“Approaching station docking.” Tareya Khorlett worked the helm section of the bridge while Hasara sat in the seat next to her, working the limited sensors and handling communications with the station.

He reported, “They’ve cleared us.”  The Kaplan F17-class freighter shifted closer to the docking port until a resounding thud shook the ship, and the Cardassian captain added, “Docking complete.”  He stood, “You know the drill. Sound the alarm if anything looks, feels, or smells off.”  She nodded, her eyes already focused on the console’s various screens, which reported the passive and active sensor reports.  He entered the second deck and found his Romulan head of security, Sinai t’Parthok, waiting indifferently at the docking door.  Next to her was his newest addition to the crew, Taya Monroe.  Mostly medical, she’d spent the ten days of travel getting to know her charge, Gracie Lothan.  Hasara wasn’t sure what to make of her as he caught a glance from her guarded eyes.  Dain Kessler was behind her, his eyes taking the time to study the tablet of data about the trade station.

Hasara greeted her, “Taya.”

“Guv-nah,” said Taya in a passable British accent.  She wasn’t sure why she liked calling him that.  Aside from getting to know her new crewmates and giving each of them a physical, there wasn’t a lot to do on the long trip.  Fun had to be made whenever possible.

Hasara rolled his eyes, but let a smile temper his reply.  “Sinai will be in front, I’ll be behind her, then you, then Kessler.  Anything gets hot, take cover.”

Taya nodded.  She had been briefed, though she had the feeling she wasn’t given the full background story.  Maybe it was a test to see how well she would perform and be trusted.  Whatever it was, she was surprisingly calm.

Kessler checked his weapons before sliding them forcefully back in their holsters.  “It’d suck to start our first diplomatic effort with some phaser fire.  He caught Taya’s glance and nodded to Sinai, “If it were up to her, we’d go in blasting our way through.”

The Romulan security lead shrugged, “I do what I do best.”  She rolled her eyes, sans a smile, at Hasara’s long and resolute stare.  “But we’re going to try it the nice way first.”

“The nice way is good,” said Taya.  There was still a piece of Starfleet in her.

Hasara nodded. “I’d rather pay you and avoid having you practice battlefield medicine in your first week. Reputation or not, we don’t want to be known for kicking down every door we land at.” He met each team member’s eyes. “I’ll keep saying it so we don’t make mistakes.”  A low muttered agreement passed each of their lips.  “Then let’s go.”

They walked through the dock door into the small dock and promenade area.  It was bleakly lit, and the plants in the planters had seen better days.  Some lights flickered, and a lone bored Klingon stood at the desk that straddled the entrance to the rest of the post.

Hasara mused, “That’s not where they spend their money.”  He approached the Klingon and handed over his tablet with the ship’s information, passenger manifest, and declarations.  “SS Wandering Wolf, Captain Hasara.” The tattered nameplate read, ‘Klasac,’ and the indifferent Klingon checked the paperwork, stabbed at an archaic console computer, grunted a few times as the whir of the computer parts shuddered, coaxing the data from the central computer.

Klasac returned the tablet. “You are cleared to enter. Superintendent Khora has requested your presence in her office.” He pointed to the bright light from the long and wide second-floor window, a backlit lone figure staring at them across the promenade.  Hasara thanked the man, and they stepped onto the station proper.

Hasara gathered his crew.  “I didn’t anticipate her asking to see us.  Thoughts?”

Dain’s eyes were on the window and the figure. “It could be a trap. They saw us coming, paid this Khora with empty promises about what she’d get if she turned us over.”  He shrugged, “We’ve got some capital we can use to buy her out, if that’s the case.”

Sinai’s hands lazily rested on the grips of her pistols.  She looked from Hasara to Kessler to Monroe, wondering, “She might be operating independently from those above her.  Hell, she could be playing with Voss.”

Hasara didn’t like any of the options.  He pointed to each of them, “They haven’t taken our weapons or asked us to deposit them somewhere.  Either she’s playing a larger and longer game or wants to talk to us.”  He said, “Let’s find out which one it is.”

They walked up a long, wide staircase, down a corridor, and through the open door to the office, where the Cardassian, Superintendent Khora, stood facing away from them, her hands clasped neatly behind her back.  She turned slightly at their entrance, as if annoyed at their presence.  “From Gul to Governor to Owner and Operator.  You’ve managed well.”

Hasara did not move as the team spread out opposite the Superintendent.  “They didn’t make it easy.”  He gasped out an audible sigh, “You knew we were coming.  What’s the play here?”  His eyes remained bolted to the back of her head until she finally turned to face him.

She was middle-aged and her Cardassian beauty was understated.  Her eyes were the story, and they burned with various emotions.  Hasara judged all those feelings he saw to be dangerous, making Kohra a possible problem. He listened as she spoke, “There are a lot of plays.  They all depend on how you answer my question – what are you doing here?  What is your play?”

Hasara had lied to others before.  He wasn’t opposed to it when the need was for it.  In this situation, he decided that the truth was the option to keep them alive and keep at bay whatever simmering malice was hiding behind Khora’s fierce eyes. “We’re here to work backwards to find those who want my partner and me dead.  We had a report or two that suggested you’d be open to discussing working our way up the line.”  He cocked his head to the side, “Rumor was that you’d fallen out of favor with those up the line.”

Find those who want my partner and me dead? thought Taya. How much are they not telling me?

Khora frowned, her emotions shifting rapidly before settling on curiosity as she asked, “Was there nobody else who fit the bill, Hasara?” She laughed, a surprised smile filling her face. “Your information is not wrong, but it is even more outdated.” Khora tossed him a tablet, “That came in a few hours ago.”

Hasara read it quickly, asking even quicker, “They’re going to burn…you?

Superintendent Khora sat roughly in her chair, seemingly resigned to her fate. “They’ll be here in two hours. The shuttles are all gone. And…,” she tapped at her console, “Klasac has taken the last runabout with the remaining crew as ordered.”

Hasara tapped his communicator link in his ear, “Tareya, prepare for emergency departure.” He quickly filled her in, and she swore before closing the channel. He turned back to Khora, “You’re coming with us.”

A shrug was her initial response. “Why? They’ll just track me down and kill me, just like they’re going to kill you. I did some bad things, Hasara. Similar to your playbook, actually. I think it’s time to stop running.”

Taya was not happy that she was dragged into the middle of a vendetta. Once they got out of this place, she might need to reconsider her choice to join the crew. “Lady, shut up and come with us. Living is always the better choice.”

Hasara stood to his full height, and his voice hardened in a rare forceful tone laced with seething anger, “Conscious or not, you’re coming with us. I need you to track back the mystery, and you need me to keep you alive. Taya is right – life is worth living. Let’s go.”

Khora’s eyes widened at the sudden display. She stuttered, “I haven’t seen that side of you in a while. Let’s go, then. We’re all dead humans and aliens walking at this rate.”

Hasara scoffed as he led the team, running out of the office and bounding for the dock, “Not if I have anything to do with it.”