Chapter Fifteen - Bluffing
The next morning, Damian woke up early. Pausing only to kiss his sleeping Bondmate on the cheek, he dressed and ventured out to the local marketplace.
The marketplace was a large circular group of flat-topped boulders, each boasting a new and exotic collection of items. Turquoise Krleiuvans wandered around, occasionally peering intently at an object before handing something shiny and metallic to a merchant.
Damian browsed the displays, often taking a closer look at an item but never buying anything. Finally his gaze rested on a collection of metal weapons. Walking over, he studied them closely. Picking up a long stylized sword, he made a few practice swipes and then returned it to its place on the table.
"May I be of assistance, sir?" a young aquamarine Krleiuvan merchant asked anxiously.
"Yes, thank you. I'm looking for a gift for my Bondmate." And it was true, because if he forgot Allison's birthday, he wasn't likely to see his own.
The Krleiuvan's ebony eyes seemed to brighten. "Ah, so you are looking for something special. What is your Bondmate's weapon specialty?"
Damian thought about that. Allison loved lightsabers and other swords, but she already had a S'harien1 in addition to her two lightsabers. Better to go with something small, anyway. Easier to carry, easier to conceal. That left small, close-range weapons. Or perhaps something that she could throw. "She would most likely be content with a small, concealable weapon of some sort," he said at last.
With a graceful gesture, the Krleiuvan merchant indicated a display of knives on the right. "I have the finest collection of knives on Krleiuv." He picked up a golden blade, turning it over so the light reflected off the sharp edge. "This is the finest gold fkt'ar knife on the S'abrel Continent. It dates back to..."
Damian listened somewhat as the merchant droned on and on about each item. One knife caught his attention. "What's this one?" he asked, interrupting the Krleiuvan's demonstration. He indicated a diamond-bladed knife, with a sparkling sapphire handle. Amethysts and rubies gleamed on the handgrip, and a single emerald shone with an inner fire on the very end of the handle. Silver and gold strands traced strange patterns across the handle.
The merchant glanced at it. "Ah, that is my prized Gr'loev knife, a rare find. The Gr'loev is made entirely from gemstones and precious metals, and it will not break. This is the only knife of its kind on the entire planet, and I warn you, I will not let it go easily."
Damian simply stared at the knife. "How much?"
"Fifteen-thousand credits."
Inwardly, Damian flinched. Ouch. That'll hurt my savings. "Ten-thousand."
"Fourteen," the merchant offered.
"Twelve," he tried again.
"Thirteen-fifty, and that is my final offer," the Krleiuvan said, one claw raised in warning. "Not a credit lower."
"Thirteen-fifty it is," Damian sighed, and reached for his credit pouch. The things I do for that girl...but it's worth it. Handing over the credit coins, he picked up the knife and began to walk away.
"Sir, aren't you forgetting something?" Damian blinked as the Krleiuvan pulled out a matching sheath for the knife. The sheath was made of diamond, with gold and silver patterns woven around gemstones. The dinosaur-like alien handed it over, almost reverantly. "The Gr'loev must always have its sheath, for they are the only ones worthy of one another." The black eyes bored into the Vulcan's eyes. "Such as it is with you and your Bondmate. Now go, and enjoy your life with such a woman."
Allison was given a very rude awakening, as the sounds of phaser fire right outside her door became audible. Quickly leaping out of bed, she noted that Damian was gone and she had left all of her weapons back on the ship. She immediately assumed a Vulcan self-defense pose, just as her door was violently blown off its hinges. A trio of red Krleiuvans appeared in the doorway, phasers drawn. "You will come with us willingly, or we shall stun you," the lead Shal announced, waving his phaser threateningly.
Quickly calculating the odds, she decided it would probably be very stupid to try to resist...for the moment. "Very well," she said, covering her real personality with one that was much more Vulcan. Her poker face was already in action. "Take me where you wish."
The Shal "escorted" her to a medium-sized room deeper inside the mountain. Jessie and Karin, both stunned, were already inside and were being guarded by five armored Shal. One of the Tor, a'Mro, was glaring at the Shal from the corner. Her double-jointed arms were held in an elaborately-styled pair of steel handcuffs, and her short muzzle was strapped shut.
Appearing disinterested, she turned to face the Shal who seemed to be the leader. "What is the meaning of this?" she asked.
"Your StarFleet shall never allow us Shal to go free," he said. "We are therefore finding a major advantage in negotiation. We trade places with the Tor, or the Federation loses three officers."
Allison's face was unreadable, but inside her head, her mind was racing at lightspeed. Three officers...that means they don't know Damian's here. Somewhere. Focusing her thoughts, she reached out along the Bond. Deletham? Her message was blocked by some kind of wall, and she belatedly realized that the mountain was made of some kind of stone that inhibited psychic energies. Damn. Guess I'd better start thinking of a way to overpower these guys.
"My ship is in orbit," she warned them. "If you kill us, my crew will know, and they will retaliate."
The Shal waved his phaser dismissively. "It is better to die for a cause than to live in shame without one. We will defend our honor and our innocence of the crime with which we are accused, even if it means becoming...what do you humans say?...martyrs."
Allison cursed silently. Damn. Nothing worse than a group of aliens with nothing to lose. To the Shal, she merely raised an eyebrow and remained silent.
Evidently deciding that the conversation was over, the Shal gestured with the tip of his phaser that she should join the other hostages. She did so, but her mind was already searching for a way to escape or overpower the Shal soldiers. Dammit, Damian, where as you?
As it turned out, Damian was just outside the mountain at the time. Humming to himself, he entered the massive rocky building, heading for the quarters he had used. He brushed his hand over the Gr'loev knife again, and smiled. Allison's gonna love this, he thought happily to himself. I wonder if she's awake yet?
As he turned the last corner, he froze. Pieces of the heavy stone door lay strewn about the corridor, and the main block of the door was actually melted into the wall. There wasn't a single sign of life.
Finally breaking past the paralyzing terror, he bolted forward and leapt through the hole left in the wall. "Allison? ALLISON?" His eyes darted around the room, but all he saw was a few twisted bedsheets next to the bed, and Allison's communicator underneath it.
Swearing like a drunken sailor, Damian ran toward the room that Jessie and Karin had been staying in. It was empty as well, with a few pieces of broken ceramic testifying that whatever had happened, they hadn't given up without a fight.
Forcing himself to go through a Jedi calming technique, he closed his eyes and reached out with the Force for clues. Ael? he sent along the Bond he shared with the captain. But his message was blocked, and he quickly realized that somehow the mountain muted their Bond. Opening his eyes, he sighed in irritation. Guess I'll have to use the old-fashioned method. He took out his communicator and flipped it open. "Beresford to Yel'Hal-tor."
"Yel'Hal-tor here," Kristian's voice responded. "A bit early for check-in, isn't it?"
"That's because it's not check-in time," Damian growled. "Look, this isn't the time for witty word games. Ael, Jessie, and Karin are missing, and it looks like they put up a fight. See if you can locate them on sensors."
There was a pause, and then Kristian sent back a reply. "We're picking up lifesigns that correspond with Vulcan, Romulan-human, and Klingon-human patterns," he confirmed. "But they're coming from deep within the mountain, and we can't seem to get a transporter lock. Something in the stone, I'd guess."
"How far from my current position?" he asked, thinking fast.
"About a kilometer north-west, at a vertical angle of thirty-seven degrees. That'd make about two levels up. Do you need backup?"
There was an amused snort from the comm speaker, and a voice on the bridge said, "Are you kidding? Him, need backup for her? Nah, I'm sure he can handle it."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Damian smiled slightly. "Way to be optimistic, Cobalt."
"My pleasure. What about weapons?"
"A phaser might be nice, but it would take too long to get outside the mountain, within beam-in range. I'll be fine," he decided.
"Understood and agreed with," Kristian responded. "Yel'Hal-tor out."
Damian closed his communicator and turned his smoldering gaze in the direction Kristian had indicated. Once I get my hands on you, you'll be sorry you ever messed with us, he thought in their direction. Here's looking at you, kids.
1 Ancient Vulcan sword, very hard to find outside of museums