Innok Gaz’s personal shuttle was a little larger than a standard Federation runabout but exceedingly more comfortable—for Gaz at least. He had a large room at the back, with a comfortable bed and space to entertain, whilst the eight others onboard had to share bunks. Aleska had been ordered to accompany him as he went to meet a Ferengi Daimon who was looking to make inroads into a sector Gaz already had the monopoly of. The meeting had been set for a trading outpost carved into the centre of an asteroid, a neutral base that neither side had claim to. They had agreed to travel there by shuttle and, when they met, limit their party to five members.
Gaz was taking Rahkata with him, as well as two guards and Aleska, who would be posing as a slave—seeing as how none of his actual slaves were tactically minded, combat trained and battle hardened (plus her physical attributes would most likely distract one or two of the Ferengi delegation). They were just about to touch down at the outposts landing pad, so she was waiting to take her position—seeing as how getting ready had taken only a few minutes. Her attire consisted of little more than three bands of leather; the thinnest around her neck like a leash, the largest loop was around her groin and buttocks, whilst the middle-sized piece was around her chest, whilst her feet were bare. She shivered in the chill of the shuttle.
With so little on she couldn’t hide a weapon on her person, so she would have to rely on her skills at hand-to-hand and the abilities of the others. It had been two months since she had claimed Ogrokt’s right eye, after which there was no one in Gaz’s employ that doubted her ferocity in a fight. Her maiming of the Nausicaan brute had also earned her a new level of respect—and also some fear—among many of the thugs and ruffians onboard the
Tahiir K’tal.
The shuttle landed with a thunk and a whine as the engines powered down. She got off the bunk and headed for the staging area, her bare feet padded on the cool metal deck. Kravok, the rugged young Klingon who’d replaced Zy-Korr on her crew, and Vrat, another Red Orion with a neatly trimmed goatee, were already present, clutching their rifles. As she entered, both of their attentions were fixed on her.
She planted her fists on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas, I have no qualms about castrating the both of you with just my nails.”
Kravok looked away quickly, once again showing his youth and inexperience when it came to females. Vrat’s eyes lingered until Gaz and Rahkata entered the staging area. Whilst the Kobliad checked in with the cockpit, Gaz took the opportunity to circle around her, his sharp eyes taking in every curve, nook and pore of her naturally-tanned skin. In the four months since she’d started working for him, this was the most exposed she had been in his presence and it was the longest he had also spent looking at her body.
When he’d done three full circuits, he came to a stop in front of her, nodding. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.”
She obediently bowed her head. “Thank you, Master.”
He laughed at her soft voice and subservient manner, both flying in the face of what he’d undoubtedly come to expect from her. Gaz then glanced at D’ana (the identity Aleska herself would be assuming for the task at hand), the actual slave he’d taken with him, and shooed her away. She would be remaining onboard with the two cockpit crew and final guard, who would ensure the safety of Gaz’s shuttle until he returned.
“Nass reports that he tracked a Ferengi shuttle land at the pad three levels below. That puts the designated meeting point equal distance from both ships. We’ve set up our transporter scramblers and so have they; with both active fields communications and scanners may also be affected.”
“Very well,” was all he replied, and then gestured for Kravok to lead the way.
After disembarking, the sounds and smells of the outpost hit her. Such places were where the exotic and illegal could be bought and sold openly in the streets, since the outpost administrators and security were all on the take. They made their way through the throng of people, past venders and merchants, window shoppers, customers and buyers, all talking and shouting over one another to be heard.
She snuck glances when she could, but for the most part she kept her head down and followed in Gaz’s wake as any good slave would, ready to attend to his wishes. Passing a few traders, she did notice one or two taking an interest in her, before lashing one of their own slaves who stepped out of line or whimpered.
At the sight of the brawny Klingon and ruby red Orion carrying heavy disruptor rifles the crowd parted for them, though others were more intimidated by Gaz himself, knowing him by reputation is nothing else. Among the dregs of the sector, Gaz really did look like royalty, dressed in the finest Tholian silk and impeccably groomed. But beneath his polished exterior was a man of such cruelty and violence the contrast was truly startling.
It didn’t take them long to secure a turbolift and get down to the level they needed. The meeting had been set to take place in a burnt out bar, offering them privacy from all others on the outpost. They reached the location first, finding it in worse condition than they’d initially been told, however a makeshift table had been set up and there were some boxes on either side for the delegates to sit. Kravok and Vrat stood next to their entrance, opposite which was the only other door into the bar that the Ferengi would use. Gaz sat, with Rahkata on his immediate right and Aleska a step back on his left. She stood ready to hand him refreshments or a PADD or whatever else he might need, keeping her eyes lowered she didn’t look up when the second door opened and the five Ferengi entered.
The Ferengi scampered inside, their movements skittish and disorganised. Without moving her head she afforded them the slightest of glimpses. Of the three that entered first, two were carrying rifles and the third a hand phaser, all of them swept the room, picking out the Orion kingpin’s delegation and checking the remains of the blackened bar in a haphazard and chaotic manner. The two with rifles were not trained soldiers. They reminded her of children playing at being mercenaries. Though the one in the middle definitely seemed more switched on to what he was doing, his eyes went straight to Gaz and Rahkata, then to her, then to the guards, before returning to the only seated member of their delegation. The show went on only for a few moments, before the one in charge glanced back at the door.
“Ready Daimon.”
The man in charge entered a few seconds later, with the last of their group, a towering and powerfully built Xindi-Reptilian. Daimon Likk swaggered inside, an energy whip swinging from his belt, brimming with confidence and smugness, whilst his bodyguard remained close. Unlike the two amateur Ferengi, the Xindi was a pro. Without moving his scaly head his eyes flicked around the room, assessing it in seconds, taking note of their groups’ position and weaponry. His movements were precise and measured, though the muscle mass of the man told her that he was capable of very quick and strong movement. She had to wonder if he had been with Likk for long, or if he had just been hired for this particular job.
Her eyes flicked back to the deck, so as to not draw any unwanted attention to herself, at the same time she felt the two rifle-carrying little trolls leering at her. The one they had entered with was ignoring her, focusing on Gaz and Rahkata, as was the Xindi. Likk on the other hand took a moment to eye her up, licking his lips in an unsavoury manner, before sitting—his name was definitely appropriate.
“Ahmet.”
“Daimon.”
The introductions didn’t go any further. Both men sat staring at one another for several minutes. Everyone else in the charred room remained quiet, watching for what would happen next. It was the Ferengi that cracked first, under Gaz’s intense amber stare, glancing down before clearing his throat.
“We had better get down to the matter of business.”
“Of course,” Gaz replied with a charmingly savage smile.
The discussions began. It was clear from the first five minutes that neither side was willing to give on his demands. Gaz’s interests and holdings were vast in the region, his influence and powerbase strong and robust, the mere mention of his name and threat of retribution from his forces enough to bring others in line, however he also lacked the capacity to push out much further, less he loosen his control over the systems he did business in, which could threaten his dominance over them and invite others to challenge him. Likk, who was escaping the reforms being introduced in the Ferengi Alliance, had little in the way of acquisitions but did have added manpower, however he wasn’t looking to someone else’s servant but a master of his own domain.
It went back and forth for over two hours without any progress, even as both tried to tempt the other with hollow promises and assets. To all present it was quickly becoming clear that the situation would not be resolved anytime soon, if even at all. She was surprised that Gaz had lasted as long as he had without slicing the Ferengi’s throat from lobe to lobe, but then again he was after what the Daimon possessed, which he would not get if Likk was murdered.
As tempers flared and voices became heated, Rahkata stepped in. “Perhaps we should pause for refreshment, Ahmet.”
Gaz took a deep breath and nodded. “D’ana.”
She gave a nod then turned to the case they had brought with them. Inside was a selection of beverages and foodstuffs, all of Gaz’s favourites, for him to enjoy and offer his rival—not that she suspected he would accept. It took her moments to prepare two glasses of Zillian twilight brandy and a small platter of finger foods, but once done she took it to Gaz first, bowed and offered him the tray. He accepted one of the glasses and took one of the Andorian lobster legs, before waving his hand at her to take it away.
Slowly, she rounded the table, making no movements that could be considered hostile or threatening. Once at Likk’s side she offered him the tray. The smell of the podgy little man was nauseating, like festering milk, made worse by the looks he was giving her. He reached out his hand, not for the tray but instead gripped and squeezed her left buttock, salivating as his sweaty little hand caressed her smooth flesh. She didn’t react, remaining still and continuing to offer the tray—many slaves, Gaz’s included, were often groped and manhandled on a regular basis, so the touch of strangers on their owned skin was part of their existence. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gaz watch her intently. She had to maintain the ruse up until things fell apart and she would be needed to help defend him.
“I must say, Ahmet Gaz, you do have some exquisite taste,” Likk stated, whilst almost burying his face between her breasts. “What was your name again?”
She looked over at Gaz, who gave her the slightest of nods, permitting her to speak. “D’ana sir,” she whispered meekly.
He squeezed her cheek again, before moving his hand down her thigh. Had she not been ready for it, he would’ve felt her skin crawl as he pawed at her. She had to fight all of her natural impulses, which included, but was not limited to, shattering every bony in his fat little hands. But for now she was not Aleska but D’ana, an identity she needed to use just in case Likk or his people had heard her real name in passing—a long shot to be sure, but one best avoided.
After several long moments of fondling her nearly-naked body, he seemed to suddenly remember that she what she was offering wasn’t to be found on her skin. He looked at the tray then at Gaz, who had finished the lobster leg and was sipping on the brandy. Likk took the glass but turned his bulbous nose up at the food. Gaz snapped his fingers and she returned to his side, offering him the tray once again. He took a couple other items to snack upon and waved her away. She set the tray back down and resumed her stance, wanting nothing more than to have a high-pitched sonic shower to make herself feel clean once again.
Likk sniffed the glass, before sipping it tentatively. He waited for a moment, sloshing the expensive alcohol around his mouth before swallowing. Satisfied that it wasn’t poisoned, he sipped again. It was only after they had both finished their drinks that the meeting continued.
From the outset they were arguing again, going over the same ground they had already covered, still neither willing to give a micrometre. As things dragged out, it became obvious that the two Ferengi guards were bored and were becoming distracted, but Likk, his aid and bodyguard remained focused, even as the negotiations entered their fifth hour.
Emotions boiled over again, causing Likk to push himself to his feet and lean forward, snarling, “I can have this outpost surrounded by marauders in minutes! They would obliterate you as you even attempted to flee, then I would just take what I wanted from you!”
Gaz’s savage smile returned. “And I have enough bilitrium and thalmerite on my ship to destroy everything within ten million kilometres, including a fleet of Ferengi marauders. However, that won’t be necessary.” He looked at Rahkata. “I’d say that would be long enough, wouldn’t you?”
“More than sufficient.”
Likk looked from Gaz to Rahkata, his anger turning to confusion. The Xindi-Reptilian tensed, sensing impending violence.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” Likk demanded. His eyes then flicked to the glass. “You poisoned the brandy? Huh, it won’t work—my physician gave me an antigen to break down toxins!”
Gaz gave a single, humourless laugh. “Do you know how expensive Zillian twilight brandy is? Why would I waste it just to poison the likes of you?
“Tell me Daimon,” he continued, leaning forward slightly, “have you heard of nanites?”
A look of horror crossed his face; clearly he knew what Gaz was talking about. Taking that as his cue, Gaz continued. “Right now they are circulating through your entire system, inert for the time being, however if I enter a single command onto this,” he patted the control gauntlet on his left arm, “they will activate and begin attacking every cell in your miserable little body.
“So you have two choices,” he declared after a dramatic pause. “Either you can withdraw from this sector entirely—and I mean entirely, if I learn of even a cargo shuttle encroaching on my space I will have an operative get close enough to you to activate the nanites—or you can agree to work for me, which would give you a fifteen percent cut of every job you did for me.”
“What?” Likk exclaimed. “That is an outrage!”
“Those are your only options, Daimon. Choose.”
Likk glanced at his aide, who looked dumbfounded. He looked back at Gaz. “I don’t believe you! If you wouldn’t taint your brandy, how could you have gotten the nanites into my system?” he challenged.
“Tell me, Daimon, did you like D’ana? Her skin is so soft and luxurious wouldn’t you say?”
Realisation dawned on the Ferengi’s face, as she raised her head and looked him in the eye, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Gaz had known that Likk wouldn’t be able to resist copping a feel of her, so before they had left the
Tahiir K’tal she had been exposed to the nanites—which had been programmed to lay dormant on her skin until they came into contact with Ferengi DNA. Once activated, they would swarm to the point of contact, transfer from her body to his, then bury into their target and enter the bloodstream, where they would deactivate once again—awaiting the signal that would begin the slow and excruciating death of their host.
“Well?” Gaz pressed, obviously relishing the power over the Ferengi that he now held.
