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surprised by Charles’ answer.  “Nothing you don’t
already know about, sir.”
    “Do a ship sensor sweep
and check for anomalies within the last station hour.”
    Lena raised a brow at
that, a half smile returning to her lips.
    “You got that feeling in
your gut?” the voice asked, going serious.  “Should we be expecting trouble?”
    He ticked off the com and
raised his own brow.  “The Prime?”
    She shook her head.  “He
has no idea I’m here.”
    He ticked the com back
on.  “Morgan, if the Alpha Prime Commander suddenly shows up demanding entrance,”
he started and watched her eyes widen and her mouth open to speak, but he beat
her to it, “let him come.”  Lena’s mouth closed with an audible snap.
    Charles was silent for a
prolonged moment.  “Say again?”
    “You heard the order; Lo
Cordan shows up, open all the hatches and move the men out of the way.”  He did
not even try to keep the impatience out of his voice.  Not that he could blame
Charles, the orders were ridiculous.  But he was not about to have a rampaging
Prime tearing apart his ship or men because his Pletar was being held.  “Don’t
try to stop him, or question him, just let him come.” 
    “To your ready room,
sir?  On the ship ?”
    “Ambar out,” he growled
by way of answer, ticking the com off in mid stutter.
    “I don’t plan on staying
long enough for him to come looking,” she explained as soon as the com shut
off.
    “You wanted answers.  So
do I.”  This time he was the one who smiled.  It felt inordinately good when
she suddenly looked worried.  “And you aren’t leaving until I get what I want
from you.”
    ***
    Lo smelled The Collector
before he walked into the room with his aid.  He stood fluidly, as if he had
not been completely frozen for half a station hour.  The little man beside the
hooded figure jumped back at the sudden movement, a fear scent wafting bitterly
around the room.  From The Collector there was no reaction, other than one
disgusted glance at his scared man, which had the scent racketing up to sheer
terror. Interesting.
    Lo looked closer at the
little man, pink-skinned, white eyes, and four arms.  A Tarelian – he had not
seen one of those since the slave wars were fought and slavery was outlawed. 
The Tarelians, never having a large population base because of their exacting
biological needs for breeding, had been a slaving race, and most of them died
defending that way of life. The rest he assumed died out eventually, their
planet taking the brunt of the battle.  An inferior species, Cordan showed long
sharp teeth in a small snarl.  They dealt in the misery of others and poison
was their weapon of choice.  A fitting companion for The Collector, though he
looked less than thrilled to be in the man’s service, which was also fitting as
far as Lo was concerned.  He switched his focus to the real danger in the room.
    Close to Cordan in height,
he towered over most people, and it was impossible to describe what the man
looked like, because he was forever shrouded in that ridiculous red cloak.  He
knew he had black eyes and skin so white that faint traces of blue veins could
be seen across the pasty hands, whenever he untucked them from his cloak, which
was rare. 
    After a warning look, and
clearly some communication Cordan could not hear, the little man stepped
forward looking ready to piss himself in fear, but determined.  “Thank you for
waiting, most esteemed guest, but his eminence would like to inquire on the
reason for the unexpected visit. As you know he is a very busy man, today of
all days.”  Here the Tarelian paused. “He also wishes me to assure you he will
not be accepting any bids prior to the auction itself.”
    They wanted to get right
down to it, and he was more than happy to oblige.  All ready his nose was
filling with the overwhelming stench of malicious deceit.  He chuffed and shook
his head, wishing he could rid himself of the cloying wreak so