Commander Hargraves stood at the window of his office on Montana Station, watching the coming and going of starships, shuttles and transports. A year and a half had passed since his assignment to the station as Director of Diplomatic Operations. He’d learned plenty in that time. One lesson had been to trust, but verify. Hargraves took one last look out the window and returned to his desk. The next meeting was going to be low on trust, and much higher on verify.
The console on his desk chirped, and the voice of his administrative assistant, Lieutenant Vanessa Lihi, came through, “Commander, Ambassador Drax is here for his appointment.” She kept her voice tightly controlled, and he understood. Drax was smooth and slimy. It was part of his shtick, and Hargraves had uncovered that it was intentional and deliberately designed. He tapped the console and asked her to send him in. He stood, adjusting his uniform and steeling himself. The door to his office slid open, and the Rimward Ferengi Guild Ambassador to the Tholians stepped through, his smile wide.
“Ah, Commander Charlie! It is so good to see you. We seem to miss each other on our lunch dates. I was thinking you didn’t like me.” A wink accompanied the gland-handing smile.
Hargraves clenched his jaw gently, attempting to keep his calm. “It’s Commander Hargraves, Ambassador Drax. As for our meetings, we’ve had some diplomatic matters that required my attention. I’m hoping to get our scheduled discussions back on track next week.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, “Do take a seat.”
The Ferengi’s smile didn’t fade, and he slid into the chair, leaning forward. “I look forward to the calendar invites, Commander Hargraves. Whatever can the Rimward Ferengi Guild Ambassador to the Tholians do for you on this lovely day?”
Charlie slid a PADD across the desk, and Drax hungrily picked it up. Hargraves said, “We’re looking for some help in identifying a convoy that went into Tholian territory a week ago. You’ll see the report from our security team identifying one of the crew as the body found yesterday. We haven’t released that information as we wanted to talk with you first.” The diplomatic officer sat back in his chair. “We’re concerned because we haven’t heard from the convoy. They’re due back in three days.”
Drax indifferently scrolled through the PADD, his eyes steely focused on each word. Hargraves may have been sitting back, but he was watching every move, every shift of the Ferengi ambassador. Captain Ki’s background on the man was spotty at best, but revelatory in useful ways. A suspected spook and game player had been two of the historical records unearthed. The Ferengi slid the PADD back across the table, his face apathetic. “It is not uncommon for our trade teams to run silent while in Tholian territory. This seems like a matter for Starfleet Security, not the diplomatic department.” It was Drax’s turn to lean back in his chair, eyes bright with amusement. “It begs the question. Why am I having a meeting with you and not Commander Thasaz?”
Charlie resisted the urge to slam his fists down on the table and demand answers from Drax. It would needlessly alert the ambassador, who would then alert the convoy, and then all hell would probably break loose. Death and destruction would follow, with the rimward playing host to the annihilation of the Starfleet presence in the rimward. Keeping things around him in one piece was not just a personal desire, but a career requirement for Hargraves. He enjoyed being alive, more or less. He shifted forward in his chair, steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows on his desk. “You’ve had your share of meetings with Commander Thasaz. I wanted to keep the discussions friendly, or at least collegial.” This was partially true. Drax and Thasaz did not get along. Most of their meetings ended with one of them shouting at the other, and sometimes it was both.
Drax’s facial facade dropped for a split second with a barely recognizable glance of confusion. Hargraves felt a quiet smile tug at his lips, but fought it back. “I see,” Drax said hesitantly. “You didn’t just call me here to ask me about an overdue convoy, did you?”
Hargraves allowed the quiet smile to cross his lips. “Deductive as ever, Ambassador.” The Ferengi smiled, his ego stroked. Charlie continued, “The investigation into the death of the crewman has yielded some concerns that I wanted to bring to your attention, and by proxy, the Tholians. You, after all, are our only line of communication with them.” Drax’s smile widened.
“I live to serve, Commander Cha-”, he stopped himself. “Commander Hargraves.”
Charlie slid another PADD across the desk. “We are concerned that elements of the Network may have infiltrated the Rimward Ferengi Guild. We believe the convoy’s delay possibly connects to the Network’s infiltration.” He put his hands up theatrically, and for Drax’s benefit. “It’s not an accusation, Ambassador. It’s a concern.”
Surprisingly, Drax’s face did not try to hide his shock and alarm. His frown was genuine, and he shifted his chair forward, leaning closer to the desk. “Is this office safe from tampering?”
Drax’s sudden change in posture alarmed him, and Charlie was momentarily speechless. He found his words seconds later. “Yes. We sweep, inspect, and scan every four hours.” Hargraves leaned forward, “What do you know?” Drax chortled, amused. Yet there was something more in his eyes, a foreboding worry that seemed to haunt the Ferengi.
“I know nothing, Commander Hargraves. I suspect. I wonder. I question, if only to myself.” He shook his head, distracted by the thoughts running through his mind. “My predecessor vanished while in the rimward. They handpicked me to replace him.” He chuckled darkly. “It was a glorious assignment. Prestigious, even.” His eyes shifted from the carpet to Hargraves, a gaunt expression twisting the face of the Ferengi. “I do not think my predecessor is alive. I think someone murdered him. Why?” He threw up his hands. “Pick a theme from your human spy novels. I’ve learned not to ask questions out loud.” His frustration filled his voice as he grumbled, “I am good at what I do, Commander. I get results. I close deals. I work the angles.” Here, he shook his head, an unusual sadness tinging his voice. “But there is small print.” Drax sighed, “Rule of Acquisition number 8 – Small print leads to large risk.”
Hargraves nodded, adding, “Rule 190 – Hear all, trust nothing.”
Drax grumbled, “Plenty of room in the rules for some unpleasant plots to develop.” He pulled a book from his bag, handing it to Hargraves. “I’ve done some work on this. Not much, but a little. Too many eyes and ears on me and my office. I do not want that back. Almost burned it a few times this week.”
Hargraves flipped through the pages. Most of it was unsubstantiated and wild theories. And yet, there were some ideas or overheard conversations that Drax had documented that had some possibility. “I have your permission to hand this over to Captain Ki and Commander Thasaz?”
Drax winced at the mention of the Romulan. “Say you found it somewhere in the lower decks. Someone turned it in. I don’t want it known that I helped her.” Hargraves replied with a quiet nod. The Ferengi let out a long sigh and stood. “I need you to throw me out of your office, Commander Hargraves. Loudly.” Charlie’s eyebrows shot up, confused, and Drax rolled his eyes. “My reputation requires preservation. I’ve spent over an hour in your office. People will wonder. People will ask. People will wonder.”
Hargraves stared at the Ferengi, understanding Drax just a little more than he had before. He stood, a grin on his face. “I think it’s best if you start by calling me Commander Charlie. Loudly.”
The Ferengi grinned widely. “Oh, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.” He closed his eyes, getting into character before shouting, “You cannot be serious, Commander Charlie!”
