaz, sitting at the left-hand station piloting the Enterprise.  He spotted a series of dark-colored spots along the side of the man’s neck, and realized it was the young, intent Trill he had encountered down below on his way to Kaz’s office.  He recalled Kaz referring to him as “Jax” a few moments ago.  It was much easier to keep track of all these names with faces to go along with them.

A woman spoke up from a station further along the curve of the bridge that housed Drei’s communications station and Skid’s bank of engineering consoles.  It was the last station along that left side, close to the viewscreen.

“Sir, they’ve activated a different kind of beam; it seems to be scanning the pirate’s ship.”

Kaz looked towards Selorus.  “Talk to me, Lieutenant.”

The Romulan shook his head.  “None of this is making any sense.  I cannot even determine what that ship is made of; there does not seem to be any localized power system at all.  I cannot even detect any lifesigns, though these readings are so…erratic, they could be there, and I just cannot recognize them as such.”

Kanor heard the turbolift doors to his left open up, and as he glanced over to see who it was, Ensign Munson stepped out, his phaser rifle held at the ready, his eyes flashing as they settled on Kanor.  Without thinking, Kanor swiftly moved in on Munson’s advance, stepped within his guard, and quickly clamped his right hand upon the precise set of nerves where Munson’s neck met his shoulders.  Munson’s eyes rolled up into his head as his body went limp, but Kanor took his weight, gently lowering the man down to the deck, away from the walkway.  He looked up to see Kaz watching him, having turned his chair around.  Kanor lifted his chin slightly, defensive.

“Better to remove a volatile element for the moment.  He’s unharmed; and, sadly, lacking in close quarters defensive training.”

“Sir, there’s some sort of energy buildup occurring along the ring!”  the woman near the viewscreen said.

Selorus chimed in from his science station.  “I am fairly certain it is quite destructive in nature!”

“Jax..!”

The pilot didn’t bother verbally responding to Kaz; the Enterprise banked rapidly, away from the strange structure.  The Enterprise’s engines surged with power as the rapid maneuver moved the large cruiser away, though how you could really get away from a thing so large was questionable.  The Enterprise’s viewscreen switched to display the view they had previously been using, only to see a coruscating blast of energy shoot out from somewhere along the ring structure.  It completely engulfed the pirate’s raider ship, and was quickly replaced by the telltale visual of a matter/antimatter explosion.

Kanor was stunned, as was everyone else aboard the bridge.  The sheer destructive force they had just witnessed was awe-inspiring, to say the least; to say nothing of the fact it had come from a singular...construct, in one shot.  A fleet of ships, perhaps, or maybe even a space station, all weapons firing…but not one shot.  Not that quickly, not that…spectacular.

Selorus broke the silence, his voice seeming to reflect what everyone else was feeling.  “I have lost the probe.  I…I think it was destroyed in that blast.”

“They’ve just painted us with that same type of…communicative-type beam they first used with the pirates.  I…”  Drei shook his head in frustration.  “I can’t even come close to figure out what they’re trying to say, if that’s what it is, let alone respond.”

Kaz’s jaw looked like it was going to grind itself into dust.  After a couple of quick beats of silence, he spoke, his voice clipped.  “Jax, get us out of here, maximum warp.”