Able-bodied crewman Darjeth stepped from the airlock and walked down the gangway to the deck of Starbase 565. In his left hand he carried a large duffel bag, a batleth was slung across his back. His long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and bobbed so that it hung just below his collar. As he made his way down the gangway towards the hub of the station he became aware of many pairs of eyes shooting darting glances at him. At 1.9 meters he was tall for a Klingon and made for a fearsome sight. He approached an information desk and inquired about renting quarters. Once that was accomplished he made his way to his room. As he walked he thought about his experience aboard the �merchant� ship, privateer more like. He was not sorry to be done with that crew, however lucrative it had been. Reaching his quarters he entered the security code. As the doors slid open he tossed his gear through them and allowed the doors to shut again. Turning back toward the corridor he checked his timepiece and hurriedly made his way to the lounge.
The Ferengi was a fat oaf not given to waiting. His contact was late, and as the seconds passed his resolve ebbed with them. �He�s dead of course� he thought to himself, �or worse- captured, found out. He�ll give me up for sure. I�ve got to get out of here, they�re on to me.� He began to get up from the booth in the corner of the lounge. Just them a strong hand grasped him on the shoulder and propelled him back into the chair. He gave a quiet shriek at the surprise and as the Klingon slid into the seat across from him he looked as though he�d faint.
�Going somewhere Quage?� The Klingon shot him a venomous glare. �Have I ever missed a meet?� He smiled. �Relax, if I was going to kill you, you�d already be dead.�
Quage, his composure returning, got right to the point. �Do you have it?�
Darjeth looked at him as if it was the stupidest question he�d ever heard. �Do you?�
Quage�s eyes darted to the seat beside the Klingon. Darjeth deftly slid his hand between the cushion back and seat. Feeling the isolinear chip he palmed it and deftly slid his hand into his pocket, depositing it there. He rose from the bench and turned to leave.
Quage suddenly realized he wasn�t getting paid. He grabbed the Klingon�s wrist as he walked away. The table quickly turned as Darjeth rolled his hand over the Ferengi�s wrist and broke the hold. �Idiot!� Darjeth seethed as he took another step, �we�re finished here. Your latinum is on the seat. You�ve compromised me. Next time I see you�� He slipped into the crowd and made his way out of the Lounge.
Darjeth stepped onto the first turbolift he saw. �Decks two, five and six.� The car shot off and he breathed a sigh of relief. As the car got to deck five he stepped off and walked down the corridor. He made a beeline to another turbolift and boarded it. �Decks eight, four and one.� Again the car took off. Stepping off the car at deck eight he scanned the corridor. Nothing seemed out of order. He moved quickly to a nearby Lavatory and entered a stall. Moving quickly pulled the isolinear chip out of his pocket and placed it under his tongue. Reaching for his scalp he pulled off the prosthetic forehead ridge plates he�d been wearing. Once completed, he quickly stripped off his outer clothes, revealing a second set below. He stuffed the prosthetic into the outer clothes, balled them up and stuffed them into his shirt, creating a passable potbelly. He emerged from the stall a different man. Leaving the stall and adopting a new gait, he made his way to a third turbolift that he took to his actual quarters. Darjeth had vanished.
Soghla� K�onor sat at his desk looking over the isolinear chip. Plugging it into his PADD, he reviewed the information it held. Satisfied, he placed the chip in his personal safe and changed into his uniform. �Time to report in I guess.� Checking his appearance in the mirror he made a few last adjustments and went off to find the Starbase Commander. The D�bloq was waiting for him to take command.