Galaxy: Dar'ce/Gre'tala "Pawn in Play"
Michael Black
The businessman saw his anxiety, evident even in the disfigured face. He smiled.
"Don't worry, Miqu'elan, your secret is safe with me." The man came around the large wooden desk and leaned in close to the Xenonian. "I have a secret, too."
He got close enough that Miq could smell his cheap cologne and whispered in his ear. "I'm Douglas Tre'gata."
*****
Molan Gre'tala, or Douglas Tre'gata depending on the way you looked at it, watched as apprehension turned to surprise, then suspicion, and then resignation.
"You've known for a while who I am, and just now let me know it. That means that you have little intention of letting me return to my family." Miq laughed. "I should have figured my luck would run out sooner or later."
It was Molan's turn to laugh. "I know we have a bad history Miq. I also know that you are an honorable man. I will be sending you back to your family, but I want you to do me a favor first." He held up a hand to forestall any questions or refusal. "First, you don't have a choice. Only I know your true identity, and the good holo-doc I procured from Starfleet Medical a while back. She'll be giving you a full genetic makeover to make sure no one else finds out."
"Why? What do you want? You know that even if I don't try to take revenge that my family will. Even if I come out of this alive. If you are true to your word, and you send me back alive, my grandfather the Emperor will no doubt make your death worth more than the entire Syndicate."
"If your grandfather wants me I'll turn myself in! After you do this job for me." Molan went to a large screen embedded in the office wall and turned it on. A picture of two young girls, twins, with their parents was displayed. "This was my aunt and her husband. These are my cousins. The Lohanan Syndicate killed the parents and stole the girls for their slave trade. Close as they are to Orion territory, I was afraid they'd been taken there. Fortunately, they kept them close by."
He flipped the image to a new one. This was a split screen with a luxury space yacht and a well-dressed Lidron man. "This is Gorvelis'ugn. He is one of six lieutenants under Kaelin. He is very wealthy, and he has the morals of a dead rodent. He paid a fortune for the girls, because he thinks he can triple his money when they are old enough to be sold as sex slaves. They are still three years too young, even by Syndicate standards. I don't want them there that long. The last year has been too long."
Miq actually felt himself having sympathy for the man. Miq knew all about the political assassinations that had been going on, and despite their checkered past, even Douglas Tre'gata had not deserved having his entire family killed. Since he knew that this man was going to send him to the belly of the beast whether he cooperated or not, and Douglas knew that Miq would not reveal Molan's true identity for fear of revealing his own, he resigned himself to play along. The sooner he got on that ship and found the girls, the sooner he could get away from the ship and back to the doctors on Xenon. He was a long way from well, and the only thing keeping his illness at bay was the psi-dampener around his neck. He knew he would be wearing it for the foreseeable future, and he wanted it off.
He would do the job.
"First off, I'll do this because I deplore the exploitation of children and slavery in general. Second, those two jerks in the back were crew on the ship the syndicate sent to retrieve me, so they know who I am. If they are sold back to the Syndicate, they'll rat on me, you, and the guy that sold us to you. They could derail everything you're trying to accomplish."
"I have already sold those two to a mining operation on an L-class moon orbiting a gas giant out in the Vel'drar system. There's a shuttle meeting me in a few hours. I'll explain that they're desperate to get out of their situation and they've been making stories up. I've injected them with a retro-virus that will temporarily change their DNA profiles. By the time they can be read accurately again, they'll be deep in the mines. No one will believe them."
Miq digested this. Did he care what happened to those two? His mind storm upon capture had killed many people, crashing the ship into a dead moon. They were on that ship, and had pretty much sealed their fate when they abducted him. Capital punishment still existed in the Republic, and complicity in abducting a prince of Xenon was considered treasonous, a capital offense. They were dead men walking anyway, let them go.
"Fine, they might live a little longer in the mines than in the shadow of my grandfather's wrath. Do you have a plan, or are you hoping I can get you closer to the man?"
Molan sat back down in his chair after releasing Miq from his restraints. "My original plan was to sell the three of you to Gorvelis'ugn and try to beam them off his ship and then run like hell towards a Starfleet or Republic outpost. It never would have worked because his entire ship is equipped with transport inhibitors. He prefers using shuttles and docking ports to transporters himself. He will use them if he has to. This might pose a problem for you when you plan your escape."
"Show me the plans for the ship. My telepathy might be gone, but my photographic memory is still functioning. And this spy game of yours might not have been covered at the Academy, but Tactical school is a pretty good second."
As Molan brought up the schematics for the yacht, he said, "It's good you know how to fight, as well. I have it on good authority Gorvalis'ugn is looking for gladiators for the tournament coming up. He'll probably enter you in."
Miq was silent for several moments. He finished committing the schematics to memory and looked up. "I really hate you, Tre'gata. If I die, you WILL tell my family why."
"Yeah, I'll tell them you're a hero." Molan reattached the restraints and called for the guards. "This is why you don't have any friends, Miq."
To the guards he said, "Take him to the medical deck, the doc will know what to do. And good luck."
Miq was certain that last part wasn't meant for the guards.
--
-Michael-
"The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.' "
Ronald Reagan
40th president of US (1911 - 2004)