Mara watched in stunned silence as the action unfolded before her.  When Kurtox roared and leaped from his chair, the Orions guarding him stumbled back.  Kurtox punched one, his nose making a sickening crack that made Mara grimace.  As the second guard recovered and aimed his weapon at Kurtox, Iziraa, who had been acting like she was unbalanced, grabbed a small phaser hidden in her clothing.  Firing, she dropped the guard.  Mousette tried to run behind his desk, but Nick tackled him, his knee pressing on Mousette’s chest.  In the few seconds of silence that followed, Mara smiled in satisfaction.

Kurtox nodded to Iziraa.  “It has been a long time since I fought someone for my life.  I didn’t know how much I missed it.”  He chuckled.

“Are you ready to talk?” said Saunders, his demeanor changed from the odd customer to a man that wouldn’t take no for an answer.  “Our offer still stands.”

Mousette nodded.

Saunders got up and stood over Mousette.

The Syndicate slaver stared at Iziraa, her phaser aimed at him.  Getting up with a grunt, he straightened his clothes.  “Not so crazy after all, I see.”

Iziraa didn’t respond.

Saunders removed a PADD from his vest pocket.  “This contains the necessary information for you to get your payment.  How much are we giving you for Mara?”

“I said she’s not…”

“How much?” shouted Saunders.

Iziraa took a step closer to Mousette, her eyes filled with contempt.

Mousette sighed and named an amount.

Saunders looked at Kurtox.

“That’s fair,” said Kurtox.

Saunders entered the numbers into the PADD and handed it to Mousette.  “Your thumbprint please.”

Sighing, Mousette pressed his right thumb onto the screen and handed back the device.

Saunders motioned for Mara to come to him.  “Remove the restraint.”

Mousette turned back to his desk, with Saunders carefully watching his every move.  Mousette opened a drawer, removing something, which he took to Mara.  Pressing it against her restraint, the punishment device went dark, falling into Mousette’s hand.

“That wasn’t so hard,” said Saunders.  “We could have easily avoided the violence.”

“It’s time for you to go,” said Mousette, a cold tone in his voice.

“I agree,” said Saunders.  “You’ll never see us again.”

“Good-bye, Kurtox.  I’ll be seeing you soon,” said Mousette, his gaze dark and foreboding.

Kurtox chuckled.  “We’re not falling for your trap.”

“What do you mean?” said Saunders.

“Once we’re gone, we’ll need to walk through these corridors, go through the slave area, then to the outer complex, and to the space port section.  There are a hundred places along the way Mousette’s men could ambush us.”

“What should we do?” said Saunders.

Kurtox went behind Mousette’s desk and pressed a button on a console to the right.  The back wall behind the desk slid open, revealing a small transporter with two pads.

“Mousette had this installed in case he ever needed to escape or leave without anyone knowing.”

Mousette was seething.

Kurtox rummaged through the desk drawers until he found a small device.  “This is my communicator.  Mousette’s men took it from me after I was captured.  We can contact my ship computer, get its position, and beam directly there.”

“What do we do with him?” said Saunders, tilting his head towards Mousette.  “We can’t have him sounding an alarm.”

A phaser beam struck Mousette in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Izi!” exclaimed Saunders in wide-eyed shock.

“Relax.  He’s just stunned,” said Iziraa, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Okay then,” said Saunders.

“Well done, my Blue Lady.”  Kurtox gestured to Saunders and Mara.  “You go first.”

Saunders looked at Mara, a large smile on his face.

“Oh, Nick!”  Mara ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, followed by a long and passionate kiss.

Kurtox cleared his throat.

“There’s time for that later,” said Iziraa.  “Get moving, now.”

The couple stepped back from each other.  “Of course,” said Mara.  Holding Saunders’ hand, they stepped onto the transporter platform.

Kurtox activated his computer.  Getting the coordinates, he beamed them away.

“So you worked for Mousette,” said Iziraa.

“That’s how I knew Mara was here,” said Kurtox.  “The rest is a story for another time.  We need to leave.”

The office door opened and an Orion guard stepped inside.  There was an instant of surprise and hesitation, followed by disruptor fire.  Kurtox cried out in pain and fell to the floor.  Iziraa fired at the Orion, dropping him with one shot.

The Klingon had a nasty wound in the middle of his back.  He was panting for breath, and his face showed he was in great pain.

An alarm outside began to blare.

“Go!” said Kurtox, gasping for breath.  “Go now, before more guards arrive.”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” said Iziraa.  With all her strength, she tried dragging the Klingon towards the transporter pad, but he was too heavy.

“There isn’t enough time,” said Kurtox.  He was getting weaker.  “Go.  I will operate the transporter.”

Iziraa could hear the footsteps of the reinforcements that were coming.  Deep down inside, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get Kurtox onto the transporter.

“Go, my Blue Lady.  I will proclaim your deeds in Sto-vo-kor.”

“Kurtox.”  Iziraa’s voice was a whisper.  She handed him her phaser and ran onto the transporter.

With what strength he had left, Kurtox activated the beam out.

As the transporter took her, the last Iziraa saw of her friend, was the joy of a Klingon warrior fighting a great battle.