Chapter 5
4th March 2631
Steer’s PleasurePalace
Laibok
Andoria
“Lay a finger on me, and I’ll make sure you never touch anything again. You got me?”
Her eyes fixed on the human who had just entered the whore house’s common room, Zoraya whispered softly to the Ferengi on his knees before her. His face pressed against her breasts, he could barely breath, let alone speak. Still, for extra emphasis, she twisted both of his lobes, her breath caressing his inner ear as she spoke again.
“Got it?”
She felt the Ferengi nod weakly, his sudden movement almost pulling both her breasts from the flimsy robe she wore. Letting go of his lobes, she stepped back into the shadow of the archway, checking the immediate area.
Damn, why now? This was her fifth night in Steer’s, and the first that one of the marks finally decided he wanted a piece of her. Just as her target walked in the room. Still, as she looked around, no one seemed to have noticed.
Jaspa smoke filled the air, the gloom hiding what had just happened from anyone else. Only her genetically enhanced eye sight had allowed her to pierce the haze and see her target enter the room. Those whores not already engaged, and close enough to have seen anything, seemed too glazed from the jaspa anyway.
I still have time, she told herself, moving forward.
Pushing through the jaspa haze as if through a curtain, she headed for her target, Casper O’Brien. While she had been busy with the Ferengi, the human had settled on one of the younger whores, an Andorian girl barely overage, with the ravaged body of a whore twice her age. Zoraya saw his left hand darting over her body while his other hand pressed against her neck. Three claws curled against her skin where his three middle fingers should have been, metallic nails glowering in the dim light. O’Brien’s little gift from the Syndicate.
“You know,” O’Brien was saying, “they say that pleasure and pain are two sides of the same coin.” He grinned, livid scar tissue pulled taut over his face. “What do you think?”
The girl – Zoraya couldn’t even remember her name – shook her head, pulling away from the crime boss. O’Brien wasn’t having any of it. He dragged her closer, pressing his claws harder against her neck and drawing a drop of indigo blood that hung, shiny and brilliant against her blue skin.
Zoraya tore her eyes away from O’Brien for a moment, catching the eye of another mark stood just behind her target. The little planetlight filtering through the boarded up windows sparked off of his green skin as he whispered sweet-nothings to a black-haired older whore whose breasts were almost tumbling out of her dress. His eyes met Zoraya’s and she nodded. He nodded back, once, then whispered something in the whore’s ear, sending her scurrying for the door. The Orion met de Vayre’s gaze again, then began to come at O’Brien from behind.
Her attention drawn back to O’Brien by a sudden intake of breath, Zoraya saw him draw a single line down the girl’s neck with his middle finger. Blue blood bubbled to the surface, the azure line criss-crossing with two others he had already had time to draw. Zoraya felt her gorge rise at the sight of his smile, her mind suddenly elsewhere, in another time and another place, watching another man smile… Her fists clenched.
“Why don’t you let her go, O’Brien?”
O’Brien looked up, as did the Andorian girl. To Zoraya’s surprise – and disgust – the whore glared at her.
“Why don’t you mind your own business, Bajoran?”
O’Brien, though, seemed intrigued. He stepped away from the whore, his clawed hand dropping slightly. The whore he had been torturing pouted, stepping closer and pressing her chest against him. O’Brien slapped her away absently, turning fully to face Zoraya.
Perfect. Now if Gril can just…
“And who might you be?” O’Brien asked, interrupting her train of thought.
The whore reached out for him again, glaring at Zoraya. “She’s nobody. Some refugee from Bajor, arrived a couple of days ago.”
Zoraya ignored the Andorian girl, her eyes locked with Fett’s. If she could keep his attention for another few seconds, Gril would be in place. She could see him coming closer, sliding an electric rod out of the inner pocket of his jacket.
A few more steps…
O’Brien looked her up and down, leering at her. He waved his disfigured hand in her direction.
“You want to take her place?”
Zoraya opened her mouth to spout some lust-filled nonsense, anything to keep him talking, when the whore screamed. She launched herself at Zoraya, fingers crooked like O’Brien’s claws. Her sudden attack knocked O’Brien off balance, just as Gril moved in to take him down. Zoraya just had time to see the rod glance off his shoulder, narrowly missing the back of his neck, and then the Andorian was on her, throwing her down to the floor. She felt pain as the back of her head struck the stone slabs beneath her, a surge of nausea rushing to her belly.
“I’ll kill you,” the Andorian screeched, her fingernails trying to gouge out Zoraya’s eyes.
Zoraya didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her legs around the Andorian’s back and flipped her over. Before the girl could get over her surprise, Zoraya cocked back her first and punched her, once, in the face. Bone snapped beneath her knuckles and blood spurted on the floor. The girl’s head snapped back, hitting the stone pavings, and her face and body went slack.
Shaking her fist in pain, Zoraya scrambled to her feet, the manteau tied around her neck ripping away, leaving her in nothing but the skimpy shift. Gril had not fared as well, she saw. He was down on the ground, green skin ripped and torn, bleeding from slashes to his forehead and cheek. O’Brien stood over him, his claw hand flexing.
Zoraya reached underneath her shift, pulling on a string and catching the tiny phaser she had tied to her thigh. The welcome weight settled into the palm of her hand. It only had enough battery for one, maybe two shots, but it should be more than enough.
She brought the weapon to bare, aiming at O’Brien’s back. As she pressed the firing stub, though, something collided with her arm. Her shot went wide, the phaser beam scoring the wall behind him. O’Brien looked up, saw the pistol and ran for it.
Turning wildly, Zoraya saw another whore, a Cardassian woman. She had thrown herself at Zoraya to save O’Brien.
What is wrong with you all? She swung her arm, catching the woman across the face with her phaser, sending her crashing to the floor. Zoraya spared the time it took to spit.
“Whore.”
Gril was on his feet and he joined Zoraya as she ran for the door out into the corridor. She saw O’Brien at the door as they burst from the room, his hand pulling frantically at the handle. She was pleased to see that the Ferengi whoremistress who owned this hole had kept her side of the bargain and locked it. She lifted her phaser, but O’Brien didn’t waste any time, launching himself across the hall for the stairs.
Not this time, she thought. Though adrenaline was telling her to take her shot, she held off. Tracking O’Brien’s course, she steadied her arm and pressed the stub again.
The red laser beam caught O’Brien square in the chest. For a moment, he seemed to pause in mid-air, caught by the beam’s phased energy. Then he dropped, crashing down five or six stairs and sprawling at the bottom.
“Come on,” she snapped, throwing the useless phaser away. Gril followed her as she ran over to O’Brien’s unconscious form.
“Give me the locator.”
A bang and a rattle. She looked up to see the door shake as some of the men O’Brien had brought with him threw themselves against it.
“Come on, come on,” she hissed as Gril searched through his pockets. Finally, he fished out a small circular disk and handed it to her.
Not wasting any time, she slapped the disk on O’Brien’s chest. Then she grabbed the comm badge Gril held out to her, tapping it with the same motion.
“Zoraya to
Babylon. Three to beam up.”
She felt the transporter beam surround her and pull her away just as the door caved in and O’Brien’s men burst into the whorehouse.
XXX
Three hours later, Zoraya turned away from the runabout’s controls and breathed a sigh of relief.
It had been a stressful hour as she piloted the
Babylonthrough the ion storms of Andor’s atmosphere, trying to stay hidden from the Imperial Navy’s sensor sweeps. Someone high up in the Empire wanted O’Brien back. Zoraya had never seen so many Andorian heavy cruisers dispatched to one place. Luckily, they didn’t seem to think anyone could actually survive in the gas giant’s violent atmospheric conditions, at least not for long. They had concentrated their search on the outer worlds of the Andorian system.
Still, they had had to sit tight for a while. She had only been able to leave the atmosphere fifteen minutes before and make a mad dash for warp, using the planet’s gravitational field to hide their escape. Now that they were finally on their way back to Federation space, with no pursuit in sensor range, Zoraya just hoped that the storms hadn’t damaged the engines.
“How’s our guest?” she asked as Gril joined her in the fore cabin. He held two cups of raktojino in his hands and he handed one to her as he sat down.
“Still unconscious. I pumped him full of drugs, he should stay out until we can hand him over to the interrogation team.”
“Good,” she said. “Speaking of which, I guess it’s about time we check in.”
Gril grunted as she keyed in the special comm frequency she had been given in her briefing. Moments later, the connection was established. A tall, white-haired Cardassian, wearing a well-tailored civilian suit, stared back at her.
“Ah, Agent Zoraya. How good to see you. Though I wasn’t expecting to see so much of you,” he leered, glancing at her skimpy shift.
“We have him, Commander,” Zoraya said without missing a beat. Lin Parmek had been her commanding officer in Starfleet Intelligence for almost five years now. He had never congratulated her on a mission well done, nor was he one to engage in pleasantries with his agents. She wasn’t going to justify not having changed out of her whore’s costume.
“Indeed. That is good news. He is… intact?”
“He’ll have a bit of a headache, but apart from that he’ll be fine.”
“Excellent. He may be the key to this whole mess.”
“This whole mess” was the reason Zoraya had been charged with capturing O’Brien. He was the only link between the Orion Syndicate and the Andorian Empire. The Syndicate had been selling the Empire top-secret information that they had been getting from someone within Starfleet, allowing the Andorians to seize three systems in the past four months. With the ‘cold war’ between the two powers rapidly escalating into a fully fledged conflict, Starfleet could ill afford a leak. Zoraya’s superiors obviously hoped O’Brien could lead them to the source.
“I hope so, sir. We should be arriving in Earth orbit in a few hours.”
“Actually, Agent Zoraya, I want you to head to Romulus instead.”
“Romulus?”
“Yes. I will have one of our stealthships waiting for you there. They’ll take Mister O’Brien off your hands and provide you with everything you need for your new identity.”
“My new identity?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say, Agent Zoraya?” Parmek asked. “Yes, a new identity. I have a new mission for you.”
“Yes, sir?”
“What do you know about the Laurentine Hegemony?”
“Not much, sir. Rumours. All that is officially known is that they seem to be masters of genetic manipulation, their entire fleet is made up of living starships, and they originally come from somewhere beyond the galactic divide. Beyond that, nothing has ever been confirmed.”
“Well, the Hegemony has offered to allow a Federation starship to be permanently posted at their Onyx space station on the border. Kind of a roving diplomatic presence. Officially, Starfleet has promised the Hegemony that no intelligence operation will be carried out, however… We have decided that an undercover operative could be very useful in case of… complications.”
“You want me to infiltrate the mission to this Onyx Station?”
“I believe that is what I am saying, yes, Agent Zoraya. We have created a very elaborate new identity for you. You will be assigned to the starship
Redemption, the vessel that has been chosen to represent the Federation at Onyx Station, as a junior science officer. I believe that you majored in xenobiology at the Academy?”
She nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Good. That should be perfect for your cover. I am transmitting all the information you may require to your runabout now. The commander of the stealthship
Bashir will have a full briefing for you when you arrive.”
“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”
“Oh and Agent Zoraya?”
“Yes sir?”
“Keep an eye on the
Redemption’s captain, alright? He… He may be a liability.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Parmek out.”
As soon as the screen went black, Zoraya turned to Gril. “What the hell is all that about?”
The Orion was grinning. “Sounds like someone up there likes you.”
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. She stood up and stretched. “Take the conn, will you, I’ve got to get out of these clothes.”
“That an invitation?”
She snorted. “You wish, Gril. Just get us to Romulus, ok?”
As she walked to the back of the runabout, she squirmed out of the loose fitting shift and thanked the Prophets for small mercies.
At least I’ll be wearing a proper uniform on this mission.
We'll be seeing much more of them as we go on.
NO thank you! 
) is as obnoxious as a Ferengi should be. All of these awkward alliances have me on the edge of my seat waiting for more. I remain totally awed that you like my story as much as you do, because so far, you appear to be a far better writer. Keep it up, this is great stuff!
