Author's note: I know you're all agog. So here's a little more for your delectation...
Waking was unpleasant, but then he'd expected that it would be.
In a more theatrical world, he'd have regained consciousness loaded with chains and possibly incarcerated in some noisome dungeon with damp and the local equivalent of voracious rats. As it was, he was seated in an armchair that was comfortable enough, if not proportioned for a human body, and he was not bound in any way.
Except in that there was a bulge in the front of his trousers that didn't signify he'd chosen an odd moment to get an erection, but rather the fact that someone would really rather he didn't cause any trouble, because if he did that might oblige them to trigger some sort of small but extremely unpleasant detonation.
Careful not to make any move that might possibly be misconstrued as an intention to cause any trouble whatsoever, he ran an exploratory tongue around his mouth and then raised his head.
His vision was still a bit indistinct. He blinked, to clear it.
Kazary was seated in the armchair almost opposite him, at the far side of a small table containing the crystal flask Naz had been filling at the bar, and a PADD. The alien blinked benevolently at him and smiled – a smile that showed the Klingons weren't the only species who habitually filed their teeth into points.
The room was empty, apart from the two of them and an amount of furniture that suggested it was some kind of comfortable study. A fire burned in the hearth facing them, crackling cosily as it fed on wood that must cost a fortune to import. It was probably mostly for effect, as the room was already extremely hot.
"I do hope you're not feeling too unwell, my dear J'Kar," said his host solicitously. "Such a shame you were still so thirsty after your stranding. You did end up drinking more than was absolutely necessary."
"Yes. I thought Naz's drinks were even worse than I remembered." The contents of his stomach moved uneasily. From the taste and texture of the inside of his mouth, he'd vomited at least once, as his body tried to rid itself of the drug.
"I can imagine. But you must remember, not many of his clientele have sophisticated tastes." In the smooth face with its faint tracery of scales, the jade eyes blinked again. "Which I understand you have ... recently developed."
"Try everything once. That's always been my motto." He grinned.
The eyes examined him carefully. "Far be it from me to be shocked by my customers' preferences, my dear J'Kar. But I must say you never seemed to me to be among those likely to experiment along those particular lines."
A shrug. "I was drunk. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Once again his mind disconnected, and a part of it whispered, What would your father think if he could hear you now? But he spoke on fluently, with a wealth of prurient detail to add conviction, until it seemed to him that if he'd been sitting opposite himself and had a phase pistol he'd have shot the perverted bastard out of hand. The horror of this realisation was enough to bring his gorge surging back up his throat, but he swallowed it somehow and not a muscle of his face moved to betray that fact.
There was a pause, in which he had time to reflect that he'd gambled not only his own life but that of his captain on no more than a hunch, and that it was wholly possible that Keri was not, and never had been, within a dozen light-years of Farlaxi Station.
"Well." Kazary spoke thoughtfully at last. "On the assumption ... merely the assumption ... that I might have something along the lines you mention, we need to discuss your ability to pay the appropriate price."
Only the long years of experience in Starfleet's 'Department of Dirty Tricks' enabled Malcolm to smile in delight at the creature who was proposing to sell a child to a man who had spoken as he had done. Behind the smile, he rehearsed a dozen ways of separating Kazary's internal organs from his body and decorating the room with them while the owner was still alive to watch.
He nodded at the PADD. "If you didn't know I could afford her, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Quite." The slaver inclined his head, as one conceding the point. "Which leads us to your other ... asset. He interests me. Tell me about him."
"Tall. Strong. Not bad-looking. Co-operative enough, after a little misunderstanding at first." He'd have emphasised the point with a thrust of his pelvis, but considering what was currently attached to it, that might not be a good idea; not everybody was as meticulous as he'd always been when they were putting a bomb together. "Bright, or he wouldn't be on a ship like that. I think he'd be worth a decent amount, in the right quarters."
"Now, this is what I find really interesting," Kazary purred. "A man serving on a Starfleet ship. A pilot, you said. So ... likely to have at least some knowledge of Starfleet technology."
"Some, I suppose. He was a decent enough pilot. Though I don't think he was an officer or anything," Malcolm added regretfully. "I mean, if he was someone important you could have had a go at getting a ransom for him."
"My dear J'Kar. It's likely to cause me more than enough inconvenience having that irritating Enterprise arrive and ask awkward questions. As for the complications that would quite possibly ensue from any suggestion of a ransom – no, no, it's out of the question. Quite out of the question.
"However," he went on with a wave, "the issue of his value can perhaps wait until we've established whether a trade is of interest to both of us. I'm sure you're not in the habit of purchasing goods unseen."
"Not goods like this, I'm not. If I'm paying your prices I want the real deal."
Kazary looked pained. "Do I have the reputation of a man who sells counterfeit goods?"
"Not usually, I'll grant you." Malcolm grinned wolfishly. The slaver's prices were exorbitant because his goods – however ill-gotten they might be – were guaranteed to be genuine. "But I have to get moving if I'm going to be well clear of this place before Enterprise arrives. If she's what I want, we'll talk about prices. If she's not, I'm out of here, and the pilot can come too. There are other places I know of where he'll fetch something."
"Then it will be agreeable for both of us if you're suitably impressed." The alien rose, wrapping his voluminous furred robes around him. "Incidentally," he added, "most of the delightful little toys you brought with you have been ... put out of harm's way. Temporarily, I assure you. So you won't have any way to establish the location of my humble abode, and I'm afraid we have to make sure you don't peep when we return you to So'owith's house to think over your decision."
"If she's good enough, I won't have to think it over." A sensor pad on the wall beside a door in the corner registered the pressure of Kazary's three-fingered bony hand, and there was the sound of heavy metal wards disengaging. "Can't we just discuss the details as soon as I've seen her?"
"Please!" His host pressed a second pad, just inside the door, and lights sprang to life along a corridor some ten metres long, lined with other doors, each made of metal. Malcolm's experienced eye noted the pattern of intruder alarms, each sensor presumably linked to its own independent circuit and power source but tied up to all the others with interconnecting trips – taking one out wouldn't take the others out, but it would almost certainly set the whole damned series off. "It's very late, and I've had a most demanding day. I couldn't think of doing business at this hour. And you yourself have only just arrived, my dear friend. I'm sure your ... pilot ... will be at his most presentable after a good night's sleep, and more ready to be sensible. You wouldn't wish him to make an unfairly poor impression on me, when we still have to come to some agreement about his value."
"Hardly." A shrug. "Well, it'll give me time to make the arrangements for the shuttlepod."
"Certainly. I always find that these things settle themselves, with a little care and forethought on all sides." He stopped by the fourth door on the left hand side, and pressed yet another sensor pad, bestowing on his guest a smile that was possibly meant to be fatherly. "Well, we don't encounter many Humans out in our little backwater here, so I may be misled in thinking you'll find her ... well, quite attractive. But please don't spare my feelings. If she isn't just what you're looking for, don't hesitate to say."
More metal wards disengaged.
Malcolm found that the palms of his hands were wet with sweat, and his fingers ached with the lust to kill.
Light came on inside the room.
He stepped through the door.
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