Navaar Orci sat in the captain’s chair of the USS Stavanger, something she’d rarely done since acquiring the now former Federation vessel.  It had been regarded as bold and foolish move, by the few outside her organisation privy to its undertaking.  But she wanted to make a name for herself and prove she could be a big player in the Syndicate underworld, despite her humble start in life.

She could imagine the shocked looks when she’d done something they were too scared to even contemplate and pulling the impossible off.  This vessel had moved up and down the shipping lanes for months, in full view of everyone; selecting likely target and directing other craft in for the attack.  The whole scheme had worked to near perfection, with the help of a special device which had allowed the Stavanger to mimic any other ship in her class.  Bellbrooke had even managed to program the ‘dots’ to repaint the ship’s hull with the required name and registration to complete the illusion; it could be done in just a few hours.  Only a full and detailed analysis could detect the deception and what Federation vessel was ever going to consider doing that to a fellow ship, going about its everyday duty?

Then some stupid fleet of ships lost in time; had sprung up out of nowhere, and all hell had broken loose!  But that had only been the half of it.  When the automated systems had cut in on ‘Frontier Day’ the Fleet Formation Mode was activated and took over complete control of the ship.  She wasn’t the only one who thought this was some new Federation trick, until the magnitude of what had transpired finally reached them.  To Commander Armitage that was just more proof as to how useless an organisation Starfleet had become.  Only the fact that the transporter system hadn’t been tampered with, prevented any of the crew turning into Borg and potentially killing everyone else.

Finally some bright spark had figured out how the Stavanger had managed to keep alluding them; they changed all the transponder codes for the entire Norway-class fleet, one ship at a time, whenever they reached a starbase.  If proof was needed the engagement at Hydra Cascade was the finally indication that it was time to dispose of this ship, either whole or stripped out and cut up into little pieces.  The 38 Quantum Torpedoes alone had to worth something to someone.

Orci had found someone, through various contacts and back channels, someone who was good at dealing with unusually and sometimes deadly merchandise.  Though as yet she was still to discover the man’s true identity; only that everyone called him ‘The Broker’.

One of his operatives had confirmed that there were three interested parties prepared to make offers, but had not elaborated on whom.  The news to reach her was that the ‘The Broker’ had somehow been captured and was been taken to Eos Station.

“There’s a message coming in from Point Creek.” The Orion female monitoring the ships communication system called out.  Point Creek was one of the freighters currently at her disposal for moving goods around. Its current location, rather fortuitously was Eos Station making a more standard supply run, which it did on occasion.

“Patch it through.” Orci replied.

There was a faint crackling sound over the speakers; followed by the voice of what seemed to be an elderly man. “This Reynard, we have a problem here.”

“What sort of problem?” Orci demanded. “Can’t you be a little more specific?”

“The whole station just went on lockdown.” Reynard answered.

“What do you expect?  They got their hands on one of the most dangerous mastermind’s in the sector if not the Quadrant.”  The Orion woman yelled. “What do you think they’d do?  Invite everyone over and throw a party!” Her hands balled up into fists, frustration clearly etched on her face.  She hated having to rely on people like this; to do her work and gather information, it was far from ideal.

“This is something more than just standard procedure.” Reynard came back. “I’ve been around enough to know the difference between standard security, high security and total panic.  And this looks like total panic to me.”

“Stay where you are and don’t draw any undue attention to yourself and report back if you hear any more.”

“Will do ma’am. Point Creek out.”

Korda, her big muscular right hand man and bodyguard looked at her sternly; arms folded across his chest.  He was the only person that could ever look at Ocri in that way or ever speak his mind without the risk of evoking her wrath.  It was a privileged position, but one he never jeopardised.  “If I’m allowed to say, this situation is getting completely out of hand.”

“Oh I agree. But until I have confirmation as to what’s happening, there is no need to panic.”  She reassured him.  “The Broker has no knowledge of our current location.  So we are in no extra danger.”

“If you say so boss.” He bowed.

The Orion leader turned to the woman on communications.  “Contact Dagger 2 have them reroute to Eos Station and be prepared to tail any Federation vessel that makes a sudden bolt for it, understand?”

“Isn’t that rather dangerous sending one of our attack ship in that close?” Korda asked concerned.

“Yes, but if he’s escaped, been killed or they figure out his main base of operation, I want to know, and that attack ship has more chance of keeping up with any of their ships, than an old freighter.” She replied. “Besides that, his got some of my money and if the deal is going to fall through, I want it back.”

Orci closed her eyes and thought of better days, may be stealing this ship hadn’t been a great idea.