The ship may have been old and past its prime; but it still had teeth, enough to deal with the situation it had been tasked with.  The Bridge of the B’rel-class Bird of Prey was in almost total darkness, the faces of it crew only highlighted by the display panels of their controls and a handful of dim lights were bulkhead and ceiling converged.

Captain Huktan leaned forward, his eyes focused on the view screen currently displaying what lay ahead of the cloaked Klingon vessel.  Ahead of them a Ferengi D’Kora class, with the name The Perpetual Profit: it to showed signs of its age.  Its sensor systems were in no way capable enough to detect the Klingon vessel behind it, and the wake from its poorly maintained engines only helped enhance the B’rel’s ability to remain undetected by any other ship or monitoring system they might encounter.

At first Huktan and his crew, couldn’t be certain where the Ferengi vessel was heading.  Details of a clandestine meeting between various criminal elements that had been operating across the boarders had found their way into his hands.  There would be certain individuals attending, that he wished to meet, face to face.

On all accounts he should have informed his superiors, who would have no doubt sent General Mortor and a large portion of the houses fleet to lead a full scale attack on these ‘Ha’DIbaH’.  Instead, he was taking his Bird of Prey alone; the glory and honour would be his and his alone.

The D’Kora dropped out of warp and the B’rel quickly followed suit.  Eleven days Huktan had followed that Ferengi, as it had weaved around from one planet to the next, on a seemingly random and erratic course, designed to reveal any pursuers.   That plan had completely failed.

**********

DaiMon Toom; younger brother of DaiMon Talr and now owner of all his brothers’ assets, including this vessel since the formers capture and imprisonment by the Federation on charges of ‘Theft of goods from a pre-warp civilisation’ and ‘Interfering with the natural development of a pre-warp society’ by assuming the role of a God.  In a way Toom was sad to see his brother locked away. Then again one should never allow family matters to get in the way of a profit; and if what he’d been told in advance about this secret meeting he was heading towards was the truth; then he stood to gain handsomely.

He knew he hadn’t followed the instruction regarding what route to take’ to the letter, or followed every security measure requested.  It was in his view, not cost effective and an unnecessary burden on fuel.  Still, with what he had done. Toom was positive that no ship had followed him here.

The Perpetual Profit dropped out of warp with the kind of hideous whine that told him and the crew, all they needed to know about the shocking state of this vessel.  His brother had neglected to give the ship a major overhaul and Toom had merely continued that trend.

This time the deceleration from warp 5.6 to impulse had been a little more jarring than previously noted; a failure in the inertial dampeners wasn’t something any captain of a ship or its crew wanted to face.  Toom would have to add this potential fault to the ever growing list of things that in all commonsense should already have been dealt with.

They had arrived at the outer edge of the system the humans referred to as JW2027-61 and its immense star they call Harbinger.  There were not many stars bigger than this monstrosity, or apparently more deadly.  The volume of radiation in all its forms, being kicked out by that star, was basically off the chart.  The shields on most ships couldn’t cope with the bombardment and the survival of its crew could be measured in minutes, not hours.

Ferengi’s were good at spotting a profit, but only the human race could ever contemplate setting up a mining operation in a place, this deadly; and that’s exactly what they’d done, for a time at least.

The only way to get near the moon on which the now closed underground mine was situated, was to follow in the shadow of a ‘Shield Ship’.  Like a giant umbrella, its curved edge for ever facing the star, the Shield Ships, of which there were two, had been designed and built to protect and incoming or outgoing vessels from radiation and thus keep its crew alive; so long as they remained within the safety of the umbrella.

**********

Navaar Orci sat in an elegant black leather chair at the head of a long black marble conference table; down each side, six slightly less impressive but never the less still rather stylish chairs; each awaiting the arrival of one of her guests.  Whether they all arrived, she couldn’t be sure, but some were here and waiting in the private quarts allocated to them.

Navaar had acquired the former Dysprosium mine, several years after it had been closed down and abandoned.  Many of the tunnels remained sealed off and could only be accessed using Eva suits, after the air supply systems to them had been shut down and disassembled for transport to other mining facilities.

Very little had been left behind; the majority of what could be seen, other than the buildings main superstructure had been brought in by her people.  This was Navaar’s little hide out now, her base of operations as it were.

The double doors at the far end of the room opened with a swiftness that gave little indication of the size and weight of reinforced steel they were made of.  In walked one of her subordinates, who bowed low, apologising for the intrusion.  “Mistress, the Ferengi’s have just arrived at the buoy.”

“Have they sent the correct clearance code?” Navaar asked the scrawny pathetic looking man.

“Yes Mistress.” He’s voice was as wretched as his looks; but he served a purpose, even if it was a limited one.

“Then what are you hovering about for?” The Orion shouted back, annoyed at the man’s very existence and the fact she had to put up with people like this.  “Get a shield ship in position, a warn them to stick close.”

“As you wish, Mistress.”  The man backed away head bowed once more as he did so.

As the door clanged shut once more, Navaar let out a low grown. “Infuriating, sniveling little creature!”

“You hired him.” The voice came from the only other person in the room, a broad shouldered Orion male, holding as he did on numerous occasions;  a Type 3 Phaser Rifle.   Korda was in the rare position of being able to talk to the Orion Leader on an equal level.  As both right hand man and body guard, he’d seem more of what went on in this organisation than most.

“Don’t remind me.” There was a hint of anger in her voice, but it was not aimed at her fellow Orion.  “Good staff can be so hard to find.”

Korda coughed, placing the butt end of the rifle against the backrest of the second chair on the right.  “Do you really believe all these separate organisations are going to give up their independence and work for you?”

“Not technically for, but with.” Navaar replied looking up. “The Syndicate has abandoned them and the Federation has ripped them apart.  To continue on alone would signal their demise.”

“The Syndicate could see it as ploy by you to muscle in on their territory.”  Korda mused. “After all, it’s why they had your mother murdered.”

“I will have my revenge on those responsible, even if I need to rip out the heart of the Syndicate in order to get to them.”

There was a lot of hate in this young woman’s heart.  Hate for the Syndicate that had sent someone to kill her mother.  Navaar only recently learned of her mother’s death; what made it worse was that she couldn’t even attend the funeral; for fear that someone could be waiting for her to.  Navaar had some suspicions and would now be working towards finding the answers.  It was another reason for this meeting; she needed allies.

Then there was Federation and its Starfleet officers who had tried to turn her into an agent and spy to do their bidding; foolishly thinking it would be easy to control one so young.  She’d managed to manipulate one of those officer’s; during her early days as a dancer, using the skills her mother had taught her.  Men could so easily be seduced by a pretty young Orion girl. She’d charmed him to work for her and her mother; betraying his own people, right up until his death.  Another had tried to hunt her down; having realised how dangerous she was, but had fallen into a trap, costing the lives of several of his ship’s crew, and resulting in his imprisonment.  The fate of the last man in the little clandestine group; remained unknown to her.

Revenge was a long and perilous road, Navaar knew that, but it was a road she was more than happy to go down.