"Mercenary's Report Number 633549- I have located the perfect subject to finally fulfill my mission. Naturally, I expect Full- Payment upon delivery. I will send coordinates when ready."

The man shook his head, having reverted into his assumed personality's way of saying things when he said "full payment."

His character was rather fond of emphasis and long pauses. A penchant for the dramatic too. He'd been worried at first that no one could possibly take him seriously and that his gambit of going over the top would never work.

Really, the agent had been quite surprised that he'd managed to stay undercover this long. It had been years. Plus, he'd been using his real name, something his Vidiian employers had insisted upon. Likely to make it harder for him to slip away from them should he fail here.

Voyager had been a happy accident while he'd been pursuing a different prize for them, but they had offered him a king's ransom just for the little information he'd been able to send. He figured it would be worth a few years of his life, especially when he heard the updated amount for the new prize they wanted. A hundred times more. An emperor's ransom, with promises of immortality if the Vidiians used it to cure the Phage since they'd claimed that after the Phage, the little problem of getting old would be nothing.

Maybe they were lying, but either way, he'd be able to secure payment before giving up the prize.

The agent looked over at the device that hid his activities from any prying eyes a bit nervously to confirm it was working.

An old habit.

Where was he again?

Ah yes.

"I believe it would be too dangerous to try kidnapping any other crew members since the more I have to knock out, the more I will likely have to kill during exfiltration, decreasing the likelihood that I will get you a living specimen. Plus, it's my understanding that the samples I sent for the other species were not nearly as exciting as the one you have selected."

The agent smiled in the mirror, sly and expectant, unlike any expression he would ever make as his character. The muscles actually hurt in his mouth as he had made that expression, a very natural one on his real face, but such an unnatural one for his character that he felt an ache from atrophy.

It would all be worth it. He would find a way to kill those who were the most insolent to him during the past years. A small indulgence, but worth it.

Then, the money. Enough to get his revenge, for real this time. He'd foolishly let the chance slip through his fingers some years ago and then lost to him forever. But this time- this time his revenge would be felt by an entire planet, with the resources he'd have access to and the friends he was making.

Then, luxury, of course. Not that it had been so bad here. His hosts had impressive technology unlike anything else he'd ever seen. It's the reason why he'd agreed to stay long-term, being paid even though he could scarcely use his funds, and could only confirm the account's existence, He'd lived like a king even in his assignment, but nothing like he'd have soon.

There would be freedom from the aggravating limits he'd endured on this vessel, despite the ability to create nearly anything he wanted from scratch.

There would be women, of course. Maybe he'd even hunt down that tart that had escaped him.

There would be real entertainment. Enough to fill a planet. There would be smiling and happy faces again, after an eternity living among this dour bunch of "might as well be dead" people whose idea of entertainment, such as it was, very rarely even contained any death. Where were the stakes in that?

The possibility of maybe even buying his own planet danced in his mind, a holodeck simulation solidifying into reality.

Soon.

But not yet.

He finished his report and quickly put away his device before practicing his character in the mirror some more. The boundaries between himself and his character were thinning. He really needed to get out of here.

Just then an alarm went off. Rather than allowing himself to be surprised, he listened intently for the exact pattern.

Three beats, one, two.

The log he'd deleted yesterday in preparation for his departure had been breached.

Someone was on to him.

Quickly, he made inquiries with the computer, making sure to cover his tracks. That's when he knew.

It was her.

Of course it was.

Fortunately, this would only prove his point and increase her value to his employers.

She was quite a specimen.

In more ways than one.

He knew based on her inquiries, which were mostly analyzing subspace transmissions and the crumbs of his archive cleansing through Voyager's bio-neural gel pack systems that she'd detected, that she did not yet know about his treachery or anything about what was going on at all.

That meant that it was time. He had to move on capturing his target, and getting her out of the ship quickly while confusing the ship and giving him time to exfiltrate to safety.

The agent knew that he had little time, so he initiated some of the escape plans he had set long before, and prepared several items in a bag, including his privacy device. his device for subverting doors and computer systems, and a few other things he would need, including preparations he had made in his room, just in case.

And with that, he grabbed an "agent" of a sort on his own and hurried toward the Galley.

"Neelix! What are you doing here? I thought you were taking a break from cooking today, you know to 'save us from your cooking which is just so bad', or whatever other melodramatic thing you said?" Paris put forth minimal effort while actually copying Neelix's mannerisms, as was his custom.

The agent's false face came back on smoothly, too smoothly. It was time to go. Paris was one of those boorish, overly confident jackanapes that Neelix sincerely hoped he'd have the opportunity to kill before this was over.

He went straight to the kitchen, finding a large bowl, and immediately dropping in some bananas and some almonds, as many as he could find. The bananas were getting pretty soft and overripe, which was actually good. It was important to hide the taste as much as possible. He also threw in whatever other random stuff he could find, trying to make it look like he was selecting carefully.

"Well, as it turns out, Mr. Paris," Neelix said, carefully making sure he was out of sight during this last bit, "Some people properly appreciate my cooking. In fact, I'll have you know, my "Tlaxian Root and Banana Surprise" is quite popular."

"Is the surprise that the bananas are rotting?" The buffoon asked. Neelix tried to shake off the image his mind was making of sliding his Vidiian blade right into Mr. Paris' neck, the blood pouring out as necrotic poison took his whole body.

What a beautiful sight Paris would make, lying on the floor, watching as his own body rotted rapidly, just like these bananas.

But no, he had a job to do. He took the laughter and self-congratulatory posturing of the buffoon as an opportunity to add his agent into the mix without anyone noticing.

Your previous predictable vigor to eat my cooking in order to proclaim how bad it is without even thinking has made you so easy to experiment on, Mr. Paris, Neelix thought.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, he said, indicating Tom and a few of his friends, "I am quite finished with being rudely and unfairly insulted today."

And with that, he turned his chin up and walked out of the room, the unentertaining blitherings of that jackass well beneath his notice. Although it was part of his mildly buffoonish character, Neelix had to admit he loved putting that jackass in his place on a regular basis, even if no one else could see it, yet.

Just wait until you realize how dim you've all been, he thought, grinning internally.

As soon he was outside, he turned the opposite direction of where he wanted to go and activated his privacy device. It shouldn't set off any alarms yet, but it would within a day or two.

He would be long gone with his prize by then, of course.

As soon as he knew it was working, and that playback from any recording or locating devices would produce only malfunctions, he turned around and headed straight for his intended destination.

The Astrometrics Lab.

r/realityzero