When the Orion spoke this time, there was a definite hint of menace in his voice. “Listen to me, human. You’re coming with me, one way or another. Do so willingly, and we may be able to look past any transgressions you may have committed. Force me to engage security, and the consequences will be severe.”
“There’s just one problem with that,” Reyes said, adding a new edge to his own words. “You and I both know you’re not in charge of much more than making sure there’s booze behind the bar and toilet paper in the bathrooms, neither of which I need right now. So, unless you’re acting on behalf of someone with more pull around here, I’ll be going now.”
As he expected—indeed, as he hoped—Reyes felt the pull of a hand on the left sleeve of his jacket just as he was turning away from Lekkar. He felt the Orion’s fingers beginning to tighten around his forearm, which was all he needed. Guided by instinct, as much as years of training to the point where such actions were all but reflexive in nature, Reyes whirled back toward Lekkar. He twisted his left arm so that his left hand now found purchase on the Orion’s arm, at the same time stepping closer just as he noted his opponent’s other hand reaching for something beneath his jacket. Before Lekkar could retrieve whatever weapon he had hidden there, Reyes lashed out with the edge of his other hand, catching the Orion in the throat.
The effect was immediate, as Reyes felt Lekkar’s hand loosen its grip on his sleeve as he staggered backward, coughing and reaching for his wounded throat. As he stumbled, something long and shiny fell from his other hand, and Reyes heard the clatter of metal against the deck. Lekkar fell against the bar as well as a brawny Tellarite who was sitting there, dressed in khaki overalls that Reyes recognized as being from one of the civilian transports currently docked at Vanguard. The husky freight-hauler growled his displeasure at Lekkar, who was oblivious to the offense he had caused, occupied as he was with rubbing his throat and trying to catch his breath. Despite his dislike for the Orion, Reyes was happy he had not killed him, as that was not his intention. Making the irritable lackey pause and consider his decision to start a confrontation, along with any other questionable life choices, would be sufficient for the message Reyes wanted to send to other members of Ganz’s organization who had to be watching this quarrel.
Seeing the disapproving look on the bartender’s face, Reyes held up empty hands to demonstrate he was carrying no weapons. “Self-defense,” he said, before pointing to the long, nasty-looking blade with its serrated edge that still lay on the deck near his feet. “He pulled a knife on me.” This actually seemed to placate the bartender as he reached for an intercom switch set into the wall behind the bar and spoke into the panel. Reyes could not hear what the Orion was saying, though he guessed someone in a position of authority was being notified. The bartender touched the panel again to deactivate it, then returned to the bar and produced a new glass, which he filled with the same Aldebaran whiskey Reyes had been drinking earlier.
“On the house,” the Orion said, gesturing toward Lekkar, who had pulled himself to his feet long enough to make a hasty retreat from the bar. “I never liked him, anyway.”
3
In his private office, Ganz looked at the computer display monitor that occupied one corner of his expansive desk, trying to decide whether he preferred it with the rather large hole that now dominated the center of its screen.
“You really should stop doing that,” said Neera, Ganz’s confidante and lover—and employer—from where she lounged on a sofa positioned along the office’s far wall. Dressed in a silky red robe that left her arms and much of her legs exposed, she held a wine goblet in her left hand, while her right toyed with the knot of the robe’s belt at her slim waist. “Do you have any idea how much those things cost?”
His mood still foul, Ganz shrugged as he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, which still stung from the impact of his fist against the computer terminal. “It’s therapeutic.”
“If it’s therapy you want,” Neera said, her lips forming a teasing smile, “then you should hire a private counselor.”
Ganz indicated the destroyed computer monitor. “This is easier, and I don’t have to worry about it repeating anything I say in confidence.” The faint aroma of her perfume caught his attention, and he eyed her for a moment as she reclined on the couch. “Besides, I have you for therapy.”
“True enough,” Neera replied before taking a sip of her wine. “So, what is it that has you so upset?”
Stifling the urge to emit a growl of frustration, Ganz stood up and began to pace the length of the office. “I just reviewed security footage of the gaming deck. Lekkar took it upon himself to confront Reyes.”
Neera frowned. “About what?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m having Tonzak bring him up here.” The security footage from the gaming deck had not included an audio recording of the exchange between Reyes and Lekkar, though it had with stark clarity captured the physical altercation that had transpired. The visual record showed with certainty that Lekkar had initiated the brief scuffle, but despite his greater age and presumably lesser physical strength, Reyes had brought the skirmish to a quick conclusion with the speed and efficiency Ganz expected from someone with Starfleet close-combat training.
“Lekkar is an opportunist,” Neera said, rising from the sofa and adjusting her robe. “No doubt he was attempting to curry favor with you. He’s always fancied himself as being more important than he really is.”
Ganz nodded. “I know how he feels.” The comment earned him a knowing, even approving smile from Neera. “He may be an opportunist, but he’s not a complete fool. If he confronted Reyes, then he must have seen or heard something that made him suspicious.” Grunting in irritation, he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. “That insufferable human causes me grief in every manner imaginable. I should have killed him long before now.”
“That will come in due course, my lover,” Neera said. “For now, we still need him.”
Snorting in grudging agreement, Ganz nodded. “I know.” Allowing Reyes to seek sanctuary aboard the Omari-Ekon, after which he had assisted Ganz in negotiating with Starbase 47’s commanding officer, Admiral Nogura, for the ship to be able to dock at Vanguard once again, was an unexpected coup. Sheltered underneath the very large umbrella of protection afforded by the massive space station, Ganz was reasonably certain that his enemies—of which there were many—would not risk Starfleet’s wrath by attempting to attack him here. Both he and Neera also knew that Nogura wanted to keep Reyes close, even if Federation laws and Starfleet regulations prevented him from taking any direct action to retrieve him from the Orion ship. It was therefore an odd, symbiotic relationship enjoyed by all involved parties, each dancing around the other and unwilling to take any action that might upset the delicate balance they had established.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered alternatives to keeping him around,” Neera said as she crossed to the small bar set into the wall near the balcony at the back of the office.
Releasing a humorless chuckle, Ganz replied, “You mean like poisoning his food? Pushing him down a turbolift shaft? Having him suffer an unfortunate accident at the hands of one of my less-experienced yet overly eager security guards?” To him, the options for engineering Reyes’s demise seemed limitless; the problem was finding the one solution that would not arouse the suspicion—or the ire—of Admiral Nogura.
“Nothing so overt,” Neera said, reaching for a wine carafe sitting on the bar and pouring some of its contents into her goblet. “Besides, dead or severely injured, he’s of no use to us. There’s too much information in that head of his to simply kill him.”