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Unnatural Selection, Part 3
The light of the planet's only moon filtered down through a tiny crack in the cell's ceiling. It was no difficulty for Wartnose to keep his new servants under wraps, as he had confiscated their weapons and their commlinks; security tended to be a bit lax.
After all, it was a waste of time to assign anyone to guard the perilously-clad Shanin Betandi.
"Rise and shine, handsome!" Latinum-Strip smiled at Seleyn toothily, sending the other Trollengi women into heated debate.
"Aw, he's too tall! Just look at 'im!"
"That's what I'm doing, Earlint! Are you blind?"
Seleyn hid his head in his hands, partly to hide a sudden spurt of laughter and partly to soothe the ache there. It was going on 0300, Scylla's time, and the sudden, bright light - provided by a particularly warty suitor who was under the delusion that these "elves" liked perpetual light - wasn't helping matters any.
/Now what, daughter?/
/I've been thinking. Are you familiar with the Wolfrider chief Bearclaw?/
/He was the one who found the trolls, i'etei?/
/And turned their greed to the elves' needs. I think I can do the same with Wartnose./
The spotlight dipped a bit, providing momentary relief. "Uh oh...Latinum-Strip, he looks sick!" A flock of nervously cooing trolls, Ferengi, and hybrids descended upon him.
Shanin took the opportunity to slip away and sneak up on Wartnose.
"I've got a deal for you."
"Eh? What do you have that we can't just take, slave?"
"A ship."
"A ship? We're quite happy right here, elf, and that's the way it's going to stay!"
"Ahh..." Shanin's expression grew predatory. "But it wasn't easy getting here, was it? That ship in orbit may be small, but it's not underpowered by any means. Black-market Athmari weapons, the highest grade I could get, and a good propulsion system on top of it. I don't need comms to contact my crew, and it would only take a word for them to either bomb this place into the next century, or else take off and let the nearest Starfleet vessel know you're here."
"Lies! You can't send across that distance."
"Sending is limited, yes...but are you familiar with Athmari telepathy?" From the look on Wartnose's face, she guessed the answer was no. However, an overly wrinkled, well-aged Ferengi took the Nagus's arm and pulled him aside. Several whispered exchanges later, Wartnose was pale.
"As you say, woman. What do you ask in return for your freedom?"
"Why, nothing but a good, profitable deal. One that will benefit both of us. Your little colony here took a dificult cross of two things that never would have flourished together elsewhere; all I want is a share of something similar. Let me have exclusive trade rights for your dreamberry flowers, and I'll bring you back better food, medical supplies...all at a cost well below my race's standard asking price. As a good faith offering, I'll expect our belongings returned - but that's a very small initial investment for you."
Wartnose stroked his scraggly beard. "I'll have to think about it."
Shanin bowed Athmari-style - a mere nod of the head, keeping her eyes on him the whole time, which could be considered mocking if not delivered so convincingly - and quickly retreated.
At the same time, Lintear ran into the chamber wailing about how the handsome man elf had nearly broken her dainty finger off.
Seleyn followed close behind. Doing his best to look just dangerous enough not to touch, but not so dangerous as to inspire true fear, he smiled cruelly at the Trollengi.
***
/Dal, home. Now./ The curt message begged for an explanation, but Shanin's second-shift helmsman didn't ask questions.
Seleyn crept up behind him and deposited a wreath of Ikari leaves on his head. Dal looked up from his station in confusion.
"Som'thn wrong, fly-boy?"
"Uhm...no, sir. Not unless there is with you..." The normally headstrong Dal had learned decades ago not to mess with the old man.
"N'aahhhhh. Noth'n wrong h'r."
"If you don't mind my inquiring, sir..." He caught a glimpse of the moisture-rich, purply-blue, half-eaten Ikari in Seleyn's mud-streaked hand. "What happened down there?"
"Nah, best not t' ask. But if y' play y'r cards righ', boy - once y' get off duty, th't 's - y' could get in on t' deal of th' decade..."
Seleyn stumbled back to his guest quarters, the uncharacteristic smile on his face getting larger...