Fallout 15

The atmosphere aboard the DujHod Chariot was tense, and more than a little foul. Tayaira carefully refrained from wrinkling her nose. If only Klingons and Nausicaans - especially Nausicaans - could be persuaded to bathe more regularly....

"Still nothing," reported Warrior Ch'gama from the comms station. Tayaira sighed, and stared out of the viewport, towards the blue-grey bulk of the planet Mageptis. They had been in orbit, now, for some twenty hours... in transit from the QIb laH'e''s hiding place for another thirty... and not one of the Klingons had thought to wash in all that time.

"I think we must give up on this one, too," she said. She consulted her datapad. "Try Factor Cysitra Cira'tenis, at the Galpor spaceport. Transferring codes to your console now." She touched the pad, made the necessary connections. The list of former contacts of the House of Sinoom was looking perilously thin, now.

"Transmitting comms request," said Ch'gama. Beside him, the newly-minted Lieutenant Jikkur sat silent in his Nausicaan bladed armour, his red eyes watchful. Tayaira had thought long and hard about including him on this mission, had decided in the end that she could watch him aboard the Chariot just as effectively as Klur could aboard the ship... and that, if he proved disloyal, he could do less damage here than back on the QIb laH'e'.

"Request sent, response pending -" Ch'gama's head jerked up. "I have something!"

"On screen."

The face that appeared on the Chariot's viewscreen was green and hairless, with wide shimmering eyes and a headcrest that unfolded as Tayaira looked, and flushed with a multitude of colours. She had never known what species Cysitra was, had never thought to ask. "Tayaira!" the factor said in a fluting voice. "Well, this is a pleasure unlooked for."

"It has been too long since I last visited this world," said Tayaira. "Is all well with you?"

"My life is full of joys and travails, as is every life," said Cysitra. "How may I oblige you, lady of the House of Sinoom?"

"For a start, we require landing clearance. Traffic control around Mageptis has grown strict."

"A most regrettable consequence of the war. You command, I see, a Klingon Chariot? I am intrigued. They are normally allocated to respected commanders...."

"I obtained it from a respected commander. You should not enquire too closely into the circumstances."

"Nonetheless, we are technically in Federation territory and you are technically an enemy vessel. But arrangements may be made. Your other needs, lady?"

"I have an encrypted isolinear chip whose contents need secure transmission on a particular subspace frequency."

"May one speculate as to the contents?"

"One may. I often do myself."

"I see." Cysitra's headcrest faded to pastel colours. "I deeply regret, of course, that the credit of the House of Sinoom is no longer what it was. In these trying times of ours -"

"It is natural that you should require payment in hard cash, in advance." Tayaira reached into her belt pouch, brought out a sparkling red crystal, held it up to the screen. "Kinarian flame jewels. Non-replicateable, and difficult to obtain in the Federation, due to the war. I have... a sufficiency." A very small, hard-won, personal reserve... she only hoped it would be enough.

"Such beauty," Cysitra sighed. "Certainly, also, payment hard enough to meet the most stringent requirements."

"Better payment than you might expect from the Federation," Tayaira said. "They pay only in promises and goodwill."

"How true. Let me make appropriate arrangements." Cysitra looked to one side, at something out of Tayaira's field of vision. "One moment. There. I am transmitting clearances now for your approach to a private landing pad. You will encounter no difficulties. Once there, we will arrange for the fulfillment of your other requirements, lady. Clearances and coordinates are being transmitted on our data channel even as we speak."

Tayaira looked down at her command console. "Confirmed. We will speak, then, in person, within the hour."

"My joy at that will know no bounds. Until that time, then." The screen went dark.

"That went well," said Ch'gama.

"You think so?" said Tayaira. "Let us make some arrangements, for contingencies that may arise."

The shuttlecraft dropped through the murky air of Mageptis.

---

Cysitra's landing pad was on the fringes of the Galpor spaceport, next to a pressurized dome that served as the factor's business office. The alien was there on the pad to greet them, robes fluttering in the cold wind that blew on the world's surface. In the bleak, industrial setting of the decrepit port, she looked exotic, out of place.

"Such a pleasure to see you once more in the flesh," she said, taking Tayaira's hand in hers. Her fingers were moist and webbed; the touch was clammy, but Tayaira steeled herself not to shudder or recoil. "Let us go to my private office, where we may arrange your most pressing business. Your valiant crew may amuse themselves, no doubt?"

"Of course," said Tayaira. She turned to the others. "Wait while our business is transacted," she said. "Explore the port, by all means, but do not stray out of communication range."

"There is much here to divert," said Cysitra, "though Galpor may appear less than aesthetic. Let us repair within." And she led Tayaira to the dome.

Inside, it was cool, humid, and brightly lit, the walls painted with abstract designs in colours that soothed the eye. "Will you take refreshment?" Cysitra asked. "I have spirits and elixirs from all over the galaxy in my private supply."

"Perhaps later," said Tayaira. Was there something different about the alien's face? "I must attend to my most immediate needs, first." She held up her hands. In her left, she held the isolinear chip Klur had given her - the one he said would get them rescued. In the other, the flame jewels glittered. Cysitra caught her breath.

"By all means," she said, "business first." She led Tayaira through a doorway, to a communications console. "This subspace communicator should meet your needs."

"Eminently suitable," Tayaira said. She sat down at the machine, slotted in the datachip, and keyed the transmission sequence. "Confirmation will be registered directly," she said, turning her head to look at Cysitra.

"I am gratified to be of assistance," said the alien. Was there something about her speech, too? Tayaira thought hard.

Her nose. That was it. Cysitra's nostrils were... distended, and fixed. She was wearing some sort of nose plugs. Most likely, Tayaira thought, filters against Orion pheromones. And that meant she expected a pheromonal attack....

Unobtrusively, Tayaira tapped at her wrist communicator, sending the prearranged short sequence of pulses. The one that meant betrayal.

"Is there someone outside the door?" she asked, though she had heard nothing. She had heard nothing, but as the alien's headcrest turned white and folded down, she knew she had guessed correctly.

"Ah," said Cysitra sadly, "I had hoped to avoid unpleasantness. But you must realize that the gratitude of the Federation is, perhaps, harder currency than you might think."

"Oh," said Tayaira, "I understand completely." Her hand dropped to the top of her boot, to the disruptor pistol concealed there. "It is simply a matter of good business, after all."