"More than meets the eye"
 by Lieutenant jg T'Kang
 Chief Tactical Officer - USS Tempest


T'Kang had returned from his extended chat with Chief of 
Security McQueen about the altercation he'd witnessed in 
the corridor.  His first order of business was to check up on 
the Yiridian trader he'd convinced the Captain to allow on 
board in exchange for the recording the mousy old man 
claimed to have gotten from T'Kang's 'father'.   Now that the 
Tempest had left the Dakota II colony, there was nothing 
preventing the hungry vagrant from giving the recording to 
the Klingon.

The doors to the turbolift swished open and T'Kang came 
stomping out.  His massive arms swung in almost perfect 
unison with his tree stump legs as he caused the corridor to 
vibrate while he walked.   Stopping in front of the guest 
quarters McQueen's security officers had assigned Merlund, 
T'Kang impatiently pressed the door chime and waited.

And waited.

Pressing the chime again with an impatient frown, the 
Klingon hammered a fist against the alloy door, causing it to 
resonate under his pounding.  "Merlund.  Open the door.  
You have something for me now that we are under way."

T'Kang waited some more.

"Computer, override lock to these quarters.  Authorization 
T'Kang beta sigma one."  the Klingon commanded.

The computer gave out an acknowledgement tone before 
the latch released and the door slid open.  T'Kang walked 
inside.   Glancing around the Yiridian was no where to be 
seen.  "That is odd."  T'Kang stated.  "Computer, are these 
the correct quarters for a Yiridian named Merlund?"

The computer responded, "These quarters are reserved for a 
Yiridian named Merlund."

"Where is he now?"  T'Kang asked angrily.

"Insufficient data available to formulate a reply."  the 
computer responded.

T'Kang frowned.  "I forgot to give him a communicator so he 
could be tracked."  the Klingon mumbled.   "How many 
Yiridians are presently on board the Tempest?"

With a acknowledgement tone, the computer responded, 
"Fourteen."

"And of those fourteen, how many are presently without a 
comm badge?"  T'Kang asked.

"Presently one."  the Computer responded in monotone.

"State location."  T'Kang ordered with a satisfied look on his 
face.

"Yiridian now entering Ten Forward."  the Computer 
responded.

T'Kang gave a quick look around, then turned to leave 
Merlund's quarters.  It was inconceivable that the old man 
could possibly desire more to eat the way he was carrying 
on, but T'Kang wasn't questioning that now.  All he wanted 
was to get his hands on the recording the Yiridian had from 
what he believed to be his older self.

It would have to wait momentarily, as T'Kang wanted to 
make a quick check of the bridge before visiting Ten 
Forward to collect the recording.   Now that the Tempest was 
underway, it was possible though unlikely, that the Ferengi 
or other faction might attempt to attack the ship.   The Chief 
Tactical officer just wanted to run a full sensor sweep of the 
area to insure everything was clear before confronting 
Merlund and learning what was on the recording.

T'Kang was only on the bridge for a short time before the 
bridge and several decks of the Tempest began filling up 
with deadly carbon dioxide gas.  The backup ventilation 
system quickly snapped on-line and vented the deadly 
fumes.  It was eventually learned that the gas was a result of 
the chemical breakdown of several bio-neural gel packs 
throughout the vessel.  A mystery in itself.

T'Kang finished the full sweep of the immediate area and 
there were no ships in the vicinity that were detectable or an 
immediate threat to the ship.   Glancing over to Lieutenant 
Sharpe, the Klingon informed, "I have to see the Yiridian 
about this recorded message he claims to have.  I leave 
Tactical in your charge."

Sharpe gave T'Kang a nod.  "No problem Lieutenant."

T'Kang then marched off of the bridge to locate Merlund.

The trip to Ten Forward was a short one.  T'Kang was some 
what impatient to learn what was on the Yiridian's recording 
and what it warned of the dangers that lay ahead for the 
Tempest.    The Klingon walked into the lounge and glanced 
around, sighting a few more comments from the joking 
crewmembers that shared Lieutenant O'Malley's sense of 
humor when it came to picking on the large Klingon officer.   
T'Kang's forehead ridges wrinkled even more as he realized 
the Yiridian was no where to be found.  "Ha'DIbah chagh'pu." 
T'Kang swore.

"Something wrong Lieutenant?"  a crewman asked as he 
was preparing to leave the lounge.

T'Kang faced him, a Science officer judging from his uniform.  
"I am looking for a short old Yiridian that eats a lot.  Have 
you seen him?"

"Oh yes."  the scientist replied, "He's been in and out of here 
several times in the last hour or so.   He pops in, gets a 
bunch of food that he piles into his sack, and then leaves, 
only to return a short time later.   He'll probably be along in 
the next few minutes."  the crewman smiled.  "Excuse me 
sir."

T'Kang curled his lip slightly to acknowledge the crewman's 
help.  Not satisfied with waiting, T'Kang turned and exited 
the lounge, walking the corridors in search of the missing 
Merlund.

Two decks below, T'Kang finally caught up with the mousy 
old timer.  He seemed to be walking along rather quickly, as 
if in a hurry to go where ever he was headed for.  T'Kang's 
wide stride quickly overtook the frail old man.

"Where have you been?!"  the Klingon growled spinning the 
Yiridian around to face him.

Nervously Merlund glanced up at the powerful warrior with 
wide, scared eyes as he stammered, "Why I, I, I, I was just 
taking a walk on this fine vessel.  Stretching my legs a bit."

T'Kang's eyes narrowed, not believing the Yiridian.  "As you 
can see we have left Dakota II old man.  I believe you have 
something for me?"  the Klingon opened a large hand and 
thrust it in front of the Yiridian, waiting for the isolinear chip 
with the recording he'd promised to deliver in exchange for 
passage off of the colony.

Much to T'Kang's surprise, the Yiridian was quick to 
surrender the recording.  "But of course.  You'll want to view 
this alone no doubt.  I'll let you have some privacy. . . ."  The 
Yiridian turned to walk away in a suspicious manner.  T'Kang 
instinctively got the impression he wanted to get away from 
him right that instant.  He didn't know what had made him 
reach out and snag Merlund by his jacket collar and pull him 
back.

"Not so fast. . . .  You seem to be in quite a hurry to leave old 
man.  Why is that?!"

Merlund wouldn't look up into T'Kang's eyes, instead 
glancing away, at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but at the 
Klingon's face which only made him look more guilty of 
whatever he was up to.  "Hurry?"  Merlund feigned a laugh, 
"Why, I am merely hungry once again.  I will meet you in 
your ship's food department. . . ."

The Yiridian went to pull away, but he was no match for 
T'Kang's strong grip.

"Please I must go and get some food now.. you have the 
recording. . . ."  Merlund declared.

T'Kang was about to respond when a loud popping sound 
was heard just a few feet down the end corridor.   The 
Klingon turned to see billows of white, cloud-like smoke 
begin to pour out of the near by ventilation shaft.  He didn't 
have to use his warrior's senses to recognize the fumes of 
another blown bio-neural gel pack, just like the ones that 
contaminated the bridge earlier.

"What is that?!" the Yiridian asked doing a bad job of faking 
his surprise.  "Is it supposed to do that?  We aren't in any 
danger are we?"  his questions seemed to pour out of his 
mouth more quickly now as the gas approached.

T'Kang tapped his communicator badge.  +taps+ "T'Kang to 
bridge.  There is another ruptured gel pack on deck twelve.  
Activate back up life support systems on this deck."

+taps+ "Understood T'Kang.  I'll have someone come down 
to check it out."  EM replied from the bridge.

T'Kang closed the channel and then glanced over at the 
guilty looking Yiridian.  The old man smiled, trying to look 
innocent, but his sharp pointed teeth seemed to give his 
illusion away.  "What did you do?!"  the Klingon growled.

Merlund's eyes widened.  "Nothing!  I am an old man.  I Only 
wish passage. . . ."

T'Kang reached for the Yiridian's satchel, but as he did the 
mousy old man twisted away.  "What are you doing?!  That's 
mine!"

"I will see that!"  T'Kang yelled back, taking the sack from the 
Yiridian.   Looking inside he saw several crumbs of food, two 
electronic devices the size of hand tools and a sealed 
square container a little larger than a base ball.    "What are 
these things?!"  T'Kang demanded to know.

"Why they are nothing.  Harmless little bobbles I have 
acquired in my time at the Colony.  I thought they might fetch 
a good price on the open market wherever I end up."  the 
Yiridian explained nervously.

T'Kang wasn't convinced.  "They do not look harmless to me 
old man. . . ."

"I assure you they are.  If they were harmful, your transporter 
would have registered them as weapons."  Merlund smiled 
with his razor sharp teeth again.

T'Kang's eyes narrowed quickly, "How would you know 
about our transporter scanners old man?"

Looking away at his goof, the Yiridian went into his poor 
beggar routine again.   T'Kang wasn't buying it.

"ENOUGH!" the Klingon growled picking the Yiridian up off 
of his feet and slamming him up against the corridor wall, 
pinning him there with his forearm and hand full of torn 
jacket.   "Now you will tell me exactly what you are doing 
here and why or I will make you wish that you had!"

The added pressure of T'Kang's body weight leaning into the 
Yiridian's Adams apple must have been enough to convince 
him that T'Kang's hot headedness was not some act.  He 
meant what he said.  And no matter how well paid a 
mercenary he was, the Yiridian wasn't going to die for a 
bunch of greedy merchants.

"Okay, okay.  I'll tell you."  Merlund sputtered quietly 
struggling to breath while T'Kang's fore arm kept him pinned 
off the ground and against the corridor wall.

"I am listening old man. . . . "  T'Kang hissed evilly.

"I was hired by your father to deliver that recording. . . ."

T'Kang didn't allow him to finish, pressing his weight into his 
forearm and choking the Yiridian into silence.  "More lies!"

"No! . . . *choke*, No! . . . *cough*,   That is true.  But I also 
work for the Consortium."

"Go on. . . . "  T'Kang ordered, loosening up on his choke 
hold a bit.

"Actually I worked for the Consortium all along.  It was by 
chance that your father hired me to deliver that message."  
Merlund explained in a fearful tone.  He realized that the 
Klingon held his life in his hands.

"And this recording, I suppose you've already viewed it and 
informed your Ferengi employers of it's contents?!"  T'Kang 
growled.

"Believe me, I tried.  They would have paid handsomely to 
know what was on it I am sure.  But your father was more 
clever than I gave him credit for.  He had it encrypted and I 
was unable to decipher the code."  the Yiridian explained.

Having heard enough, T'Kang let the old man drop back 
down to his feet, but still kept a strong hold onto his jacket.  
"I will have these things analyzed old man, and if it's 
determined that they have anything to do with the disrupted 
gel packs on board this vessel, I will personally see to it that 
you rot in a holding cell for the rest of your years."

Merlund was busy rubbing his throat to respond to the 
Klingon's comment.   With a jerk, he found himself being 
lead to the nearest turbolift as T'Kang and the Yiridian 
started heading for Security.