S'Krellen

S'Tlak rubbed his chin and smiled. Larana had rubbed his chin as she kissed him last night. It was a small and uncounsicous gesture, probably, but it always made him smile. Both of them knew that each morning could be their last.

Walking, rubbing his chin, S'Tlak was on his third appearence change in this trail. He and Larana had identified an Orion, nicknamed Mungo, as a gopher for the Syndicate. Like many men who try to rise to power Mungo fancied himself a connesieur of good things. His thing of preference, oddly enough, was ancient Vulcan literature. He had been more than happy to find a disgraced Vulcan librarian who had contacts with the black marketeers in such antiquities.

S'Tlak smiled as Mungo nervously looked around and then walked into the Prancing Pony. Watching from across the alley, S'Tlak looked around to make sure that he was observed; just one more timid tourist trying to talk himself into tasting the forbidden delicacies the Pony offered. He guessed, unlike real tourists, that the door frame was a high resolution scanner that could detect any sort of weapon, explosive, or biological chemical that might do harm. Well, almost any weapon. It wouldn't trigger on the data chips in Mungo's pocket, the ones S'Tlak had let Mungo think were stolen. Simply because they were data chips. Who cared if they used different crystals or had a small powersource for longevity? Really, they weren't a weapon until inserted into the PADD S'Tlak himself carried. Even the PADD didn't seem to be a weapon. It was an upgraded version with a larger power supply, of course. Even these scanners couldn't tell that the screen was pre cut to break into a palm knife with a molecule sharp blade. Nor that the base plate could take Mungo's datachips and become a short range phaser.

Mungo hadn't wasted any time running to his masters when he thought he discovered one of the slave Orions sharing her charms with S'Tlak. You could almost see the mental gears stripping themselves as he thought of the reward he'd get from the boss for uncovering a spy and the chance to search S'Tlak's quarters for the manuscript they had been negotiating about. Mungo was too excited to watch his trail clearly and S'Tlak was too close to finishing this job to let him get away. He had his own dreams of reward, of course. But not from the Syndicate. And no reward if one doesn't live to collect it. The Marines would be starting their show in 72 minutes and he had to be across the city to help with that. At the Pony, however, was one lose end Larana shouldn't have to worry about.

S'Tlak made himself nervously shuffle and then clutch his PADD close to his thinned frame. Larana had made fun of his looks; she could almost lift him herself. His ribs had stuck out of his chest and his face had been made gaunt to reflect how a broke and underfed Vulcan might look. Widening his eyes and looking nervously around, he approached the Pony's front door.

"We're you going, Vulcan?" the big bouncer on the left said. "We don't usually serve your kind here."

"I have credits." S'Tlak said nervously, holding up a good handful of large numbers. "Mungo said this was the place for a man to...ummm..I have credits."

"Mungo, eh? That fat pig?" The other guard snorted. "Even he can't normally afford to be here." Grabbing a few credits, he added. "Well, I guess you can take a look. Not sure you'll know what to do, but hey, that's your call."

Blushing on cue, S'Tlak moved inside. The scanners picked up a Vulcan male, just like he looked. The scanners weren't yet good enough to detect the embedded device in S'Tlak's body, the one that made him look like a Vulcan male in decent health. He could be lying on the floor missing both arms and one leg and still register as in good health. Of course, he wasn't really a Vulcan, either. So much for technology.

Looking for Mungo, S'Tlak found his prey waiting at the bar. The thick crowd was going to work to S'Tlak's advantage, within a few minutes he had brushed by Mungo and retrieved the data chips. Within his coat pocket the PADD was broken down and put back together as his more powerful tools. The pen beat the sword but there are times a phaser beats a PADD.

A few minutes more and they came to get Mungo. Mungo had commed in while running from their hourly quarters. He had said it was a matter of life and death for the boss and for this once he didn't have to wait long. Of course, he knew if the boss didn't think it was worth the rush, well, Mungo would pay the price. One of the guards led the way and the other fell in behind Mungo. S'Tlak quickly moved through th ecrowd in a parallel fashion, acting drunk and slipping a credit in here or there to keep things moving along. When the front guard unlocked the door S'Tlak made his move.

Springing forward he buried the knife in the rear guards kidneys and twisted up and arond while pushing them all forcefully through the door. The now dead guard flopped forward and entangled Mungo who tried to turn while stumbling forward. "Hey, What the..." was all the front guard could get out before S'Tlak had lept forward and pulled the guard back by the hair before running the knife through his throat.

"What...what are you doing?" Mungo quietly whined, trying to get up while entangled in two grosly bleeding bodies.

"I need to talk to your boss." S'Tlak hissed. "Shut up and live."

Lifting the fallen guard's still warm and mildly living body S'Tlak pressed the dying man's hand to the security lock. As the door opened the guard fell and S'Tlak walked in.

"Well, I didn't expect you to be..." the well dressed gentleman behind the desk said, before slumping as the phaser beam caught him in the chest.

"I thought you were going to talk to the boss!" Mungo said, sputtering.

S'Tlak raised an eyebrow. "I thought I made my point quite well, no sense dragging the conversation along."