"So what have you brought me, Indar?"

The sparking smoke from the evening fire danced upwards into the deep blue evening sky. The three moons of Tikar glowed yellow high above the small mountain village. The Tikari warrior turned over the prone body lying on the earth in front of him with the toe of his roughly sewn leather boot to show the Trader captain the fruit of the day's chase. The prisoner rolled over awkwardly onto his bound arms in front of them, still unconscious. His black shirt and trousers were wet and covered in mud.

"You've excelled yourself this time, I must say," said Golland appreciatively, walking up and down alongside the body, turning his head to get a better look against the shadows cast by the fire. Even with the mud and scratches on his face, the prisoner's thick dark hair and regular features were pleasing.

"He's one of yours," said Indar with a sneer, tapping his boot against the young man's face.

"Mine?"

"A Terran."

"Hmmm… yes. Eastern European by the looks of him. You've brought me a good-looking one for a change." Golland looked accusingly at the Tikari, remembering previous deals he had made with the tribesman.

"And young…" added Indar, showing his rotten teeth in a vicious grin in an attempt to smooth the inevitable up-coming complaints. "You could do with one that can take the punishment you give them on your ship."

"Yes, not like the last one," grumbled Golland, putting his hand up to Indar's chest to push past him to continue his survey. "He was thin, had constant toothache and only lasted a few months. He did nothing but complain till the moment he died – which was due to his own stupidity, I might add. I give you a lot of weapons for these prisoners. Good ones too. Do you know how hard it is to get your hands on Starfleet weaponry – even the old stuff?"

Indar looked out with a bored expression to the surrounding darkening hills beyond the village and opted to sigh loudly by way of a reply. He'd had this argument with Golland a hundred times. The deal was simple: Indar captured prisoners to give to Golland in exchange for weapons he and his fighters could use to combat the government of Tikar. Golland was a successful mercenary in this sector and what he did with them after that and how they were treated was none of his concern. He stared out across the centre of the village to the houses beyond as Golland continued to grumble. He watched a group of children playing a warlike game and sniffed the air for signs of cooking coming from the small wooden houses with their twinkling lights. The aroma of roasting meat wafted on the air. He wanted this deal to be done quickly so he could get on with his evening.

Golland ignored Indar's disdain and squatted down, taking the young man's chin in his large, grubby hand and pulled his head from left to right, looking for signs of injury. He prodded at his arms. "Strong shoulders," he muttered to himself. "Slim… looks fit enough." He looked up at Indar, who turned his thoughts away from his rumbling stomach to nod with a little more enthusiasm than his previous sigh had suggested. "From a starship? Makes a change from the usual locals you give me."

"He was part of a delegation with a Federation Ambassador. We couldn't get the ambassador or the captain, but this one we managed to track down." He nodded back towards the forested mountains. "I can assure you he's in good health. It took us most of the day to catch up with him. We ambushed the delegation as soon as they arrived. They managed to beam back up to their ship but Indush brought this one down before he could join them. He ran off into the forest. It took us most of the day to capture him. He's cunning and as fast as a tallabuck."

"Good… good." Golland stood up and wiped his hands down the front of his jacket, appreciating the comparison with the region's native deer. "That's what I want. I'll give you 700 Klingon rifles for him."

Indar's heavy eyes opened a little from their usual disinterested glare. He leaned forwards. "Did I mishear you, Golland? Did you say 1200 rifles and 500 Starfleet phasers?"

Golland clapped an over-friendly arm around Indar's shoulders, making him shake on the spot. "Look at him," he said, drawing out the words. "He's just a boy. He's not worth that much, no matter how young and pretty he is." His eyes looked at Indar with cunning out of his scarred and time-worn face.

"Your number two will like him," growled Indar, shaking the arm off and stalking away a little. "He'd give a thousand rifles for one like that,"

Golland gave a loud laugh. "Haddad can look, but he can't touch. That's not what I want him on board for. Come on now. Because I'm in a good mood I'll give you 800 rifles and 200 phasers.

"800 rifles, 500 phasers," scowled Indar, clutching his phase rifle to his chest and fingering the trigger.

Golland pursed his lips. He had a potential bargain on his hands with this prisoner. Anyone from a Starship was a good catch and didn't come around very often. They were difficult to break in, but once you had, it was well worth it. Sometimes they needed neurological 'treatment' to make them forget their past lives, but the sector was teaming with illegal surgeons looking to make an easy profit. He knew one who owed him a favour. If you were really lucky, you could ransom them back to the Fleet, but that involved extra risk. It didn't seem likely that the youth at his feet was anyone special, but it was always worth trawling through a captured database to see who was who or if they were related to anyone interesting. He gave Indar another sideways glance. The Tikari had been known to kill his prisoners on the spot if he thought he wasn't going to get the right price for them. Golland didn't want to let this one slip through his grasp. He looked up at the blackening sky. It was late.

"Oh, alright then. 800 rifles and 500 phasers," he said reluctantly. "Call your men and take him to my shuttle."

Indar set off towards the houses, shouting to the children to fetch some men. They scurried inside and a few minutes later several more warriors appeared in front of the houses. Golland watched as Indar spoke to them and organised them to pick up the prisoner. They man-handled the young man by his arms and legs and set off after Golland as he made the short walk to the edge of the village where the shuttle was located. He felt reasonably satisfied. It had been a good trade. A Starfleet crewman was worth much more than a few second-hand, decommissioned weapons. He watched as they laid the boy on the floor in the shuttle and filed out. He held his hand up to Indar in parting.

"I'll drop the weapons off tomorrow," he shouted out of the hatchway. Indar nodded and turned away.

Golland pressed the button to close the door. It shut with a heavy, cell-like clang.