“You said this was going to be easy.” Selene Voss was tired.  They’d been flying for a while and her need for space from her partner was growing.

Dain Kessler rolled his eyes from the cockpit, “The information I had at the time said it would be easy.  This is new information.”  He was perfectly relaxed.  He’d tried to help her find a similar place of peace over the years.  She just wasn’t built that way, he decided.

Selene grumbled, “Whoever spooked them, I’d like to have a word.”  Their targets were inhabitants of Montana Station, also known as Starbase 406.  Until two months ago, the station had been pretty free in the lower decks.  Suddenly, things had changed at the start of January. Whoever had brought the fury of the station’s command team had done a bang up job.

“Well, we can still do the job, Selene.  We just have to change our approach.  Plenty of ways to kill them without outright shooting them.”  He preferred quieter methods that left little evidence behind.  His reputation was significantly different from her own.  ‘The Ash Widow’ had become her moniker.  She’d earned the nickname after the way her targets seemed to disappear, as if turned to dust.  Sometimes it was literal dust.

She spat back, “You’ve got our identities reworked to fit this shiny new plan?”

“Were this twenty years ago, Hasara, I would have walked back out of here wishing you the very best of luck.  Thankfully, for you, those days are long gone.”  Commander Thasaz sat in the small room just off her own office.  It was hidden behind a concealed and secured door.  Hasara sat across from her, an archaic folding table sitting between them.

He smiled, “Twenty years ago, I might have shot you, commander.”  He tilted his head, “You would have been hard to kill.”

The Romulan security director rolled her eyes and said, “Well, we’re both old as hell, so we’ll never know.”  She quickly changed subjects, “You said you have an idea who’s coming for you?  You called this meeting, if I recall.”

“The Ash Widow and her partner, The Silver Jackal.”  He handed her one of Hagasa’s books, “They’re relatively new in the rimward.”

She turned the pages, reading, her eyebrows rising and falling in equal measures.  She returned it to him, “I don’t like having killers without consciences on my station.  I’ve heard his name – more of a talker and deal maker.  She’s not on our board.  Why hasn’t either of them made tracks for Tougun?  From what Intel can gather, he’s offering strong monetary motivation.”  Thasaz frowned, “How did you find out it’s them?”

His smile faded. “There’s been some murmuring down below about some business transactions made in Cardassian space that needed to be completed here at Montana.  Sinai started tracking it back, Hagasa asked some questions and did some fund tracing.  Took a few days, but these two were in the finalist brackets.  And no, we have no idea what they look like or what ship they’re flying.  They’re as good at this as we are, and they’ve been at it a lot less.  Estimates are they’re in their mid twenties.  As for why they haven’t signed with the Orion…they’re independent operators.  Plenty of them out there who refuse to have someone telling them what to do.”

She said, “Sounds like someone I know.” He rolled his eyes, but there was an indication of a smile. Thasaz continued, “Someday, your Ferengi will have to teach me his methods.”

“You can ask him.  I will warn you, he knows every Romulan swear word.”

She stood, her sly smile returning, “Good.  I’ve been lacking a worthwhile challenger.”