"Trader of information" by Lieutenant jg T'Kang Chief Tactical Officer - USS Tempest http://come.to/tkang T'Kang dematerialized off of the transporter pad of the USS Tempest and rematerialized in the main bazaar of the Dakota II colony. It was dusk. The golden sun was beginning to set over the distant hills, bathing the bazaar in a wash of golden light. Interrupting the peaceful setting where hundreds of colonists busily scurrying around the central market place, getting things for the evening meal. T'Kang glanced around the open bazaar. Dozens of stores and shops lined the market place, with even more smaller carts and stands arranged in the open court yard in a farmer's market arrangement. The Klingon couldn't help but frown at the activity and crowds of people. They reminded him of swarming ants, the way they busily doted around. Squinting while shielding his eyes from the angular setting sunlight, the Klingon decided to see if he could find a quiet place to eat. Slowly he began walking through the crowd of people who seemed eager to give the broad shouldered Klingon plenty of room as he past. "You there. Ah yes, a Klingon warrior! I know just what it is you are after." T'Kang stopped and turned. There was a mousy Yiridian merchant standing there in a dark set of robes that looked some what tattered and worn, like he was a homeless beggar or wino, though the Klingon's sensitive nose couldn't detect any traces of alcohol on his scent. "What do you want?!" T'Kang barked in his usual rude manner. The Yiridian was a bit taken back, and looked for a moment like he may have chosen the wrong visitor to approach. But be it unrelenting courage or simply an empty stomach longing for a warm meal, the Yiridian swallowed and continued his spiel. "Me, oh why I don't want anything my friend. Only to offer my services to you. I can see you are a tourist to the colony, in which case I can offer to be your guide for a small consideration. . . ." "I do not need a guide." T'Kang replied in a stubborn, throaty tone conducive of his temperament with salesmen. "Of course you don't." the Yiridian declared in agreement swallowing again, "But I can see you are looking for something. Perhaps I can help." "I do not think so." T'Kang grunted rudely, pressing by the Yiridian and walking away. The wrinkled drifter turned and began walking with the large Klingon. "What is it you are seeking? Refreshment? A warm bed? Perhaps some female companionship? I can help you. I know the Dakota Colony very well my friend." "I am not your friend, and I don't need your help old man." T'Kang grumbled back, annoyed at the Yiridian's persistence. "Please, my name is Merlaun. I can tell we are going to become great friends T'Kang." T'Kang stopped and turned to face the Yiridian, grabbing him by his robes and picking him up to face the powerful Klingon eye to eye. "How do you know my name?!" "I. . . told you. I know a great many things my friend." The Yiridian said looking around like a guilty child might look away from a parent. "Perhaps if you where to buy me some warm food, I might be persuaded to discuss it. Say at that Bolian restaurant over there?" T'Kang's eyes narrowed. The thought crossed his mind to simple shake the information out of the Yiridian. After all he was a frail mouse of a man, while T'Kang was a stout warrior. But he was standing in the middle of a busy bazaar of a Federation outpost. He had managed to maintain a good reputation on board the Tempest thus far, and saw no need to ruin that now over this weasel of a man. Not when a bowl of hot soup might loosen his tongue. "Very well. I will feed you, and you will tell me what I want to know." "Of course my friend. Come, let's eat." the Yiridian said while straightening his robes after the Klingon placed him down. Nearly a hour later Merlaun was slurping the last of his third bowl of hot soup. T'Kang, being the stout Klingon Warrior that he was, had managed to eat a lot of food as well, but this Yiridian was a small, fragile man. To see him eat so eagerly only enforced T'Kang's initial thoughts of him being a homeless beggar. "Now tell me old man, how do you know my name?" T'Kang demanded in a short tempered tone. Taking a napkin, the Merlaun patted his tiny mouth dry before releasing a healthy belch. "Excuse me. I am not used to eating such wonderful fare as this." "Tell me old man. . . ." T'Kang growled. Merlaun smiled. "Your father told me." T'Kang's face grew very angry. "That is a lie. My father died when I was a boy!" "Well, he didn't say he was your father mind you. But seeing you, and seeing him, he must have been related in some way. The spitting image of you he is. But much, much older of course." the Yiridian explained. T'Kang's eyes grew glassy as he peered of into the distance. He recalled that the Tempest was reported to have been thrown 100 years into the future. He remembered the incident in sickbay when the senior Doctor Mutt had attacked him, while the junior Doctor Mutt tried to contain his older 'self'. He remembered the senior Doctor Mutt ranting on about T'Kang having stolen his girl, an event that had not happened to T'Kang's knowledge. If this were all true, then perhaps it was possible that T'Kang's older self from this timeline had contacted this homeless Yiridian and asked that he meet him here on the bazaar. But T'Kang was still suspicious, "I do not believe you." Merlaun shrugged his shoulders, "That is fine with me. But if I lie then how else could I know your name? Me, a poor colonist stuck here on Dakota II doing what I can to scrape up a descent meal now and again?" T'Kang's eyebrows narrowed into a scowl. "Why did my 'father' tell you to meet me here old man?" "He said he needed to warn you of the Consortium. Something about how they would not stand for anyone else breaking their monopoly on faster than warp travel." Merlaun explained waiving his frail hands around in a descriptive manner as he talked, "Something about they would come after the ship and destroy it to prevent their secret from getting out throughout the quadrant. I can't remember it all. He recorded it." "You have a recording?" T'Kang said in amazement, "Give it to me!" the Klingon demanded. "Not so fast my friend. . . ." the Yiridian pulled back, "He had said you would be willing to compensate me for my troubles." T'Kang grew angry and impatient. "I have bought you your food, now give me what I want." "And I thank you for the warm meal my friend. But I had something far more. . . . substantial in mind." Merlaun explained. Crossing his massive arms stubbornly, T'Kang leaned back in his chair, "What did you have in mind?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "I want passage off of this colony. I am a poor, humble man. . . ." the Yiridian explained with a bowed head, "I only ask that you take me with you on that starship when you leave this place." T'Kang shook his head, "But we are stuck here as you are. We are unable to obtain warp speeds just like everyone else." "Do not treat me as if I were a fool Lieutenant!" Merlaun hissed bravely (for a Yiridian), "I may be old, frail and poor, but your father would not have been as concerned as he was about the Consortium destroying your vessel if it could not obtain light speed." T'Kang grew silent. He knew that there were people on the Tempest working on a way to establish a warp field even with the surrounding interference preventing it. He also knew it was possible, since the Ferengi had managed to find a way of doing so. Therefore it was not out of the question that given time, the Tempest would obtain warp speed, and in so doing, could conceivably draw the attention of the Ferengi Consortium who would try to suppress the free distribution of that technology to the rest of the quadrant. "If my Captain were to agree to this, where is it you would want to go old man?" T'Kang finally asked after giving it some thought. "Anywhere that is away from this planet my friend. I will go wherever your vessel is traveling. I have nothing here, just the clothes on my back and the few things I keep in this satchel." Merlaun explained, "Do we have a deal T'Kang?" T'Kang gave a rough grunt and a nod of acknowledgement. "I will bring you to the Tempest, but whether we take you with us when we depart Dakota II will be a decision left to my Captain." "Excellent." the Yiridian said while bowing, "If your Captain agrees, I will hand the recording your father gave me over to you. If not, then you may return me to the colony without ever knowing everything he wished to warn you and your vessel about." Standing, T'Kang nodded. "Very well. Come on, I will have us transported up to the ship." The Yiridian opened his satchel and quickly began tossing the uneaten biscuits into his sack, along with the assorted packages of snack crackers and spices. "Come on old man!" T'Kang grumbled impatiently. "Oh, I'm coming, I'm coming." Merlaun declared stuffing the last biscuit into his mouth. "I'm ready." he mumbled, allowing crumbs to trickle down his robes. T'Kang reached across his chest and tapped his communicator. +Com+ "Lieutenant T'Kang to the Tempest." The Transporter room responded almost immediately, +Com+ "Go ahead Lieutenant." +Com+ "Two to beam up." T'Kang ordered in a deep, warrior's tone. A moment later both Lieutenant T'Kang and the wrinkled Yiridian beggar, Merlaun, dematerialized and were beamed up to the starship Tempest.