The Adventures of Augment Gothic

by Joe Lawyer

A present-day Star Trek fan is forcibly thrust into that dimension and made anew as an Augment, a genetically engineered superman, on the whim of a mischievous god. Armed with knowledge of this dimension's past and future, he's determined to live well, have fun with alien women, and make it look easy. Elements of DS9/TNG/Voy/Ent. Originally co-written with GothicJedi666.

18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to or part of Star Trek. This fan fiction was written purely for fun.

The Adventures of Augment Gothic

Chapter 18

Crime Lord's Home. Verex III.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kira look around the room with unconcealed distaste in her eyes, or was it disgust, and I didn't blame her for the reaction, though I certainly wished she at least tried to hide her emotions a little better. Criminals and warlords, of which I had had dealings with a handful of times during my service in Iraq and Afghanistan, were a prickly bunch at the best of times, prone to seeing insult and disrespect everywhere, usually dealing out over the top retribution and hyperviolence for any perceived slights. Those kinds of people weren't exactly known for their impulse control, it's part of the reason why they became criminals and warlords in the first place.

Of all the sectors in the quadrant, the Orion Sector was the most notorious, and of all the systems within that sector, the worst had to be the Verex system.

Strictly speaking the Verex system was part of the Borderlands which was a lawless region of space situated between the Klingon Empire and the Orion Syndicate, or at least it had been in the past. Anyone who actually came here and spent any time in the region could see that it might as well be an official part of the Syndicate.

During the very, very long journey to get here, I'd read up on the world in the Federation database and had discovered, well, remembered, that this planet had been featured in an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise. In 2154, a Klingon Bird-of-Prey had been boarded and captured by only two Human Augments in the Borderlands, who then killed the entire crew. Beyond the obvious reasons, this had been a terrible embarrassment to the Klingons and had nearly led to war between humanity and the Klingon Empire. It had also sparked the Klingons' interest in Augment DNA. That, of course, had nearly led to their species' destruction. Those events, centuries in the past, still had an effect on me and my life today.

The Enterprise NX-01 had subsequently entered the region to search for the Augments in the hopes of bringing them to justice and preventing an interstellar war with the Klingons, who'd blamed Earth for the deaths of the Bird-of-Prey's crew and the theft of one of their state-of-the-art warships. That was a bit unfair, but hey, the Klingons weren't exactly known for their impulse control either. Humanity was on its own at that point, the founding of the Federation seven years off, so war with the Klingons, most historians agreed, would have resulted in an almost certain defeat for humanity. Humanity, at that time, hadn't yet forgotten the many lessons of war that had shaped them, so they'd likely have put up a good fight, but they were only one world, with only a small number of modern starships with which to fight. From a pure resource perspective Earth would have been in deep shit in that match up.

During the search for the Augments, the Enterprise had been attacked by two Orion Interceptors, who went on to abduct nine members of the Enterprise crew. The captives were subsequently taken here to Verex III to be sold in its infamous slave markets, where they were to be auctioned off as slaves to the highest bidder. Eventually, Captain Archer was able to recover his missing crewmembers with the assistance of Dr. Arik Soong, whose descendent would go on to build the androids known as Data and Lore. Talk about a prodigious family.

At the moment, Kira and I were on Verex III, which in centuries past had been a world inhabited mostly by slaves and those who sold them, to buy more weapons to supply the voracious needs of the Resistance in their struggle against the Cardassians. Recent victories against the Cardassians on Bajor, many of which I had been largely responsible for in some way, had seen a huge uptick in recruiting and those new members needed weapons to kill Cardassians with. It was a vicious cycle, I thought with a laugh.

Contact with Section 31 had been sporadic at best during my mission on Bajor, the Cardassians and the Obsidian Order being exceedingly skilled at counter-intelligence, but the war with the Federation had taken its toll and more and more information had started to trickle down to Bajor from off planet. The irony was that while the Cardassians had redirected resources and their attention away from Bajor due to the war, which had in turn made many of our victories possible, it had also severely limited the amount of Cardassian weapons and technology being sent to resupply the planet, supplies which the Resistance often stole or captured to continue their operations.

So, more weapons were needed to keep the momentum up. Section 31 could have easily supplied the whole planet several times over, but reports from Section 31 had indicated that the Cardassians were getting awfully suspicious of late and had made clandestine investigations into the source of the high-quality weapons showing up on Bajor in increasing numbers, even if they'd already conclusively determined that all of them were just very good copies. 31 had put down multiple fake trails for the Cardassians to follow in this case, ones that led nowhere near to them, but the fact that they were looking and not accepting the most likely conclusion…was troubling. Even a wrong conclusion could lead to trouble for the Federation and its allies.

Rather than supplying any more weapons directly, Section 31 had strongly recommended that I encourage the Resistance to seek out legitimate (ha!) sources of black-market arms to give the Cardassians a real investigational path that led away from me (and the Federation considering I was human) and the possibility of an outside power interfering on Bajor. If the Cardassians tracked down our purchase of black-market arms and weaponry in Orion space, it'd actually be a good thing and rather useful. Even better if the Cardassians sent some operatives to kill or disrupt the Orions afterward. It was no skin off our nose if they started killing each other and would actually serve wider Federation interests for a conflict to break out between the Orion Syndicate and the Cardassians.

Bottom line, like so many things Section 31 did, encouraging the Resistance to buy from the Orion Syndicate, with my supposed connections opening the right doors, rather than actually supplying them this time, would serve multiple purposes. Plans within plans.

Then there was my other mission that Section 31 had tasked me with, which I didn't think about too much in case a telepath picked up a stray thought. Betazoids couldn't read my mind, that I knew from experience, but I wasn't going to just assume that other telepathic species couldn't. Their telepathy might work differently and thus be effective on me. No reason to take the chance.

While Verex III didn't sell slaves anymore, given how many of the major powers were vehemently against it and would not tolerate their people being taken, it was pretty much the Star Trek universe's version of Nal Hutta, the homeworld of the Hutt race in Star Wars. It was a barren world, barely M-class in characteristics, ruled over piecemeal by the warlords and crooks of many different races. Overall, it was still controlled by the Orions though.

Kira and I had come to the truly ostentatious mansion of Gaila, a successful Ferengi arms merchant, who I had discovered/remembered was a cousin to Deep Space Nine's very own Quark. Gaila had featured pretty heavily in a late season episode of DS9 that had been pretty damn good where he had brought Quark into his business and began selling weapons on the station in holographic form.

Gaila's specialty was weapons and heavy armament, but he would trade in anything as a sideline if it could make him a profit. He also owned his very own moon, which Quark harped on and on about in the show as a symbol of his cousin's wealth and success, however he had directed us to meet him on his home on Verex III rather than on his moon. He probably used his home on Verex for business meetings with people he didn't know all that well, whereas his moon was for trusted business partners and where he likely kept the most valuable aspects of his business empire. It was a smart move overall, I admitted. Or maybe he didn't own the moon yet? That was possible this early on in the timeline. To be honest, I didn't really care all that much.

The Section 31 dossier on Gaila basically confirmed that he was a well-respected arms merchant who didn't fuck around much with his customers, providing consistently high-quality merchandise and some extremely advanced technology to his customers for the right price. I was even considering placing an order myself for some new weapons or technology for my ship once I had some more funds available. Gaila was a full-service provider and even had his own skilled engineering teams to do the installation on anything that you bought from him, but there was no way I'd let his people do the work, no matter how convenient it'd be. Prophets knew what kind of intelligence they could gather from my ship with access to her internal systems, or what backdoors, or malware they could install if given the right opportunity.

This kind of black-market deal repelled Kira, one in which the seller only cared about making money rather than an iota about the cause the Bajorans were fighting and dying for, which was probably why she was so standoffish with me when we first met. She sucked it up, though, because the Bajoran people needed a continuous supply of weapons for their growing rebel movement to keep the momentum up. More success meant more recruits, which meant that they needed more weapons.

My ship (and Section 31 by extension) could believably keep one cell supplied fairly well, and without raising too much suspicion, but it certainly wasn't nearly enough to keep a planet-wide terrorist network armed. Or fed for that matter. Section 31 had really underestimated just how badly the Cardassians had fucked with the food supply on Bajor. The Resistance desperately needed more replicators just to feed themselves. An army marches on its stomach and all that; unfortunately, the Bajoran Resistance's bellies were quite empty these days. If I didn't want my mission to fail I knew I'd have to step in and come up with a solution.

Sure, as the rebellion grew more widespread and more raids were conducted, Cardassian weapons and supplies could be re-appropriated (aka stolen) when they were found, but a pretty large supply of weapons and food was needed to get those wins in the first place, and the Cardassians weren't resupplying Bajor like they used to these days.

Making a deal with the Orions directly wouldn't be wise, but for a Ferengi, Gaila, actually had a pretty good reputation for delivering what he promised and was paid for. Not because he was overly honest or honorable, it was mostly because he was smarter than most Ferengi. It was never a good idea to rip off the kind of people who went around buying lots and lots of guns. Plus, those kinds of people tended to be good repeat customers, so in this case it made perfect business sense to keep the relationship good with a minimal amount of Ferengi-style shenanigans. In other words, unbridled greed was NOT good for business long-term and he was smart enough to realize that. Good for him.

Gaila had provided us with an elaborate evening meal and accommodations in his large mansion on Verex. For a price, of course. Ferengi never did anything for free, but again, he made it perfectly clear that that would be the case and the price for such a service, so we were well warned in advance. It was actually pretty reasonable for what we were getting.

Kira had agreed to join the other people Gaila was also entertaining to keep the deal on track and avoid offending our host, but I was worried she would make a scene and upset the alien arms merchant we were hoping to make a pretty decently sized deal with on behalf of the Bajoran Resistance.

In Ferengi society women were normally naked at all times, and were seen rather than heard. After all, according to Gaila, as the fourth Rule of Acquisition said, "A woman wearing clothes is like a man in the kitchen." I had no memory of that particular rule in the shows, so it probably never appeared in an episode, but it fit with what I knew about Ferengi culture. Thankfully, most Ferengis didn't expect non-Ferengi women to be nude like theirs were, but if you really wanted to impress a Ferengi, you didn't bring a clothed female to their home.

I also disapproved of Kira wearing clothes, but not because I thought that she belonged in the kitchen. She was probably a shit cook. I just liked looking at her while she was naked. Still, her choosing to remain clothed wasn't what concerned me, I was mostly worried about her ruining the deal that Shaakar had trusted us to make. After I told Shaakar that they had exhausted my ready supply of weapons that I could provide to the Resistance, I had suggested Gaila as an alternative source (at Section 31's recommendation). I had even loaned a large part of the funds needed for this deal, the Resistance certainly didn't have the funds needed, to further prove my strong belief in their cause. Even better was the fact that that money had come from Section 31's expense accounts, rather than my own.

At the head of the elaborate dinner table sat Gaila, I sat on his right as Kira in turn sat on my right. To Gaila's left sat Daim, who was part of the Orion Syndicate and also a member of the Orion species, which wasn't always the same thing. The Syndicate actually had members from many different races. Gaila and Daim were deep in conversation at the moment, and given the way Gaila was acting, I figured that the big eared Ferengi was lobbying to formally join the Orion Syndicate, and was probably hoping to convince Daim to sponsor his membership application with Kira and I here to show how in demand his business was. I didn't give a shit if we were props in his application to the Syndicate, as long as we got the weapons. There was also a beautiful Andorian woman in attendance who had introduced herself to me as Antias.

The Andorians were a warp-capable humanoid species from the moon Andoria, capital of the Andorian Empire. In 2161 their home world became a founding member of the United Federation of Planets, so they were a very important race and held a lot of influence in the Federation.

I also knew that the females of that race enjoyed an equal position in Andorian society and were considered just as capable as the males. Also, from what I saw on Star Trek: Enterprise, they could potentially initiate an intimate relationship by assaulting a man? I wasn't sure if this was like a Klingon mating ritual, which had permanent commitment connotations, if that was the case then I wanted no part of one. That said, a hot Andorian woman had not yet made my list of alien women I'd banged yet… so perhaps an exception could be made. That blue skin was pretty damn exotic.

Kira and I stood out from the other people seated at the table as we had not decided to make the meal an opportunity for ostentatious displays of our personal wealth. I had replicated brand new clothes from the latest fashions for both Kira and I, but we still stood out in this crowd.

The three other men at the table wore expensive tailored evening suits, and extravagant accessories. One of these dudes was wearing a ring set with a pinkish rose-colored stone that I'd bet money was actually starship-grade dilithium. Talk about over the fucking top.

Antias wore what I guessed was an Andorian style dress made of something like silk, maybe even Tholian silk, which was exceedingly hard to come by, which showed off a lot of her tight blue colored body. Her white hair had golden clips in. She was quite the beauty all in all. I was worried the moving antennae were really going to turn me off, but somehow it worked and I found myself wondering how sensitive they were to the touch.

At the other end of the table from Gaila sat a large human male named Maxwell, who gave off a vibe that suggested that he was either a drug dealer or a pimp, possibly both. Drug dealers and pimps needed weapons too, I guess. My thought that he could be a pimp may have had something to do with the purple-colored practically iridescent suit he was wearing along with all the ridiculous bling. Maybe pimps were the same regardless of century? Oh, and the slave girl at his feet. That was a big one.

Kneeling meekly on the floor to his left was an Orion slave girl, whom Maxwell treated like a beloved pet. Orion slave girls (also known as Orion animal women) were female Orions who in the past had been sold in the slave markets of the Orion Syndicate. I supposed, in a way, she was just another accessory to prove his wealth and success as a criminal.

She sat cowed and silent, but didn't look unhappy actually, wearing sheer whisps of lacy multi-colored gauze, rather than proper clothing, that did little to hide her amazing curvy body. She had a jeweled leash around her neck, one end of which Maxwell had tied to the arm of his chair. She occasionally looked imploringly up at her master, as if begging for attention, in response to which he smiled and fed her small pieces of food from his plate by hand. It was surprisingly erotic in how loving it appeared, especially with how she rested her head on his lap and appeared content. If this was a show, she was a surprisingly good actor, her 'master' reaching down to run his fingers through her hair.

I could tell that the sight thoroughly disgusted Kira, but she said nothing and was obviously trying to keep the disgust off her face, so that was to be commended. Baby steps, I suppose. As for me I had thought that the practice of 'owning' Orion slave girls had died out in the previous century when it had been revealed that Orion females were not enslaved at all, but were rather the enslavers of their race, playing the victim to other species. They had some sort of potent pheromones that their bodies produced, which gave them the ability to control the males of many different races if given the chance. It was very convoluted and something I had never fully understood from the shows. Maybe the Orions had suppressed the information? How had it not been largely disseminated in the Federation in the centuries since?

Modern medical science had developed ways to block or mitigate the effect of those natural pheromones, so in some instances the enslaved Orion woman could actually be enslaved, but that could be a dangerous business, like owning a pet crocodile or lion. Forget to take your medicine to block those pheromones and you'd be fucked pretty quick. I idly wondered if Maxwell used them, or, despite appearances, he was actually the one enslaved and under the control of the very woman he had on a leash at his feet. That would be mighty ironic.

Kira ate in silence for most of the meal, not willing to engage in conversation with most of the people here, and certainly not the Ferengi that sat so near us. However, she was willing to speak with the Andorian woman at the table, which wasn't that surprising, I suppose, as they were both strong women in what right now appeared to be very much a man's world. Kira really wasn't the best choice to go on this kind of mission, but her strong relationship with me and her previous great success in a similar arms deal, where she had acquired both high-quality arms and a powerful fighter to join the cell, had likely had Shakaar thinking lightning would strike twice. Sigh. Kira's 'success' was less about ability and more about the fact that the deck had been stacked to benefit the Resistance long before we met.

A bit of conversation Kira was having caught my attention, so I turned to listen.

"Kira, do you believe the Cardassians to be a threat to the whole Alpha Quadrant?" Antias asked curiously. Obviously Kira had been telling the woman all about her people's suffering on Bajor and possibly even the expansionist bent of the Cardassian Union, and how it was related to the Cardassian/Federation War. We had had many such conversations since I'd joined the Resistance.

Kira paused in thought before saying anything.

"Yes, I do," the Bajoran woman said after a few moments of thought. "They're powerful, and they harbor a deep cultural hatred towards anyone who isn't of their race. They've even shown a willingness to take on a major power like the Federation, though Gothic believes they have no chance of truly winning that conflict and its more about what concessions they'll eventually be given to end the hostilities. If given half the chance they will invade your world too, especially if they believe it is weak enough for them to be successful and hold long-term."

This was most likely true and my foreknowledge was in agreement. If the Cardassians had the power to do so, they would expand aggressively, just like they did when the Dominion began backing them. Antias was supposedly from an Andorian colony world that had broken off from the Federation and was officially independent. Of course, those independent colonies were primarily composed of species already in the Federation proper, like the Andorians, the Vulcans, and humans, and thus would be unlikely to suffer alone through a Cardassian invasion without help being offered by the Federation, especially if they asked for it. The Cardassians and others knew that and thus they were protected by proxy. Thankfully, the spoon heads weren't exactly the all-powerful galactic power that they imagined themselves to be. The Federation and other multi-planetary powers, collectively, were able to keep their expansionist yearnings mostly in check.

I'm sure they didn't like that and the Cardassians likely very carefully chose the Federation as the weak link keeping them from expanding. They were right too. Though the Federation could have curb stomped them long ago, they lacked the will to fight a war like that. From my knowledge of the future, the Cardassian/Federation war would result in substantial territorial gains for the Cardassians. By any realistic or practical measure, they'd won that war.

"War is good for business, as the 34th Rule of Acquisition says," our host chimed in, having listened to the conversation. Those ears were no joke. "I'm sure Cardassian rule wouldn't affect us overmuch, even if they did one day stretch their so-called Union this far. Everyone, the Cardassians included, even the mighty Federation, needs people like us."

The big eared alien then took a mouthful of wine from his goblet, and I knew then and there that as long as they could make money from it and survive, the whole Galaxy could go up in flames as far as people like him were concerned. People like that didn't care how many people they hurt, or died as a result, just as long as they survived and thrived they'd be happy to watch the flames burn.

Kira put down her fork so hard it drew everyone's attention. It appeared that she had reached the same conclusion. Our many long talks throughout the Occupation, where I'd shared my thoughts on the state of the galaxy and my philosophy on warfare and life, had obviously effected Kira in a fundamental way. For better or worse, she was no longer the character I'd seen in the shows. I had showed up at a very critical and formative time in her life and I'd left my mark, whether that was good or bad for the future, only the Prophets truly knew.

"I'm leaving," she informed me as she stood up.

Our host looked offended.

"But you haven't finished your meal," Gaila objected. "Don't you like the food?"

Actually, the food was freaking amazing and Gaila's chef was to be commended. The obviously non-replicated meal was made of dishes that suited a large number of humanoid races, including humans and Bajorans.

"The food was excellent," the Bajoran woman answered. "It's the company that I find distasteful."

Kira then headed for the sanctuary of the room we were sharing. I sighed silently and stood from my seat; so much for that progress. What the fuck was Shakaar thinking?

"I'd better go calm her down," I offered to the rest of the people at the table as I stood, smiling indulgently with just the right amount of exasperation and a visible roll of my eyes. "Bajoran women can be very passionate at times, especially when it comes to the topic of the Cardassians, but that same passion is wonderous in the bedroom. My apologies for the disruption to this wonderful meal everyone, Gaila. Please enjoy the rest of your evening. I'm eager to finalize our business deal tomorrow."

After making eye contact with my host and everyone else present, I departed.

XXXXX

"Ah, Gothic, you're just in time for the evening's entertainment," Maxwell explained with a smile once I had returned to the gathering after 'calming Kira down.' It actually wasn't that far off from the truth. She really wasn't suited to this kind of delicate work, in other words, working with people she'd rather shoot in the head than have pleasant dealings with. The ends had to justify the means in some cases. "My pet has just gone to change."

Since we'd left, the party had relocated to a decadently appointed lounge connected to the dining room, with many comfortable pillows and places to recline. The beautiful Orion slave girl soon returned, a sensual techno beat filling the air. She was wearing several more translucent wisps of colorful fabric that swayed revealingly as she danced and gyrated across the room. The leash was gone, it being rather impractical for her to wear while dancing, but she wore other symbols of her slavery, like a small chain fastened to a collar which was round her long thin neck and falling into the valley of her perfectly formed tits. If I didn't know any better I'd just think it was some kind of exotic necklace, rather than a symbol of her ownership by Maxwell.

Orion slave dancers had become legendary in the previous century or two for the intensely erotic sensuality of their dancing and their ability to inflame and enthrall the senses of most humanoid men, and I could see why. It was reminiscent of the Orion slave dance that had been shown in an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise, but there was a world of difference in what they could show on a network television show and what I was witnessing in real life. The glimpses of flesh were tantalizing and titillating and more frequent as this beautiful creature shed her wisps of fabric. Her dance also took her into the laps of various patrons.

Still, with a hard shake of my head, I was able to look away long enough to glance at Antias a couple of times to observe her reaction. The Andorian female seemed mesmerized by the slave girl's sensual movements, even reaching up to receive and put to her nose one of the proffered veils or scarves that the dancer removed and had thrown into the audience as she gyrated in front of us, slowly getting fully naked. They didn't show that on the show! She obviously was enjoying the show, but without making it seem all seedy and dirty; it was a shame the other people in the room didn't have the same level of self-control. They were all men, I noticed, so perhaps their susceptibility to her pheromones had something to do with it. Luckily I seemed to be unaffected; being an Augment was pretty awesome pretty much all the time.

"Maxwell," Gaila called out excitedly from where he was lying near us, propped up by a few pillows, without taking his eyes from the dancer in front of him. "I must congratulate you. You are the first non-Ferengi I have met who knows the correct way to treat their women. Although I still disapprove of you allowing her to wear clothes."

Daim, the Orion male, nodded in agreement, a smile on his face, also without taking his eyes from the female of his race, yet he seemed to be looking past her if I was any judge.

"Don't worry, my friend, my pet will soon correct that oversight!" Maxwell assured the Ferengi jovially, while laughing, a large lascivious smile on his face.

"Very good," Gaila responded lustfully. "I commend you on your training of her."

At this point I decided to drone out the voices of the others and to focus on the show right in front of me. There would be plenty of time later tonight, once everyone was well and truly drunk or sleeping, to infiltrate Gaila's computer systems in search of the information Section 31 wanted. Right now, I was just going to focus on enjoying myself. Beyond the obvious, seeing an Orion slave girl dance in real life was causing my inner Star Trek fan to totally geek out and I wasn't going to miss this opportunity for the world.

XXXXX

Antias frowned. Someone had beaten her to this out of the way ODN port that she had spotted earlier in the day. It was a human male, the same she'd met and dined with that very night. A man who was tall, pink skinned, young, and had long dark hair. He was also ridiculously good looking and fit. She wasn't normally attracted to human males, most of them lacked that killer instinct, that look of the warrior, that most Andorian women sought in their bed partners and mates, but damn girl. This human was unlike any she'd ever seen before. He'd have to be cut from a different cloth to be here at all.

One look in his eyes and she'd almost seen her death. Klingons weren't the only species who could sense another predator, after all. The Andorian people had changed a lot after the founding of the Federation, but they never forgot where they came from. The frozen ice of Andoria had made her people strong and they could spot that strength in others.

She'd seen him at Gaila's dinner that night and thought that he worked with or as an agent for the Bajoran woman who was here trying to buy weapons to free her people from the oppression of the Cardassians. She certainly sympathized with the Bajoran people's plight, many did in the Federation, and she had often wished the Federation had done something more to stop the Cardassians or just helped the Bajorans.

He was stooped over the control console, oblivious to her, or so she thought, his fingers tapping on the inputs with a great deal of speed and skill. Antias was about to withdraw, then saw exactly what he was doing on the display screen. Another second and he would set off every alarm in the building and there'd be no chance of her getting the information her bosses wanted.

"Stop!" she whispered urgently.

The man stopped what he was doing and turned to her in surprise, his hand reaching for something. A hidden weapon, perhaps?

"I… er…" he said as he floundered for an excuse to be there.

He then obviously realized that she wasn't meant to be there either, but before he could bring that up Antias leapt to the console and keyed in a cancel command, canceling the man's activity.

"You were about to trigger a security protocol," she told him urgently, but he didn't seem to understand.

'He looks confused, maybe even disoriented?' Antias thought uncertainly. 'Or is he just playing a part right now, the role of the helpless and dumb thief who was no threat to her?' If she weren't Andorian, would she have just assumed that he was another weak pacifistic human from the Federation? Probably, she admitted, but she couldn't forget what she'd seen in those eyes and what her instincts were telling her even now. It felt like she was a small prey animal in front of an apex predator and she didn't like that feeling, though it paradoxically excited her.

She figured that the quickest way of getting rid of this man was to find the information he was looking for, taking his act at face value, then get on with her own search. With this in mind she plugged her portable transmitter into the machine's ODN access port. Immediately, she began mentally interacting with this computer system and retrieving information directly, via the surgically implanted dataport in her neck. She bypassed the admittedly decent firewalls and security lockouts with relative ease, finding her way into the mansion's data core. Few systems were capable of truly keeping out someone with her capabilities and training.

"What data?" she asked.

The human again looked confused or at least feigned confusion.

"What?" the man asked.

Antias was starting to doubt her earlier assessment and was now thinking that this man could not be in the same business she was, or if he was then he was very damn new at it.

"What data are you looking for?" she repeated slowly, before trying to explain better. "If I get it for you, then you will get out of here and let me work."

The man nodded.

"What data?" Antias slowly repeated again.

Now he seemed to have caught on. The man seemed distracted by something, or was just disoriented for some reason and that seemed genuine. Then he visibly focused himself through what looked like an act of sheer will and rattled off a list of stardates and names from memory. That was impressive.

"If Gaila knows anything about them then please copy the records for me," he requested.

The data was soon downloaded, and Antias handed it over to him on a memory chip the size of a pip worn on the collar of a Starfleet officer.

"You never saw me and I never saw you, understand?" she commanded.

He nodded and was gone a moment later. By the time Antias removed the portable transmitter, and had looked around, she found a young, green-skinned girl was coldly observing her.

"You have a dataport," the slave girl stated. "Good, you can help me access the Ferengi's database."

What kind of craziness was going on right now? Antias was now thoroughly amused at how this night had gone. She'd never been this popular before. Was everyone here on false pretenses or were they all taking advantage of this opportunity?

"Why should I?" she asked.

She didn't intend to refuse the Orion girl, but she was curious just what a slave girl could do to force the situation.

"Because otherwise I'll raise the alarm," the girl answered threateningly.

Uh huh, riiiight.

Antias returned to the computer. It seemed that everyone wanted to dig into Gaila's database, and had likely come here under false pretenses in order to do so.

"What do you want to know?" she asked the green-skinned girl.

"Narcotics sales, distribution methods, bribes, co-opted government officials, slavery, murder, anything illegal Gaila might be involved in with Maxwell," the slave girl replied.

Interesting. Seemed like the slave girl was trying to get some dirt on her master, or about a specific business. Antias scanned further through the files. This information was quite a bit more sensitive, so she didn't want to risk looking for too long lest a security protocol catch her prolonged access and flag it as unusual. She came up with only one record.

"Gaila makes regular arms shipments to a narcotics cartel on Shiox II," the blue skinned female reported, tossing a data crystal at the slave girl. "No reference to what they actually produce or details about their operation, but it's the only thing there with a reference to Maxwell attached too."

The green-skinned girl nodded, then smiled.

"Thanks, you saved me a lot of time," she said, coming close and giving her a sensual kiss on the lips.

Then she slipped gracefully out through the door into the corridor as Antias retrieved the transmitter interlink from the access point, and she removed the connection from the port in her neck as well. After that she left the room, her spirits lifted by what had just happened. Whatever those two were up to it could very well have a damaging effect on Gaila and his operations, and more importantly, the people higher up the food chain connected to him. Which was pleasing for her.

All in all, it was a good night's work for a Starfleet Intelligence Officer. Bizarre, certainly, but good.

XXXXX

Antias knocked on my door later that evening.

"A present for you," she said, giving me the small piece of silk she'd received from the slave girl earlier.

I wasn't sure what to make of such a gift.

"Thanks," I said carefully, while looking at it closely.

It was normal silk, in fact I didn't notice anything special about it until I actually brought it to my face and took a breath. The scent was cloying and sweet, and reminded me of the way a room smelled after some really good sex. This proved to be a rather imprudent decision as I felt dizzy and lightheaded for a few moments, yet I had a feeling of giddiness, maybe even euphoria?

I figured it was the pheromones; the Orion slave dancer had been wearing and sweating into it during her dance. The silk was practically saturated in it, and this concentration was making me a bit loopy; which suggested that I might have been more affected by her dance earlier than I'd even realized. It would explain a lot about this night. And I thought I was immune to its effects being an Augment with a superior physiology.

That might also explain how someone with practically a Ph.D. in computer engineering and programming had nearly screwed up like an amateur while hacking Gaila's database earlier this evening. How fucking embarrassing. An Augment's arrogance was going to get me killed if I wasn't careful. Hopefully my attempt at playing the inexperienced noob had led to her underestimating me. Unfortunately, I grimaced, my act had had several genuine components to it, so it wasn't exactly a total act.

That bit of self-condemnation expressed, my Augment physiology had obviously been working hard to limit the effects, as I had still been somewhat capable of performing complex tasks. I obviously wasn't completely immune to the mind-altering aspects, but I likely did much better than a baseline human male would have. I strongly suspected that with enough exposure and time my immune system would adapt to completely eliminate any of its effects on me. My ship's computer should have enough information to run a few simulations on that point. I actually had mixed feelings about that. Would I have enjoyed the dance as much without the pheromones in the mix? I might have been surrounded by killers and criminals and the woman might actually be a slave, but it was a pretty amazing experience all said, one I would never forget.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked the Andorian woman once I was feeling more level headed. "You seemed to quite enjoy the show."

In fact, she seemed to enjoy it more than even I did. Not that I would assume Antias was a 'lesbian' due to that alone, at least as I was used to defining that term. In this case it would be stupid to try to apply 21st century human sexual norms and labels to an alien race. Sexuality this far into the future was much more complex and adaptable than in my time due to the interaction and mixing of so many different humanoid cultures and species; just look at the Risians. There were even species with no genders at all, or several. It made classifying someone as either straight, gay or bi, rather pointless really.

From my perspective, as a new citizen of this time, for all the complexities involved with numerous cultures and species interacting regularly, it basically boiled down to people simply tending to have sex with those that they found attractive and/or were physiologically compatible with, and that was pretty much it. Even that was a gross oversimplification though.

"She's an excellent dancer," Antias answered, rather evasively I thought, "and I've had as much as I can stand of the others. How soon before we can get away from this place and back to Earth?"

I was now very, very confused.

"Or would you like to visit Andoria?" she asked hesitantly.

That was when the alien female's face gave me a look of confusion.

"You're not with Starfleet Intelligence, are you?" she asked.

I shook my head, and she muttered something my universal translator was unable to deal with. Only a scant few in Starfleet Intelligence knew of the existence of Section 31 and I sincerely doubted that she was one of them.

"Well, you're human," she then said. "Are you at least from Earth?"

It wasn't the Earth she knew, but that was my homeworld.

"Yes," I answered her, nodding. "I'm a freelance trader. Really, I'm just here because the Bajorans want to buy weapons and I happen to have a ship."

Antias smiled at me. Luckily the legalities of what I was doing were a bit murky, acting merely as transportation for the Bajorans, at least on paper, and most Federation citizens and agencies were willing to turn a blind eye when it came to the Bajorans, especially right now when the Federation was at war with the Cardassians.

"Good, you're a Federation citizen at least," she said, before frowning again. "Hold on, if you're not in my line of work what did you want that information for?"

I didn't, Section 31 did, though I had little idea why and frankly didn't care all that much. However, I couldn't exactly tell her that. The stolen data she'd help me acquire in my weakened state would make me another nice little payday.

"Like I said before, I'm a freelance trader; sometimes, though, I trade in information for interested parties," was all I was willing to say on the matter. She seemed willing to accept that I wasn't going to say anything further and even looked intrigued.

Maybe that answer would mean some paid work for Starfleet Intelligence in the future? That'd be profitable and I doubt 31 would care one whit about that, in fact it might provide another layer of camouflage to hide their organization's connection to me should I ever get caught doing something that reeked of espionage or an official mission.

The Andorian woman stared at me for a while, and then visibly relaxed just in time for someone else to knock at the door. I was certainly popular tonight.

"This could be bad," I said under my breath.

To my surprise it was the Orion slave girl at the door. Which made me very glad that Kira was resting in the bedroom, as she would totally get the wrong idea about what was going on here. Not that I even understood it really.

XXXXX

The Flighty Temptress. On Route to Earth.

My ship was currently traveling at its top cruising speed of warp 6, so if anyone was chasing us they'd have to be close by and cloaked because I had nothing showing on my sensors and my ship was pretty damn stealthy. However, I wasn't really worried about pursuit as we'd left the planet with an arms deal in place agreeable to all sides and everyone was pretty pleased.

Kira had had a blast personally testing out each weapon type offered for sale on Gaila's personal firing range. The man had been rather clever, in my opinion, and had played to his audience by programming holographic shooting targets that looked like sneering Cardassian soldiers, which was a nice touch admittedly. He even had one that looked like Dukat! Kira had been practically giddy as she used a large assortment of weaponry to kill the Cardassians, each reacting as if it was real, even shooting several of them in the nuts, including Dukat, to the groans of the humanoid men that were present. She even left the holographic version of Dukat alive! Probably out of deference to the wishes of the Prophets.

Everything had checked out nicely; the Bajorans would soon have their weapons to keep killing Cardassians, Quark's cousin had made a decent profit on the deal and was more than happy to make more deals with the Resistance (and me) in the future, our incursions into his computer systems seemingly having gone undetected, and I now had three women on my ship. Two of which were spies.

How the fuck did I find myself in these unlikely situations?!

"Excuse me, errm," I heard Antias the Andorian awkwardly speak to the Bajoran in the cockpit with us.

The three women hadn't spoken much since we'd gone to warp. I was really hoping they would get along as it was a long journey back to Earth at warp 6 and my ship wasn't all that big in the first place, even less so now. Perhaps I could have dropped them off at a closer Federation controlled planet, but I was being paid generously to take them safely and directly to Earth, so that was what I was going to do, especially since a reputation for successful, fair, discreet and professional transactions could lead to more work from Starfleet Intelligence in the future, the organization both spies ultimately worked for.

"Yes?" Kira responded brusquely, tapping away on the control panel in front of her.

My guess was that she didn't like there being other women on my ship. For starters there was only one real bed on the ship at the moment (the heavenly and decadent King-sized one in my cabin), and she was used to sharing it with me and attempting to break it whenever the mood struck me or her, which was a lot on these long, boring journeys at warp. Having all these passengers also limited our impromptu sex all over the ship. My favorite unusual sex locale was disabling the cockpit controls and railing her on top of them, the stars streaking by at warp speed a nice scenic backdrop as I went balls deep inside her, her orgasmic screams of pleasure echoing nicely in the cockpit. Ah, good times…

I also had a feeling that Kira had been looking forward to having me all to herself for the entire journey. She had often been forced to share me with the other women in the Bajoran Resistance that frequented my sleeping bag, not that she'd ever complained about that.

"I-" Antias started to say, before stopping abruptly.

The blue skinned female seemed ill at ease for some reason.

"You're Bajoran, aren't you, and live there now, fighting back against the Cardassians?" she asked.

The intelligence officer's attempt at starting a conversation wasn't going so well and I felt the need to be anywhere but here.

"Yes, what of it?" Kira demanded to know.

Now I was certain that she was annoyed at the intrusion of these new women into her domain. Kitten was missing her playtime and was obviously worried she was going to have to share me once again. The fact that they were 'weak and soft' Federation women, in her mind, probably was playing a huge role in things as well.

"Nothing, I just…" Antias struggled to say, before taking a deep breath and visibly steeling herself, drawing on some previously unseen well of strength and resolve.

"I had a friend once. She was Bajoran. You just… remind me of her in a lot of ways," Antias managed to tell Kira, sounding like she missed this friend a great deal.

Kira was intrigued.

"'Was Bajoran?' What happened to her?" she asked, sounding intrigued.

I didn't think there would be a happy ending to this little story.

"After escaping Bajor as a child, she joined Starfleet and later Starfleet Intelligence. She was killed by the Cardassians while on a mission behind the lines, during the war," Antias answered in a soft voice, her voice cracking at the end.

So, there were Bajorans in Starfleet Intelligence working against the spoon heads during the current war? That was certainly interesting to hear. Section 31 getting illegally involved didn't surprise me at all, but for SI to be working against them, now that was surprising. Though now that I thought more about it there were probably many such missions during the war with them and having some Bajoran operatives to blend in would have been useful. The Cardassians had taken many Bajorans off Bajor to work as slave labor on their various other worlds so they'd blend in well.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," my sort of partner replied, obviously also intrigued at the idea of Bajorans working within Starfleet Intelligence against the Cardassians, just like I was. The Cardassians had obviously worked hard and been successful at suppressing that kind of information, hiding the fact that some had escaped and made a good life for themselves away from Bajor.

Things became much more relaxed after that.

"My name's Kira. Kira Nerys," she introduced herself.

Kira was her family name; on Bajor the surname always came first, just like in the Japanese culture, if anime like Naruto was to be believed. You only used a Bajoran's first name when you were very close to them or already family. Even I didn't call her Nerys, as she'd never offered.

"Antias Tarik," the Androian responded.

Kira now had a question.

"What's your friend's name?" she asked. "She doesn't speak much".

Kira was referring to the Orion 'slave girl', who was also a spy for Starfleet Intelligence it turned out.

"Jaxa Razik," the green skinned woman told us, speaking up for the first time since this journey had begun.

I busied myself with the controls to not intrude in this burgeoning conversation between the women onboard my ship, even if the ship's autopilot could easily handle flying from point A to point B in a straight line. If anyone asked I was running sensor sweeps and analyzing data to ensure we weren't being followed. It had the benefit of being mostly true.

"Jaxa was telling me earlier that she's been promoted to lieutenant," Antias said to me, obviously trying to bring me into the conversation.

So, I had two Starfleet lieutenants with me on this trip. I might as well have stayed onboard the Enterprise, I thought amusingly.

"I'd have never guessed that you were a lieutenant too," I idly commented.

Before anyone else replied I realized that this may have been the wrong thing to say.

"Why? Because I'm Orionese?" Jaxa asked me heatedly.

Clearly this was a pressure point and she felt offended by my totally accidental insinuation.

"Only because you so convincingly acted the part of your cover persona," I complimented. It was true too. I had had only vague suspicions based on a few episodes of Star Trek: Enterprise I'd seen in another dimension of reality.

Amusingly, neither spy had known that they were the contact the other was supposed to meet at Gaila's dinner party. Maxwell was the senior most officer involved in this operation and had dropped the ball big time. Antias had gotten impatient and a little worried that her cover was going to be blown and had assumed that I was the Starfleet Intelligence officer who was supposed to get her off the planet, as had Jaxa. Both had made this mistake because Maxwell was supposed to initiate contact and had been the only officer who needed to know the identities of everyone involved.

I was human, and because the vast majority of Starfleet's ranks were human, unfortunately, it had been an easy mistake to make. Plus, there had been some confusion about how they were supposed to get off the planet since Maxwell was supposed to stay longer to conduct further business with Gaila. As it had turned out, Jaxa was controlling Maxwell, just like I had wondered, and he had been so out of his mind he'd been unable to act on his mission parameters properly.

It was lucky that I was there and amenable to helping them, otherwise it could have resulted in disaster. I had the distinct feeling that Gaila was still pretty small potatoes, more a merchant in shady goods rather than a criminal willing to kill at the drop of a hat, and that SI had sent some rather inexperienced officers on this likely low-priority and relatively low-risk mission.

"Good recovery," the blue skinned female murmured with a little smile.

She was sitting next to me in the cockpit, looking at the sensor readouts.

"I guess the whole thing was an act, you, Maxwell, the slavery bit," I said, hiding how much I truly knew. "That was some serious role-play. You had me totally fooled."

Well, that wasn't entirely true. I'd wondered, but wasn't sure until later, if Jaxa was the one controlling Maxwell, but also knew that there were treatments available to prevent an Orion's pheromones from working on humans.

"It was less of an act then was originally intended," the 'slave girl' answered quietly and shamefully, looking down, before going silent for a while.

Then it all came flooding out. With no further prompting she told us the whole story, it obviously weighing heavily on her mind and conscience. About how she'd grown up on a Federation starbase with her mother, hearing about the slavery of her people, and wanting to do something about it. She joined Starfleet in the hopes of finding the slavers and freeing the women of her race. She had been made Lieutenant in reward for successfully completing a dangerous assignment she had taken on a few weeks back. One which had, like the mission she had just done, required her to act the part of an Orion slave girl to get into places that a Starfleet officer would have had a lot of trouble getting into normally.

"On my last mission I found out the truth," the green skinned woman admitted. "The females of my race aren't slaves, they never were. We enslave others and play the victim to other races."

Kira was naturally confused.

"It's the pheromones the females of their race produces," I explained. "The effects vary, but with most humanoid men it leads to the Orion female first becoming the dominant partner, and then, eventually, the man becomes her willing slave, but the females still act the part of a slave to others so no one suspects the truth."

Kira looked at me intently, perhaps trying to see if I was also under her control, seeming concerned for me now. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as her hand started inching towards the phaser sidearm on her hip.

"There are ways to suppress the controlling aspects of the pheromones," Jaxa explained to everyone. "If you work with an Orion female you're supposed to take something regularly to neutralize the effects, but for some reason Maxwell didn't or missed a dose. I really don't know what happened. I only know that I really got into the role and that worries me. Maxwell was compromised with me there, and his mission was at risk, I had to abort."

No doubt that was only part of the reason for aborting her mission. It was probably tempting for Jaxa to use her pheromones to control men, like the women of her race, now that she'd gotten a taste for that kind of power. It was probably quite a rush, I'm sure, power over others often was. This realization about herself, in contrast to her morals and what she'd long thought of her race, was probably very jarring. I had a feeling SI was going to require her to attend quite a few sessions with a Starfleet counselor before she was allowed back into the field again.

Reaching out I stopped Kira from slowly pulling her phaser. "Kira, I was effected early in the mission, but the longer I've experienced Jaxa's pheromones, the less they're effecting me now."

"That's not how it works, humans don't acquire an immunity to our pheromones, Captain Gothic," Jaxa pointed out, looking concerned herself now. "You've been acting completely normally around me. I just assumed you were using the suppression drugs?"

I hesitated sharing my background with these two unknowns, but it wasn't really a huge secret, just not something I went out of my way to advertise. Thankfully, it was already part of the cover identity that I'd given to the Bajoran Resistance so Kira wouldn't be surprised.

"I'm an Augment," I admitted without fanfare, looking between Jaxa and Antias. "My genetic enhancements include an advanced, adaptable, and aggressive immune system. The effect of your pheromones, Jaxa, did affect me at first, I admit, but it's lessened with each new exposure. I barely feel it now, which is a bit of a shame," I joked, throwing a wink at the beautiful green-skinned woman.

She laughed at my blatant flirting, though Kira didn't look too happy about it. It was such an interesting contrast from how freely she shared me amongst the various women in the Resistance, with zero jealousy. Maybe she didn't feel they were worthy of me? Or good enough?

"You know what, I better replicate some of those drugs till I'm completely immune," I said while getting up from my chair and heading back to my cabin's replicator. "Otherwise, I might just start ripping your clothes off."

The controlling/bewitching/befuddling effects of her pheromones didn't last very long for me anymore. Mostly it was just enjoyable to smell Jaxa now. I wondered if she tasted good too?

Kira followed me and soon was whispering at me while I used the replicator in my cabin, had turned out to be one of the best purchases I had ever made. Luckily, this Vulcan replicator was advanced enough to produce some medicines as well as food and other small items, which was part of the reason why I'd bought it used way back when on Earth. Medical technology and medicines were mostly freely available in the Federation, including the replicator patterns, at least to those medicines that didn't have a narcotic-like effect or addiction potential, so I had made a point of downloading the entire Starfleet medical database, including their replicator patterns, before I had left Earth. Of course, not everything could be replicated.

"Jaxa is very beautiful, isn't she, Gothic? All that green skin and practically exuding sex?" she semi-asked, and not in the good way.

I wasn't the most woman-savvy man in my past life, but even I saw this minefield for what it was, though I mostly found it amusing. My life was too good to worry about shit like this and my bedroom game was so high-level I found I could get away with a lot more shit than I could before.

"It's not like you need her prancing around half naked like that when you can get me naked anytime you want. Those bits of fabric are stupidly impractical," she complained, once it was clear that I wasn't going to answer. My small smirk had unnerved her.

Her jealousy was both endearing and amusing, and a bit out of character actually. She had never expressed any jealousy when the various women of the Resistance had hopped into my sleeping bag for a ride on my cock, she even joined in sometimes!, but for some reason this situation was triggering her.

"Don't you ever make me paint myself green either!" she added.

Say what? The sheer silliness of that statement made me laugh out loud, which pissed her off further. The implication that I could 'make her' paint herself green and that she'd likely obey was also rather titillating.

Kira folded her arms.

"And just what are you laughing at?" she asked.

The mental picture I had was very funny.

"I wouldn't do that to you. Green's not your color. And you'd have to dye your hair black for it to really work," I assured Kira, still feeling really amused, before my hand snapped out like a viper to grip the back of her neck tightly and bring her lips to mine. I hungrily devoured her lips, our tongues dueling, as she moaned and pressed herself against me tightly.

"While I might not paint you green, I'll still fuck that needy little cunt of yours whenever I want, got it? You're mine, understand?" I asked roughly, a growl in my voice. To which I got several eager and happy nods, as well as kisses along my neck and jawline.

Kira was attracted to strong, powerful, dominant men, with a penchant for warriors, and there wasn't a better and more deadly warrior than me in the Resistance.

Hmm, when I got to DS9 maybe I should try one of Quark's more adult holosuite programs if they had a program featuring an orion slave girl? Turning to look in the direction of the cockpit, why bother when the real thing was right over there?

"How are we going to handle the sleeping arrangements?" Jaxa asked as she walked into my cabin and over to the replicator, an act which brought her very close to me and Kira who was still pressed tightly against me, not even pausing how she was rubbing my cock through my pants, despite the company. I wondered if Jaxa could smell how wet Kira was right now.

Was she trying to tell me something? Or making an offer to share the bed together? My ship only really had the one bedroom, though there were two smaller storage/cargo rooms at the rear of the ship, next to the ship's overly large Star Wars-esque ion impulse engines. Those storage rooms were both filled to the ceiling, at the moment, otherwise they could be converted into sleeping cabins.

There wasn't much extra room inside my ship at the moment considering the number of weapons that had been stuffed into it now that the need to go through the equivalent of Cardassian customs on Bajor wasn't required like before, though there was a little space in the main cargo bay…on the floor. Section 31 would ensure no one inspected my ship's contents or run any scans on it while in orbit of Earth. It'd be pretty hard to explain just why I had enough weapons to outfit a small militia on my ship, I thought with an internal chuckle.

"I noticed that there's only one bed," Jaxa elaborated.

My bedroom, the 'Captain's Cabin', was actually pretty nicely furnished now. While last on the Enterprise I went to town with their industrial replicator and decked my cabin out rather nicely with ultra-high end luxury items that could be found in the Enterprise's replicator pattern database. Everything was brand new. It also happened to be pretty hilarious for the crew to watch Data and I carrying an overlarge and thick mattress, wardrobe, recliner, nightstands, bedding and other assorted odds and ends through the corridors of the Enterprise to get onboard my ship. It was a good thing I was so strong now! The stuff that had been in there previously was a bit too austere for my tastes, so I'd recycled it all.

I decided to use my brilliant mind to save myself.

"I'll let you ladies decide amongst yourselves," I answered, trying to appear magnanimous and not like I was angling for some booty…which I was! "I don't need to sleep much anyway."

It would take weeks more to reach Earth at Warp 6 so I assumed that one of two things would happen. Either the women on this ship would kill each other OR we'd end up having an amazing orgy, one dude, three chicks. Those were pretty much the only two options and I knew exactly which one I preferred and would try to encourage. The orgy would be a little easier to clean up (and explain) afterwards anyways.

If my beautiful new passengers didn't realize that they could just replicate a couple of very nice sleeping bags and pillows, well, I certainly wasn't going to tell them. An Augment is pretty fucking smart, after all.

XXXXX

Two Weeks into Journey, Enroute to Earth. Onboard The Flighty Temptress.

Kira Nerys had just about fucking had enough. She was a pretty patient person, not quick to anger, if she said so herself, but even she had her limits and they had been passed a good long while ago. She was only Bajoran after all.

The journey to Earth had started off ok, a little rough, but ok. She wasn't really used to long journeys at warp, but it helped that they'd successfully made the deal with that disgusting Ferengi and the ship was practically filled with weapons to fight the Cardassians with.

She hadn't been happy with the long detour back to Earth, but keeping Starfleet happy and off their back was important, Gothic had explained and she trusted Gothic's judgment. He also said that they'd be able to pick up quality replicators on Earth in numbers and at prices that weren't possible anywhere else, which would be a gift from the Prophets to the Resistance who often had too little to eat and too little supplies. Gothic had a lot of wise sayings, but one which she heartily agreed with was, 'An army marches on its stomach.' Her time in the Resistance had proven that time and time again, so she certainly saw the wisdom in that strange human saying.

This mission had been a great success so far and would benefit her people and the Resistance in many ways, great and small, so there was plenty to thank Gothic and the Prophets for. It was on just such a journey that she'd met Gothic, in what felt like another life, and she thanked the Prophets every day for bringing the strange human man into her life. Relatively speaking they hadn't known each other that long, but they'd spent nearly every moment next to each other over these last several months, growing closer each day, fighting side-by-side against the Cardassians, and she couldn't imagine her life anymore without him in it. She hoped that continued long into the future.

She still had no idea why she'd offered to have sex with him originally, as a way to entice him to complete the arms deal with her, but it had felt right at the time, like the Prophets were guiding her and that was the right way forward. Yet another reason to thank the Prophets, she thought with a smile.

However, she had no desire whatsoever to thank the Prophets for her current traveling companions in Jaxa and Antias. In fact, when she found herself increasingly frustrated at their behavior her hand would often reach towards the phaser that was ever present on her hip.

Gothic had rolled his eyes amusedly each time and shook his head no, even when she had half seriously mouthed the words, 'What about just on stun?' It was frustrating. She could guarantee hours of blissful silence with just a couple of phaser bolts. It wouldn't even hurt them! Gothic was really unreasonable at times.

After two weeks of non-stop bitching, she'd had enough. One of Gothic's genetic enhancements must have been his ability to turn his hearing off at will, because he was often sitting in that chair of his, a 'leather recliner' he called it, with a datapad in hand, ignoring the arguments going on around him. The man was always studying something or working on some kind of new design or writing his holonovels. She had little interest in such things, but to each their own. She was just amazed he never seemed effected by the sheer amount of unending acrimony onboard his ship; even she wasn't immune to throwing down with the two other women when she'd reached her daily limit.

"Do you have to leave your dirty clothes all over the floor, Antias?!" Jaxa complained loudly in Gothic's bedroom, which had become the unofficial hangout spot on the ship when not in the cockpit, probably because the bed, recliner, and eating area were here, oh, and the replicator. It was also one of the few spaces on the ship without containers filled with weapons. "I nearly tripped on them today!"

"Please, bitch, at least I don't leave half eaten dishes of food all over the place! You could at least put them back in the replicator to be recycled; we're not one of your thralls who will do it for you!" Antias sniped back with a nasty glare. That was quite a low blow considering how ashamed Jaxa had been at her behavior with Maxwell.

When it looked like it was going to intensify into a truly epic argument, she jumped to her feet.

Kira shouted, "That's enough, you weak Federation bitches!"

Finally, blessed silence. Gothic only looked up and raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. The man was always amused, like he constantly found life one amazing and amusing adventure. She wished that she could feel that way all the time too. It was a good attitude to have, one the Prophets would approve of.

"Look at how quickly you devolve into catty bickering and arguments when separated from your giant luxurious starships, with all its many comforts. You two have fallen apart without your private rooms, your bars with servers getting you drinks, and holodecks to live out your every play fantasy. You are weak and wouldn't last a day on Bajor!" she insulted the two silent women. "On this ship we have a replicator to keep our bellies full, warm safe places to sleep, and a powerful protector and captain in Gothic."

"Kira, we—" Antias tried before she was cut off.

"No, you bitches have too much energy, too much time to think and complain. Don't think I haven't noticed how you've been eying Gothic up like two sinoraptors in heat, rubbing your scent all over him, but for some reason you're too afraid to act on it, like a couple of cowardly Cardassians. Well, let me help you, ladies," Kira said with a vicious smile on her face, before getting up and dragging both women by the hair to Gothic's feet at the feet at the foot of the recliner and forcing them to their knees. Gothic said nothing yet, only raising an eyebrow. "My sisters in the Resistance learned long ago to live every day like it was your last, because it very may well be, so we don't stop ourselves from taking pleasure and comfort in each other."

"Kira, I'm not sure you're being fair to them," Gothic tried softly, once again acting like a peacemaker. "They've led very different lives than we have."

"That's no reason for them not to take some wisdom from the Bajoran way of doing things," she said, while unzipping Gothic's pants and taking out his half hard cock, before pumping it with her hands, both Jaxa and Antias' eyes locked on this prize-winning example of masculinity. "It's a lot harder to complain when your mouth is filled with hard cock, and harder to worry about little stuff when you're screaming in orgasm."

With that she shoved both their heads into Gothic's lap on either side of that pillar of hard cock. No further instruction was necessary as they both, without any prompting, began licking up the sides of Gothic's cock, lavishing the head with their long, lashing tongues, their blue and green lips meeting in the middle. The contrast of the blue and green skin of the two women really was striking.

Finally, she'd have some peace and quiet. She'd take moans and screams of pleasure over petty arguing any day.

XXXXX

"Maybe we shouldn't have detoured to that M-Class planet," Antias mused as we finally entered the Sol System, though I could tell she didn't really believe that. "My bosses at HQ were expecting Jaxa and I back more than a week ago."

While it might seem like a male fantasy to be stuck inside a small ship for weeks on end in close proximity with three exotic and extremely beautiful alien women, all of which find the guy attractive and want to share the one bed with him as much as they can once his sexual prowess had been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. In reality, it wasn't as fun as I'd imagined, at least until Kira had had her meltdown and laid down the law.

It would have nice if they'd competed for my attentions the whole time, but sadly, mostly what they'd done for the first two weeks was act catty and argue with each other, each day leading to more vicious sniping between each other; Kira had mostly stayed out of it, but even she wasn't spared.

I had tried to stay out of it too and for some reason had rarely been the target of their complaints. Whether that was because I was the Captain and owner of the ship they were on and their Starfleet training demanded that they give me more respect due to that position, or their attraction to me, or maybe I was just sending out a 'don't fucking bother me with petty bullshit' vibe that shut it down. I really had no idea, but I was thankful for whatever the reason was.

It hadn't been their fault really, it had mostly been an expression of cabin fever. There was only one cabin with a real bed and only one shower between four people, which had made it all the more terrible for the ladies. I really needed to see about increasing the top speed of my engines. The ship's hull could handle much faster speeds, at least according to the simulations I'd done, but the engines, nacelles, and power systems would need to be modified pretty significantly by professionals who had a lot of experience and knew what they were doing. The materials to make those changes alone were also going to be really expensive if bought new. Ah well, plans for the future, or future paydays from 31.

So, when my sensors had detected an M-class planet that was on our flight path, I landed the ship. The world was only inhabited by a few thousand human colonists who had settled on the other side of the planet. It had let the three women get some exercise that didn't involve my penis pounding them into pleasurable goo in some way, though there was still plenty of that in the crystal-clear pools, hot springs, and hidden away waterfalls that dotted the planet. Having your own starship and transporter was the bomb man! It was the height of freedom to just find an M-class world, find some stupidly beautiful and untouched scenic locale and just set down or beam down and shuck off your clothes while running into a tropical lagoon complete with waterfall.

"We'll just say some supreme being, or ascended race, or God-like being held us on trial for all of humanity's sins which delayed our return, and that they later let us go because we've moved on from our barbaric past, and so on. Blah, blah, blah, moral superiority, blah, blah, blah, infinite potential, blah," I suggested.

The Andorian looked decidedly amused.

"Do you think that ever really happened?" she asked, turning to face me with a smile.

I considered the question with more earnestness than she probably expected or intended her question to elicit, my thoughts going back to how TNG ended with Q saving humanity and other similar such situations in the various Star Trek shows.

"Who knows? But it's probably not as rare as you'd think," I said, meeting her eyes and smirking. "Personally, I always found it suspicious that every time some super powerful and overly judgmental Uber-Being chooses people to represent humanity, they always take the best and the brightest, usually right off the bridge of Starfleet's flagship."

And not all of them would have been human anyway on the bridge; the real Enterprise I had been on wasn't restricted to the costume budget of a network television show, hence there were many exotic looking aliens on the ship.

"But isn't that the best choice?" Antias wondered.

It depended on how you looked at it, I suppose.

"Oh, for Mankind, most definitely," I answered. "But if I were going to put a species on trial, I wouldn't pick the top people, I'd just grab some guy at random off Earth or nearby, and then make him defend the entire species. He'd be more honest about the whole thing and probably a better representative of the species as a whole."

That was when a high-pitched whine filled the ship accompanied with a bright light. The next thing I knew I was in a courtroom that could have come straight off the set of some old TV crime drama, if not for the fact that it was filled with shadowy humanoid shapes. Which I guessed were the all powerful, judgmental, Uber-Beings I'd just been talking about.

"Well, fuck me sideways," I muttered. "Someone was listening. Should have kept my fucking mouth shut."

Counsel for the Defense.

No one had spoken those words, but I'd heard them, they'd reached my mind somehow, and in response to them a lifeform that wasn't a 'shadow person' came over to us. He looked human enough, and he was dressed smartly enough to pass for a lawyer that fit this aesthetic, but I didn't think he was a real human being. I was definitely getting some uncanny valley vibes here.

"Right, now listen," said the man. "Humanity has come to the attention of THE COURT. You have two choices, cooperate or don't. Either way, you, personally, don't have to face the repercussions of the Judgment on Humanity. Keeps the witnesses honest, says His Honor," was what we were told.

I required more information.

"What, exactly, does 'cooperation' entail, if I may ask?" was my question, trying to ask as respectfully as possible considering the sheer stakes involved here.

The lawyer guy/being opened a briefcase and started going through some papers.

"You have to agree to be a representative of all Humanity, those on Earth and scattered through the Galaxy, discounting, of course, those under the influence of any other creature that prevents their exercise of Free Will. Those folks also won't be effected by the outcome," was the surprisingly clear answer I got.

How many humans were under the influence of other creatures? Were there Goa'uld in this damn galaxy too?

"You also have to answer the charges and agree to take the terms of any punishments back to Humanity's leaders," I was informed.

Well, so far this seemed to be an easier situation to understand than the sham trial Q had put humanity on.

"And what might those punishments include?" I wondered.

The lawyer guy looked through his papers some more.

"For the crimes listed so far, yikes, it could go up to the simultaneous instant death of every living human in this dimension of universal reality," he answered with a sympathetic wince in my direction. "At least those humans who are not, of course, under the influence of some mind controlling force, brain parasite, etc., etc., etc., and you'll be fine, of course," he told me with a smile that really didn't fit the topic we were discussing.

That seemed clear enough, if not outright horrifying to be responsible for the lives of tens of billions of humans scattered throughout the universe. Hell, I wasn't even native to this fucking dimension. They had to be aware of that as all powerful beings, right? Did they not care? Maybe that made little difference to them? If they didn't know, should I point this out and possibly have my fate decided by some other moron that I'd advised them to just grab randomly off the streets of earth? I'd really fucked myself with that idea, hadn't I?

"Now, just out of curiosity, what would not cooperating result in?" I asked.

More papers were shuffled around.

"Oh, here we go," the being in the human suit replied. "If you refuse to represent your species, which you're free to do, you will still be required to carry the judgment back to your leaders, but you are then also subject to that judgment, and subsequent punishment. Meaning some other poor sod gets your job, and if he fails, well, you die."

I pondered this for a moment.

"Can I pick my replacement if I decide that I don't want the job or responsibility?" was my next question. Picard had done this kind of thing before in the show and he'd likely be a hell of a lot better at this shit than me.

The man shook his head.

"No, we'll just pick some other human off Earth at random, just like you suggested, I hear," he said with a chuckle and a wink.

Fuck. That was disappointing as this seemed like the perfect job to pawn off on Picard.

"Yes, well, I'm certainly willing to cooperate," I told the lawyer. "When do we start?

This time the Lawyer didn't need to consult the contents of his briefcase.

"You will be given quarters, and time to research and prepare your case," the guy in the human suit said. "Good luck!"

XXXXX

Judgement for the Defense. Case Dismissed.

Again, no one had actually spoken those words, but yet I could still hear them.

"Huh… well done," said the lawyer, obviously surprised. "In all my years of watching species being put on trial I've never seen a defendant make the 'The Court' actually cry, I didn't even know they could cry! They're energy beings, after all."

I just shrugged.

"Wasn't hard, for every charge against us I had a counter. Most humans are good really, at their core, it's just that the super evil ones get way more attention," I said.

Thankfully this uber powerful energy-based species shared many of our ideals, or had at one point in their evolution, or else nothing I said would have made a whit of difference.

The tricky part had been coming up with a way to present my evidence, then I'd realized that such a powerful race, one willing to put an entire species on trial, would have complete records of all of human history, the good as well as the bad. So, I'd asked for access to all of it and had put together some truly heartwarming tales about Mankind's softer side. I'm not ashamed to say that I perused other records. Curious about what JFK did with his mistresses, like Marilyn Monroe? Yep, I saw it. The bedroom activities of famous Hollywood actresses that lived in my time and were in this dimension as well? Yep, watched it; those chicks were freaks by the way. Don't judge me; you know you'd do the same.

I also took the unique opportunity to view events that were far more useful to me beyond serving my voyeuristic tendencies, like the events from Star Trek: Enterprise that had occurred in this universe. Most things were the same as in the show, but the temporal cold war aspects were far more detailed and intricate when you had a God-like species' ability to view events. There was virtually a zero percent chance that in all the intervening time the time cops wouldn't have pulled out any future tech or knowledge they'd left behind. And even if I did end up finding something, miraculously, I had a feeling they'd pay me a visit and Prophets knew what happened to me then. I had no defense against that, at least that I knew of. Still, while I hadn't had an opportunity to watch all the episodes again, I had watched enough and locked them in my airtight memory and that had given me several ideas for the future.

I had watched events from TNG too, even those early episodes when Q had shown up, right up until Q suddenly stopped talking to Picard, turned, and looked right the fuck at me and threw me a wink!

NOPE! Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Bad idea, Gothic, bad motherfucking idea!

I didn't think an Augment could have a near heart attack or shit their pants, yet here we were. Served me right for trying to look in on a multi-dimensional temporally omnipresent God being. Of course, they'd be able to detect someone looking in on them, even when in the future, looking at a past event that was supposedly unchangeable. The very idea of it, the implications of it all, made my head hurt.

"I really liked the story about the young non-sentient quadruped companion, the 'puppy' you called it," the lawyer was now saying. How long had I tuned this thing out? "That really got to me, that did."

Everyone loves cute non-threatening animals, so I'd added some stuff about humanity's enduring love for lesser, non-sentient lifeforms to combat the charges of cruelty. There had inevitably been instances in humanity's history where their owners selflessly sacrificed themselves to save their pets' lives. They ate that shit up.

"I've always wondered why it's my race that's always on trial," I said to the lawyer. "Why do these guys never charge the Klingons with being barbarians with no real honor, or punish the Romulans for being completely evil shits."

The man in the suit smiled at me.

"Oh, we put those races on trial ages ago," he told me. "They just pled guilty. The Court always has mercy for those who admit their failings, they just got light punishments."

Light punishments, huh? I wonder if losing their respective wars with the Federation was their light punishment. In the 'minds' of these uber beings, maybe a loss like that would teach them some humility and motivate them to become better as a race in the future.

That was when I realized something else.

"So, I didn't need to stay up all night putting together a counter to all of those charges?" I asked. "We could have just pled guilty?"

The lawyer nodded.

"Wiping a species out only happens when they plead innocent and get found guilty," he said. "Harsher punishment you see; lack of self-realization, a sign they're unlikely to change for the better, etc."

I was very annoyed about this and felt like face palming.

"And you didn't think to tell me that?" I asked incredulously. "That's the freaking point of having a lawyer represent you! You're supposed to use your experience with the court to advise me (and in turn my entire species) to make the right decisions and help us get of trouble."

The lawyer looked surprised, then thoughtful.

"Oh, well, I'll remember that for the next time," he said jovially.

I might have decked the guy if not for the sudden whining noise and the bright white light that suddenly filled the room. I had just saved the life of every human being in the universe, at least the ones not being mind controlled, was I likely to get a thank you? Nope.

'Who knew that Jennifer Lawrence and Megan Fox were such freaks in the sheets?' I thought as I was whisked away.

XXXXX

Author's Note:

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Chapter 19: 20,103 words

Chapter 20: 15,767 words