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 and the chance to search S'Tlak's quarters for the manuscript they had been negotiating. Mungo was too excited to observe good security and S'Tlak was too close to finishing this job. 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.

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.