Fleet Captain’s Log, Stardate 2401.4. Having made a deal with Daimon Lurg, we now know where he delivered Penn Renos: Janea II. A regional trading hub, it was once run by the Karemma. Since the Dominion’s withdrawal from this region, the Karemma’s control over the planet has been broken. Now, it’s a haven for pirates, mercenaries and other criminal elements. It’s the perfect hiding place for someone like Renos. Starfleet has never been particularly welcome here, so I threw in something extra to secure passage with Lurg.

The thin layer of foam that Lurg laughably referred to as a mattress did little to make the bunk comfortable, though he doubted their comfort mattered much to the Ferengi Daimon. Forrester rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, staring at the bunk’s ceiling. A sigh from the occupant of the bunk above him suggested they were having no more luck sleeping than Forrester. “Everything okay up there?”

“Yes, sir.” Commander Elizabeth Wescott replied. “Just trying to get comfortable.” Forrester could hear her shifting around in the bunk above him.

The door to the ‘guest quarters’ they’d been assigned opened, allowing the light from the corridor to spill into the room. Doctor Henry Young stepped into the room with a slice of toast in his mouth and a cup in his hand.

“Is it breakfast time already?” Wescott asked.

That doesn’t seem possible, Forrester thought. We’ve only been underway a few hours.

Young seemed startled by Wescott’s question. “Sorry, I didn’t think you guys were still awake.” 

“These shelves don’t lend themselves well to sleep,” Forrester grumbled. He couldn’t bring himself to refer to the shelves and foam pads they’d been given as beds.

Young moved to the bunks on the opposite side of the room, no more than a metre away, and sat on the edge. “To answer your question, it’s only about zero-three-hundred. I’m a bit of a late-night snacker.”

He listened as Wescott repositioned herself on her shelf. “How’s the food?” She asked.

“Horrible,” Young replied, his nose scrunched in disgust. “I think their replicators are programmed more for tube grubs and gree worms than tea and toast.” He gulped down a mouthful of tea with a grimace.

Forrester closed his eyes and rolled onto his side. “We didn’t book onto a pleasure cruise. The main thing is that we get to Janea and find Renos.”

“I wish you’d stayed on the Challenger,” Wescott muttered after a few minutes where the only sound in the room was Doctor Young occasionally slurping his tea and making sounds of disgust.

Rolling onto his back, Forrester glared at the roof of his bunk. “Both you and Captain Rix made a valiant effort to persuade me not to come on this mission, but that ship has sailed…literally,” He told her shortly. Besides, the Cernan is tailing us and will hold position on the edge of the system. If anything happens, help won’t be too far away.”

Forrester rolled back onto his side, “Let’s focus on the mission at hand.”

Two days. That’s how long they’d spent on Janea trying to hunt down Renos with little success. Everywhere they went, they were met by walls of silence. Given the locals’ dislike of Starfleet, Forrester had decided the team would carry nothing that identified them as Starfleet. Only a small subdural transmitter allowed for them to communicate with the Cernan.

Forrester pulled a Bajoran PADD from one of the inside pockets of his coat and activated it as he set it on the bar and pushed it towards the barman. The burly Dosi gave the face displayed on it little more than a cursory glance before shaking his head. “I’ve never seen this man.”

“You sure?” Forrester asked, a sinking feeling of futility settling in his chest. His reply came in the form of a deep growl coming from the barman. “Thanks for your help.” 

Recovering the PADD and stuffing it back in his pocket, Forrester returned to the table in the dark corner where Young and Wescott were sitting. “Now what?” Young asked.

“Now we start considering the possibility that Renos is no longer here,” Although Wescott’s voice wasn’t much above a whisper, the force of her tone was unmistakable.

Forrester shook his head, “He’s here. I know-”

“You don’t know that, sir.” Wescott cut him off. “You have no way of knowing that.” She let out a frustrated sigh and leaned forward. “I tried telling you before we left the Challenger that he was probably long gone. If I were in his shoes, I’d only stick around long enough to arrange onward travel to some new destination where Daroxi Security or Starfleet wouldn’t find me.”

She’s right, Forrester thought sourly. He’d been a security officer for long enough that he already knew their chances of catching up with Renos were slim, but he’d been so blinded by the need to bring him to justice that his judgement had been impaired. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

Before he could reply, a young man slid into Forrester’s lap and snaked his arms over the Captain’s shoulders. Forrester looked up to find himself looking into the face of a young Rakhari man with messy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The man in his lap was no older than thirty. “Can I help you?”

The Rakhari man stared silently into Forrester’s eyes for a few seconds, his fingers running through Forrester’s chestnut hair. He slowly leaned closer and, for a split second, Forrester thought he was going to be kissed but at the last moment the young man leaned to the side and whispered into his ear. “The man you’re looking for is staying at the hotel across the street. Room Four-Thirty-Eight.”

“How do you know who we’re looking for?” Forrester asked. “And why are you telling me where he is?”

The man didn’t say anything more. He planted a gentle kiss on Forrester’s cheek before slinking off, leaving Wescott and Young staring at their Captain in shock. “What was that?” Wescott asked.

“He told me where Renos is,” Forrester replied. “Hotel across the street. Room Four-Thirty-Eight.”

Wescott eyed him warily. “He just gave you the information? For free?”

“Looks like it,” Forrester told her with a nod.

With the same worried look he had worn since arriving on Janea, Young asked, “Could this be a trap?”

“Is the sky blue?” Wescott shot back immediately with a withering look.

Forrester was quick to chip in, “Actually, the sky’s green on this planet, but I agree with Wescott. There’s no ‘could’ about this. It is a trap.”

“So what’s our next move?” Young asked, looking from Forrester to Wescott and back.

Their options were limited. Their closest support was on the edge of the system, too far to get detailed sensor scans and too far to beam them directly into the building. As a plan began formulating in Forrester’s mind, a smile began pulling at the corner of his lips. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“No,” Wescott announced out of the blue.

Forrester could see in her eyes that she knew what he was thinking, “Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Sir,” Wescott began, “you cannot seriously be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

The smile on Forrester’s lips widened. It was a high risk plan, anything they came up with would carry a certain amount of risk. But as far as he was concerned, it was a risk worth taking. “I think I’m thinking exactly what you think I’m thinking.”

“I think,” Doctor Young injected, “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.

Wescott shot the Doctor a dirty look as she sat back and let out a frustrated sigh. She glared at Forrester for a few silent seconds, the air thick with the tension between them. Finally she announced, “He wants to spring the trap.”

“If Renos wants me, he can have me,” Forrester told them with a shrug.

Wescott leaned forward, a pleading tone in her voice that Forrester hadn’t heard before. “Sir, please. We need to take time to gather intel, recon the building and come up with a proper plan.”

“Renos is in my sights. The longer we wait, the higher the chance he’ll slip away. The decision’s been made, Commander,” Forrester pushed himself to his feet. “Be ready to go in five.”

As he walked away from the table, he could hear Wescott mutter, “This can’t end well.”