Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters created therein.

A/N: Each of the characters in this story is representative of something I particularly like or find important in the Star Trek universe. Bohemir is the classic officer: he is dedicated to Starfleet and very, very good at his job. He is a real father figure to the member of his crew, the emotional side of the command structure: a balance to Sovak's more objective logic. A widower, Bohemir finds that he has come to think of this ship and its crew as a sort of family.

-

First Impression, Chapter 6: Old Friends, New Twist

Identify, the voice on the comm link stated flatly. It was a male voice and Bohemir wondered if it was a recording. He looked at his shuttle companions, dressed in motley fashion, before answering—

Identify, the voice insisted again, the irritation in it indicating that there was indeed someone on the other end of the transmission.

"We are from the vessel Temujin," Bohemir said. "We request permission for our shuttle to dock and for the crew to come aboard the station." This was a huge gamble and he knew it. They had no information about the station or how it operated. For all they knew they needed a password or an introduction to get in.

Temujin, state your purpose at Par'at Nor.

"We understand that your station is the only place in the Beta Quadrant to purchase certain…items…that are not otherwise widely available. We would like to substantiate this claim."

The comm was silent. Bohemir remained calm, but the silence stretched on.

You may dock at port lanat tvo, came the reply. We will search your vessel. Be advised that if our security force identifies you as a possible threat you will be immediately incarcerated and your ship destroyed.

"Acknowledged," Bohemir answered shortly. These guys didn't mess around! He guided the shuttlecraft to the identified port.

-

It looked like a rat on a stick, but he was hungry so he tried it. He didn't exactly know what rat on a stick might taste like, but he guessed that this delicacy was a good approximation.

VeJack had wandered Par'at Nor for hours, watching, waiting. He was now sitting outside a small and rather dingy eating establishment chewing on he knew not what to avoid arousing suspicion. People hanging around here who looked like they were waiting for something were not viewed with trust—and many of the characters that frequented the station were likely to shoot first and ask questions never.

VeJack chewed mercilessly, frustrated that things were moving so slowly. This had been in the works for so long and now that the big finale was here it felt like everything had ground to a halt. Did his colleagues know what they were doing? Were all interested parties truly in place?

He calmed himself by turning his mind to more practical matters. He would have to purchase lodgings for the night and none of the available berths were appealing. Maybe he could find a quiet place on the promenade and catch some sleep before the next sale…

He saw them heading across the crowded open lower level. They moved not as a group but as part of the crowd. VeJack had to give them credit, they didn't look at all like Starfleet—he never would have guessed had he not seen and memorized their faces from their personnel files. He stood, his rat forgotten, and moved to watch them more closely.

He stopped short—VeJack wasn't the only one interested in the band of travelers. Several "undercover" security officers (though, VeJack reflected, perhaps thugs was more accurate) were following them. This was not good. It meant that whatever cover story the Starfleet officers had given, it hadn't been entirely convincing. Pevet had ordered that they be tailed. Any false moves and they would be taken…and sold. One way or another, Par'at Nor always turned a profit.

Two of them—the Vulcan and Magis—headed for the central stairs. A pair of thugs—both appropriately burly, followed at a quickened pace. This was the way to the ships of the more "established" traders. VeJack now had no doubt that their presence here would raise alarm bells, literally. What the hell were they doing?

With little reflection, he went after them.

-

Una was in full mission mode now. There were five crewmates to keep track of now as well as at least a dozen Dukin to find. She and her colleagues fanned out to search the station, she partnered with Taurik, Vesta with Japel, and Bohemir with another security officer, Ensign Sovez.

The station was a meeting place for dozens of species, all apparently willing to buy or sell anything for the right price. Already Una counted half a dozen violations of Federation trade agreements. The petty sales didn't bother her at the moment though—it was the humanoid trade she was interested in.

She made her way to a stairway in the center of the promenade, Taurik following.

"The readings are becoming clearer," he told her quietly as they descended the stairs.

"Have you located the ship?" her voice was barely audible but his sensitive Vulcan hearing picked it up.

"Not yet."

Neither noticed the shadowy figures tracking their movements and matching them.

-

Japel watched with delight as Vesta threw the drunken Bajoran into the wall. She certainly knew how to handle herself, and her bright blue skin and paramilitary outfit had made many of the males they passed want to handle her as well. The Bajoran was the first that made a concrete attempt and he was rebuffed accordingly.

"I'm not interested," she growled. "I'm here on business, not pleasure," she told him, though it was doubtful he was listening any longer. He appeared, in fact, to have passed out.

Bohemir to away team, their sub-dural communicators sounded. We've found the slave market. It's on the upper level of the station. All teams meet us up here.

"Understood," Vesta muttered and turned to Japel…

And found herself face to face—or rather face to chest—with an enormous humanoid.

"What do you understand?" a deep voice rumbled. A hand came down on her shoulder, a hand which no doubt would have been used as a launching point for the alien's entire body had Vesta not been immobilized by shock. "You shouldn't cause problems, little Andorian."

The intruder's green hand tightened its grip and Vesta felt herself leaving the ground as he lifted. Before she could react she was tossed aside as her assailant was whirled around and thrown out into the crowd.

Japel offered a hand and helped his shipmate back up and they both stared as the giant green figure scrambled to its feet. He still looked angry but Japel's size was an excellent deterrent.

"Guess now we know who's running the show." Japel took Vesta's arm and pulled her away before she could lose her temper.

"Orions!" Vesta hissed.

-

Bohemir was furious and having trouble keeping it in check. He too had figured out who the proprietors of the station were and he was seeing red. Or rather, green. Lots and lots of green. The Orions had signed peace treaty after peace treaty and ostensibly ceased their humanoid trade many years ago. Here they were, though, prodding frightened, babbling aliens onto a pedestal and turning a profit as the bids flew.

Sovez, a fresh-faced security officer with a long braid and a cosmetically placed scar across her nose ("makes me look older," she had explained) was scanning for the missing Dukin when Japel and Vesta arrived a few minutes after his hail. The four of them dispersed through the market to widen their search perimeter.

Most of the humanoids to be sold were being kept in pens in an enclosure at the back of the room, though a few were being transported in from other levels of the station. It soon became apparent that there were slave markets being held in at least two other locations. They would all need to be searched.

"Where are Magis and Taurik?" he asked Japel, mentally divvying up the markets between the away team.

The huge man looked concerned. "I don't know. They didn't come up?"

Bohemir shook his head and tried his communicator again.

"Bohemir to Magis."

There was no response.

"Lt. Taurik, respond."

Lt. Taurik, it seemed, was also out of communicator range.

"Do you know where they were headed?" he asked Japel.

Japel nodded—he had seen them on the stairway. He told Bohemir this.

"Go and check it out," he instructed. "Take Vesta with you."