Chapter Nine

Beckett sat at a small table for two in the back of the coffee shop next to the illusion fireplace. It wasn't cold enough to need a fire, but the hologram helped with the ambiance of the cozy hang out. Sipping at a black coffee Beckett glanced at the time as he noticed Salen walking through the front door.

"On time, right down to the second..."

Smiling to himself Beckett allowed Salen to scan the dim shop for him. The Vulcan caught sight of him, but hesitated to approach. He looked around nervously, as though expecting a trap. Beckett smiled and motioned for Salen to join him. After one more glance around Salen walked over and stood by the table.

"Have a seat, please."

"Thank you, Brigadier." Salen said as he sat down.

"Respectful...I like that."

"Why have you asked me here?"

"And to the point." Beckett smiled. "I thought a nice public place would make you feel a little more at ease."

"I had already come to that conclusion. What is should have asked is: what do you want with me?"

"Have you ever seen a black diamond?"

"No."

Beckett reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace that resembled the dog tags used by Earth's historic military. Set in the face of the silver tag was a glittering black stone. He held it up for Salen's inspection and then flipped it over so that Salen could see that unlike a traditional tag there was no personal information, just a stylized engraving of a doberman pincher.

"Salen, I want you to join our team."

"Are you a division of Starfleet?"

"Yes and no."

"That does not really answer my question."

"No it really doesn't." Beckett admitted. "We are our own division, however, we report to the few members who are at the very top of Starfleet. Everyone else is on a 'need to know' basis, and so far they haven't needed to know anything."

"I still do not fully understand."

"Let's just say that we have the same ideals as Starfleet, but not exactly the same methods."

"Why would your methods need to be different?"

"You really are Vulcan." Beckett chuckled.

"I assumed you already knew that."

"Our methods need to be different because sometimes traditional tactics aren't enough. In those cases we are called in to...solve problems."

"Illegal operations." Salen pieced together as he got to his feet. "No, thank you."

"Wait, Salen, sit back down, hear me out."

"I have already heard what I need to hear."

"You think I'm a 'bad guy'." Beckett said. "Nothing could be further from the truth. We're the good guys. The men we go up against: they are nothing short of evil. Men who must be stopped."

"That is what Starfleet and the Federation is for."

"Salen, there are times when diplomacy simply doesn't work. Black Diamond Dogs have the freedom that Starfleet Officers can't have when it comes to dealing with hostiles. Starships are a blunt instrument, we are a precision weapon."

"Starfleet Officers use violence as an absolute last resort, it sounds like you use it as a first option."

"We simply do what it takes to make sure that Starfleet and her interests are protected."

"And I intend to do exactly that, as an Officer in the fleet."

"Your talents will be wasted there. You could do so much more good with us." Beckett pressed. "We make a real difference in the galaxy. It is the hardest, and most rewarding job in the Universe. We only make this offer to the best of the best, and you are one of the best that I've seen in over a decade. You would have a chance to put your strength, smarts, skills, and courage not just to work, but to the test as well. You have what it takes to be a cunning warrior."

Beckett could see that Salen believed the statement, but was too humble to admit to it. He was still standing, looking ready to leave with his characteristic nervous edge. Beckett felt almost privileged that Salen would stay this close of his own free will, like having an encounter with a rare wild animal that could kill you if it wished, but had decided to just investigate. Beckett offered him a seat once more and Salen slowly settled back down at the table.

"Come with me, meet the others, hear their stories, then you can decide." Beckett offered casually. "We can go right now, and if you want to stay you can."

"What about the rest of my time at the Academy? I am not due to graduate for another six months."

"Salen," Beckett grinned "you and I both know there isn't a class at the Academy that you can't teach. You're better than anyone here to the point that you don't fit in, you would be right at home with us."

Salen furrowed his unnaturally white brow together in thought. Beckett could almost hear his young companion thinking over the offer. Curiosity was not something that Vulcans were particularly known for, but he could tell he had Salen's interest.

"I must discuss this with my father first."

"Okay, that's a problem." Beckett said quickly. "Your father happens to be one of those people who 'doesn't need to know', in fact he's at the top of that list."

"He is a respected Admiral."

"I know, trust me I know, and I have nothing but pure admiration for Admiral Pike. However, he can't know about any of this. You are forbidden to go public with anything you see, hear, or do while in our service. You will be given a credible and believable cover story for your time with us. However, even this conversation is strictly between you and I."

"And if I do tell my father or anyone else that matter?"

"We punish traitors the old fashion way: we put them to death."

"Perhaps you should have told me that before telling me anything else. It would have saved us both a great deal of time."

"Don't worry, we have never assassinated any of our members for treason. Black Diamond Dogs are loyal to the core because they are proud of who they are."

"That is not the issue here." Salen got back to his feet and offered Beckett a polite bow before turning to leave.

"Salen..."

"I will not lie to my father." Salen said firmly. "Live long, and prosper Brigadier Beckett."

"Okay." Beckett said sadly. "Thank you for your time. You have a bright future in Starfleet."

"Thank you."

Beckett watched Salen leave. The Vulcan had made his mind up and didn't even look back over his shoulder. For a while Beckett just stared at the door. Eventually turning his attention back to his coffee he took a sip and found it distastefully cold. Putting it down he looked at the time.

"I didn't want to have to do this..." Beckett sighed "but I guess it's time for 'plan B'."

Getting up from the table Beckett picked up the duffle bag that had been sitting at his feet. He slipped into the bathroom and changed into less formal clothing. Taking the bag with him he wandered across town to a seedy bar. He ordered a classic beer and nursed it at a booth at the back of the bar.

Beckett was on his third beer when 'plan B' arrived. Trevor Langin didn't have any of the nervous qualities that Salen had. Despite the fact that he looked like he'd been beaten up by a Klingon he strode into the bar like he was looking for a fight. Langin looked directly at Beckett, and then walked to the bartender.

After ordering a straight whiskey and knocking it back Langin gave Beckett a closer inspection. Beckett raised an expecting eyebrow. Langin chuckled and walked over. He looked down on Beckett with a grin.

"You, Nelson?" Langin asked.

"Yes, Sir." Beckett nodded. "Join me?"

"You buying?"

"Of course."

Langin sat down and called the bartender over for another round. The pair sat in silence for a moment while they waited for their drinks. Once they were served Langin quickly drained his beer. Acting far more drunk than he was Beckett kept his shoulders slumped and his elbows resting on the sticky table. Langin looked Beckett over, clearly not impressed.

"So, you said you knew my father?" Langin asked.

"That's right, a great man."

"So I've been told." Langin shrugged. "My mother left him with me when I was just a kid."

"He was an inspiration to us all."

"'Us all'? You talk like his little group still exists."

"I assure you it does."

"As much as I'd love to sit here and chat about my father and his legacy, perhaps you can just get to the part where I can at least pretend that I care."

"There is a Vulcan at the Academy..."

"What about him?" Langin snarled.

"I want him." Beckett hissed in a low snarl.

"What the fuck does that have to do with me?"

"I want you to get him for me."

"You're drunk."

"That I am." Beckett smiled. "That doesn't change the fact that I need to get my hands on that miserable pointed-eared alien bastard."

"What do you want him for?" Langin asked.

"That's my business."

"So why are you telling me?"

"Because you have access to him and I don't." Beckett replied. "I am not allowed on the Academy campus."

"I'm still not really seeing how this is my concern."

"I want you to catch him and bring him to me."

"What? Are you insane?"

"Maybe." Beckett shrugged. "I will make it worth your while."

After glancing around Beckett brought the duffle bag up on the table. He opened it so that only Langin could see the contents. When Langin reached out to touch it Beckett pulled back defensively and closed the bag once more.

"Is that gold?"

"Better." Beckett grinned. "Gold-pressed latinum."

"That must be a small fortune."

"Actually it's a large fortune. It's yours if you bring me that scraggly Vulcan."

"Forget it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you two were friends."

"We're not!" Langin spat. "It is simply an impossible task. I can't exactly just sneak up on him and drag him off campus."

"No, you can't...he'll kick your ass again."

"Fuck you."

Beckett chuckled and reached into his pocket. Once again looking around he brought out a small oval device with a single button on it. He held it out for Langin's inspection for a moment before pressing the contact button. To the men in the bar the only thing that happened is the button on the device turned from blue to red.

"Uh...nothing's happening." Langin said unimpressed.

"Not to our ears, however..." Beckett touched the device against his beer and the ultrasonic vibration caused the surface of the drink to dance "to a Vulcan who's never trained to control emotion and pain this little sound is sheer agony."

"Really?" Langin leaned forward in interest.

"Really."

"I still don't see how it will help me 'catch' him for you."

"The Vulcan wanders the campus late at night, particularly the path between the medical school dorms and the main campus. There are plenty of places to ambush him along the way. Set this device off and he'll be on his knees in so much pain he won't even be able to scream."

"Then what? There are few things more dangerous than a wounded animal."

"I have a hypospray full of enough sedative to bring down a bull Fengorian Yak-beast, and a pair of Vulcan-rated ion cuffs." Beckett assured. "Subdue him and take him up into the forest on the north side of the Academy, I'll take it from there."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Let's just say that your father and I were good friends and I'm looking for a little...retribution. Don't worry, no one will ever see him again and no one will care."

"I don't know about that. He may be a green blooded freak, but he's still an Admiral's son."

"I'll double the latinum."

Langin tried to look disinterested on the outside, but Beckett could see the greed and excitement gleaming in his eyes. Reaching out Langin took the sonic device from Beckett and turned it over in his hands a few times. Turning it on again Langin touched it against the glass and watched the liquid buck and jump. A broad grin spread across his bruised face as he looked up at Beckett.

"Do you want him dead or alive?"

"Alive...I need him alive."

"Shame."

"Do we have a deal?" Beckett asked.

"Get a cage ready for your new pet."

"Excellent, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise."