It was mid-afternoon by local time, and there were few customers in evidence - a group of Tellarites gathered around one table, two Romulans talking in a shadowed corner... and one small man with blue skin and white hair, nursing a drink, alone at the end of the counter.
He was the one who looked round and froze, when the doors swung open and the Orions came in.
There were four of them; two thugs, hands on their holstered disruptor pistols; a young matron-in-training, the kind they called a vixen... and the massive, burly form of a senior enforcer, nearly seven feet tall and with muscles like boulders. He held a tricorder in one hand. It looked like a toy.
"Troyian," he rumbled. The blue-skinned man twitched. The enforcer took a step forwards. "Your name is Shaltri, yes?" The blue-skinned man made no reply. "Yes. You are one of Kalevar Thrang's crew." Another step, and another. "We are looking for Kalevar Thrang. Where is he?"
Behind him, a cool tenor voice said, "Right here. Please don't break my engineer, I happen to need him."
The Orions turned as one. Kalevar Thrang stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his full lips.
"Thrang," said the enforcer. "You're to be taken alive, if possible -"
Thrang nodded, stepping into the bar. "Sounds fair to me."
The two thugs drew their guns and fired in one movement. Green light seared through the space where Thrang had been, just a moment before. He had a weapon in his hand, now. The snap and scarlet flash of sonic antiproton fire slashed across the air, once, twice. The two thugs dropped.
The vixen advanced with a sinuous, swaying motion, the haze of her control pheromones almost visible around her. Kalevar Thrang spared her one glance, then felled her with a backhand blow that sent her flying back, over a table, to fall in a moaning heap on the floor.
The enforcer had a gun out, now. Green light flashed at the same instant as red, and both men were illuminated in the electric glare of personal shields.
"All right," the enforcer growled. "Guess I'll have to stun you the old-fashioned way."
He moved with astonishing speed, lunging for Thrang with hands outstretched. Thrang sidestepped, caught one arm, twisted it. There was a wet crack of breaking bone. Thrang lashed out with one foot, catching the enforcer on the side of one knee. Bellowing with pain, the man crashed to the floor. Thrang was on him in an instant, his hands striking hard, accurate, scientific blows.
The enforcer's shouts subsided into strangled gasps. Kalevar Thrang stood.
"You were going to ask a lot of dull questions about how I broke your security." He reached into a belt pouch and drew out an isolinear chip. "This has a lot of the answers you want. Not all the answers, what would be the sport in that? But enough to be interesting." He dropped the chip on the floor. The enforcer's pain-filled eyes struggled to focus on it.
"Oh, and you were planning to exact a grisly revenge on me, too," Thrang added. "I'm afraid I don't have time for that, right now - and besides, you wouldn't be first in line." He grinned. "Not by a long way."
He turned and looked around. The bartender and the other patrons were either dazed by the vixen's pheromones, or simply keeping well out of the situation. Thrang nodded to Shaltri. "See? All according to plan."
"Right, boss." The Troyian stood. "What now?"
"Well," said Thrang, "I really do need you - we've got places to go, and soon. Looks like we're going to be busy for some time. Oh, and -" he grinned again "- make sure you dress warm."
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