The tall Gorn walked through the crowd at the bar as if they did not exist, and did so with such assurance that no one thought to challenge him. His scales were a deep blue-black, his draconian eyes a brilliant yellow-green. Behind him stalked another figure, a Ferasan warrior, his face dramatically marked with clan tattoos. The Gorn wore anonymous civilian leathers, and carried no weapons save a ceremonial knife at his belt... but he moved in a way which left onlookers in no doubt that he himself was a weapon.
He found a vacant table and seated himself. The Ferasan stood beside his left shoulder, teeth bared and whiskers bristling. The Gorn accepted a mug of raktajino from a waiter, and sat in silence, sipping occasionally, the gaze of his brilliant eyes roving over the other patrons; scantily clad Orions of both sexes, Klingon warriors drinking and brawling, a group of Ferengi clustered at one table and cringing out of the way of everyone....
"General Ssurt. Greetings."
The speaker wore leather clothing every bit as undistinguished as the Gorn's, and his face, too, was a leather mask in which red eyes smouldered. The Lethean pulled a chair up to the table and sat down. Ssurt inclined his head slightly.
"I am glad to see that I have your interest," the Lethean said smoothly. He put a datapad down on the table. Ssurt glanced at it, but made no move to pick it up.
"You are an intermediary," the tall Gorn said.
"Of course," said the Lethean. "My principals wish to remain discreet. It is, I think, in everyone's interests that they should not be identified." Some expression crossed his mask-like face; it might have been anger. "There is really no need, nor point, in your bringing another telepath to this meeting. Your Ferasan will not be able to glean anything of value. I do assure you of that."
"R'kirr is here to protect my mind," said Ssurt, "not to probe yours. Your principals have an interesting proposition, I will grant that."
"You have, of course, verified their financial status?"
"I have. A princely sum. It commands my interest... but not, as yet, my cooperation."
"Payment would be in dilithium and pergium ore. Not only princely, but effectively untraceable."
"So I notice. Who has such quantities on hand, though? It is a question I must ask myself." The Gorn leaned forward in his seat; one clawed hand came down on the datapad. "As a matter of simple self-preservation, it is best for me to understand the situation fully before I commit myself."
The Lethean sighed noisily. "As a matter of self-preservation, General, there are areas where you should cherish a deliberate ignorance. The mission is one which, technically speaking, violates the armistice - and my principals are, technically speaking, at odds with the Empire to some extent. The nature of the mission, you must know; the nature of your employers, it is best not to."
"I doubt very much," said Ssurt, "if your employers have sufficient dilithium and pergium to pay me to act against Imperial interests."
The Lethean made a dismissive gesture. "Today's interests are one thing," he said, "tomorrow's could be quite another. Besides, do the interests of the Empire and the Gorn Hegemony... entirely coincide? Take my offer, General, and the Hegemony could earn itself a powerful friend. Through you. The gratitude of King Slathis might be worth a whole system full of pergium."
"I am a loyal servant of King Slathis and the Empire," said Ssurt.
"Of course. Who could doubt it?" The Lethean made to rise. "I take it that this interview is concluded, then?"
He reached for the datapad, but Ssurt's hand still rested on it. "The sum is... substantial, though," said the Gorn.
The Lethean settled back down into his seat. "Then may I, at least, outline the nature of the task?"
Ssurt gave a minimal nod.
"It is simple in concept. My principals desire the companionship of a particular Starfleet officer. You are to obtain her for them. We imagine she might object, hence the necessity to... quash her objections."
"And that requires the services of my full battle group?" said Ssurt.
"Your resources should be more than equal to any contingency," said the Lethean. "My principals merely wish to be... entirely sure... of success. They desire her company most urgently. Most urgently indeed."
"And they offer money," said Ssurt.
"And, General, with the armistice, your raids into Federation territory must be curtailed. I offer a replacement source of income."
"A substantial sum," said Ssurt, "but, when reckoned against the operating expenses of my entire flotilla... not perhaps as substantial as one might think, at first glance."
The Lethean sighed. "I have some authority to negotiate," he said.
"You have named a sum," said Ssurt. "Double it, and that may prove... acceptable. Subject to my review of your target, of course."
The Lethean winced. "It will be - difficult," he said. "My principals' resources are not inexhaustible."
"But they desire this officer most urgently," said Ssurt. "How urgent is their desire, compared to their resources?"
"It... may be possible," said the Lethean. "I will seek my principals' approval."
"Do that," said Ssurt. "I will be interested to know who the target is. Admiral Quinn himself?"
"My principals do not aim so high," said the Lethean. He stood. "Also, Quinn is not, I believe, a female."
"Ah, quite," said Ssurt. "They desire her companionship. I am intrigued, I will admit it. For the sum you mentioned, they could have bought whole continents full of Orion slave females...."
"I do not believe desires of that kind figure in my principals' considerations." The Lethean shook his head. "I will obtain approval from them. If the price is acceptable, I will transmit in the agreed code, on the agreed frequencies. You can then signal your acceptance - or refusal - in the same manner. I hope you will accept, General."
"I will consider the matter carefully." Ssurt plucked the datapad off the table, and turned his yellow eyes towards it. The Lethean waited a moment, then turned and walked away.
"Scum," said R'kirr.
"Naturally," said Ssurt. "Did he try anything? And, if so, did he succeed?"
"Of course," said the Ferasan, "and of course not. Your mind is safe from his prying, General."
"Good," said Ssurt. He turned his head slightly, looking towards the group of Ferengi. One of them caught his gaze, and made a sketchy gesture with one hand.
Ssurt made a satisfied noise. No Lethean telepath could read a Ferengi mind... and the Ferengi had succeeded in planting a tracking device. Telepaths, thought Ssurt. They are so confident in their own skills... they forget, or they disdain, the simple physical arts of espionage.
If R'kirr read the thought in his master's mind, he did not speak to contradict it.
"So," Ssurt said aloud, "soon, we shall be better informed. That is good. It is always best to know exactly who the players are, in any game."
He turned his gaze back to the datapad, to the image of a human female's face. A pale, gaunt face, with one eye covered by a Borg implant.
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