Niran Syral could feel the cold of the draughty old warehouse seeping deep into his bones. The abandoned warehouses on the edges of Pergamon V’s industrial zone provided little protection from the planet’s long, harsh winter.  He pulled his long, thick coat tighter as he waited.

“He’s late,” Vellora complained.

Oreth had assigned Vellora as Niran’s second-in-command on Pergamon V, but in truth, she was there to be Oreth’s eyes and ears. He’d lost all trust after Niran’s failures on Freecloud and Farius. Niran was certain Vellora was reporting everything Niran said and did back to Oreth. He’d learned to be very guarded around her.

The tips of Niran’s ears were beginning to numb. “He’s always late,” He pointed out.

“Miserable little troll,” Vellora rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to create warmth. “I should snap his neck for making us wait.”

The idea brought a smile to Niran’s lips. He’d had the same thought himself, more than once. “But then, who would we buy our weapons from?”

“I’m sure one of his associates would be willing to step in and do business with us,” Vellora explained. “And they’d know better than to keep us waiting.”

Niran touched Vellora’s shoulder, saying, “Someday, you may get your wish.” The telltale hum of a transporter began to echo through the warehouse. “But not today.”

The now familiar figure of Gintak materialised before them, flanked on either side by his much larger Nausicaan bodyguards. His heavy coat looked like it was made of the finest Vitarian Wool, a high collar lined with fur and deep pockets, into which Gintak shoved his hands.

“Let’s get this over with,” Gintak grumbled.

A second set of transporter materialisations began. This time, four crates appeared on the floor between them. Niran stepped forward and opened the crate closest to him.

“It’s all there,” Gintak announced. “Two crates of Breen disruptor rifles, one crate of Cardassian phase-disruptor pistols and a crate of the rifle variant.”

Niran studied a few of the rifles closely. “What of the other matter we discussed? My employer is not a patient man.”

“As I said when we spoke a few days ago,” Gintak began. “Obtaining trilithium, especially the quantities you want, is incredibly difficult. None of my associates were able to help. But I have heard rumours of a pair of hewmons, recently arrived on this world, who might be able to supply what you need.”

Oreth’s plans to acquire trilithium terrified Niran, and he’d hoped Gintak would tell them that acquiring the volatile compound would be impossible. He didn’t know exactly what Oreth planned to do with the trilithium, but based on the amount he wanted, he could devastate several star systems. 

Niran kept his features impassive, not wanting to let Vellora suspect him of harbouring doubts about their task. “Rumours are not good enough, Gintak.”

“I’ll know more in a few days,” Gintak told him confidently.

Niran turned to Vellora. “Pay him.”

“Your talents are wasted here, my dear,” Gintak told Vellora as he followed her movements. “You should come work for me instead.”

Vellora sneered at Gintak as she handed a case containing the latinum over to one of the bodyguards.

“My organisation could use a woman’s…touch.” Gintak touched his lobes in a way Niran assumed was meant to be seductive and placed his free hand on Vellora’s forearm.

Vellora used her free hand to grab the hand that Gintak was resting on her arm and twisted it, drawing a loud scream from the Ferengi and causing him to drop to his knees. His bodyguards quickly drew their sidearms and pointed them at Vellora, but held their fire. Niran, meanwhile, watched the events unfold with a smirk.

“Do not ever touch me again,” Vellora hissed. “I would rather mate with a Gorn than touch a detestable creature like you.”

Niran stepped forward. “Let him go.” With a final disgusted grunt, Vellora released the Ferengi arms merchant’s arm. “Our business is concluded.” Niran placed a hand over his heart and bowed in mock respect. “Until next time.”

“There will be no next time,” Gintak raged. “I will not be treated this way by a fee-male.” He turned to his bodyguards. “Kill them.”

Before either of the Nausicaans could react, they crumpled to the floor. In a panicked manner that reminded Niran of a small mammal that lived in the forests of Romulus, Gintak looked around the room wildly for any sign of what had just killed his bodyguards.

“Good customers are as rare as latinum. Treasure them,” Niran said, quoting the fifty-seventh Rule of Acquisition. “Is this how to treasure a customer as good as Oreth?”

Gintak dropped to his knees and began clawing at Niran’s coat. “But…but…my sensors showed no other life signs.”

“You saw what we wanted you to see,” Vellora sneered.

Niran pushed the Ferengi away, causing him to fall on his back. “You have two options. You can leave peacefully with your life, and the latinum, and we can continue our partnership.”

“Or?”

“Or, I allow Vellora to kill you, we keep the latinum and the weapons and find someone else to do business with,” Niran told him. “We’ve known each other a long time, Gintak, and our business dealings have been fruitful for both of us. I’d hate to see that come to an end in such a messy way.”

Gintak stared up at him, and Niran could see the calculations running through the Ferengi’s head. He finally announced, “Fine.”

“A wise choice.” Niran stepped forward and held out a hand to help Gintak to his feet.

Vellora watched them with her lip curled into a sneer. “We’ll be in touch about the trilithium.”

The colour drained from Gintak’s face. Niran forced a smile. “Until next time.”

Gintak brushed his clothes down, grabbed the case containing his latinum and quickly ordered his ship to beam him up.

Once the Ferengi businessman was gone, Niran turned to his companion. “Was that necessary?”

“He makes my skin crawl,” she replied.

Niran let out a long sigh. “What’s done is done. Vaporise the bodies and prepare the weapons for transport.”

It was days like these that made Niran long for home. Though he’d been born and raised on Romulus, it hadn’t been home since he joined the Imperial Navy. No, home was now in the arms of his husband. The longer he spent on Pergamon V, doing Oreth’s bidding, the more he wished he could leave this life behind and start fresh.

One day.

The incessant beeping of the communications terminal interrupted a wonderful dream featuring Niran, his husband and a Risian man they’d met during their last trip to Risa. Reluctantly, he pulled the covers back and hauled himself out of bed with a heavy sigh. The cold air struck his skin, sending a shiver down the length of his back.

The light from the terminal was too bright, causing him to squint when it activated. It was a few seconds before his eyes adjusted enough that he could see the screen. He was met by the handsome, smiling face of his husband, Ian.

“Hey, baby.”

The sight of his husband, his voice as warm as a summer’s day on Romulus, was a welcome sight after a long day. But there was also a dull ache in the centre of his chest.

“I’m sorry for calling so late, but I didn’t want to let your birthday pass unmarked.”

Niran hadn’t felt much like celebrating. Today was a day much like any other. He danced to Oreth’s tune while under the watchful gaze of Vellora.

“I’d almost forgotten about it,” Niren replied with a wide smile.

Ian leaned towards the screen. “I wish I were there to celebrate with you. Better yet, I wish we were both back on Risa.”

“As do I,” Niran replied with a wistful sigh. “I would give anything for us to be together right now.”

“We just have to wait until your work there is complete, and then we can be together. Right?” Ian asked. 

Niran could hear the hint of frustration creeping into his voice, and he fully understood it. They’d been married for almost five years, but had spent less than a year together in all that time. Looking back, Niran couldn’t understand why. He had plenty of opportunities to walk away and live a quiet life with Ian somewhere Oreth would never find them. So why hadn’t he? None of his answers were convincing right now. 

“I should be done here soon,” Niran replied vaguely. “And then you and I can finally start our life together.”

How many times had he said that already? From the look on his face, Ian was thinking the same thing. He looked down at his hands. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait, Niran.”

“You won’t have to wait much longer,” Niran told him firmly and with a feeling of determination that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “You have my word. ”

Escaping Oreth’s grasp would not be easy. They’d spend the rest of their life looking over their shoulders. But Niran was no longer willing to do the bidding of the man Tarnek Oreth had become. In that moment, he decided the time had come. He would need to make meticulous plans if he had any chance of success.

Oreth had once been an honourable officer of the Imperial Romulan Navy, a man Niran looked up to. He’d been both a mentor and a friend. But that had changed with the destruction of Romulus. Losing his family had hit Oreth hard. Niran had lost his own family: parents and sisters.

But unlike Niran, Oreth’s grief turned to anger, and he didn’t seem to care who it was aimed at. The once honourable man had become bitter and cruel. He now ruled through fear instead of leading by example. Oreth thought nothing of punishing his people using the most brutal methods at his disposal. That, more than anything else, is what forced Niran to send his family into hiding and fake their deaths seven years ago.

Recently, Oreth had found a focus for his anger: a Starfleet Captain named Thomas Forrester. Forrester had thwarted Oreth at Darox III in the Gamma Quadrant. Then again, at Vinex during the collapse of what remained of the Romulan Star Empire. These defeats only intensified Oreth’s hatred of the Human.  He ended up luring Forrester into a trap and kidnapping him. Even almost a year later, Forrester remained Oreth’s prisoner.

Niran could see the scepticism written across Ian’s features, and he didn’t blame him. He’d made his husband wait long enough, too long. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, and it was difficult to make out what he was saying. Niran reached for the control panel to try to correct the error, but there was little he could do. The colours on the screen inverted momentarily before the screen went blank.

Niran spent the next fifteen minutes trying to reestablish the connection to his husband, but it was useless. He couldn’t establish a connection, no matter what he tried. When a news alert appeared on his terminal, he discovered why. According to the readings from the terminal, some sort of subspace disruption was preventing communications with many other worlds.

He had no idea just how widespread the disruption was, or that what would follow would make Oreth’s attempts to obtain trilithium pale into insignificance.