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The Shipmaster's olive skin darkened, even as he braced himself to launch towards the weapons wall. "Six light years? You're insane! That's beyond the range of any transporter!"
"Not subspace transporters, something I thought only existed as space legends until I was given one - oh, and unless you want to see what the inside of your colon looks like after I shove your head up your ass, I suggest you stay where you are for the moment and try not to go for a weapon." He walked up to the Shipmaster, holding out the glass. "Now, as I was starting to say in my transmission: I have a proposal for you, a very profitable assignment."
Nesrac stared at the offering, emotions creasing his thin features. Then he accepted the glass and drank. "I'm listening."
"Good. I've been hired to put together an organisation that will operate in Federation space, assigned with one mission in mind, but if successful could allow us to continue. It will be made up of a... diverse number of specialists of different races, but I want an Orion as my second-in-command, and with a ship and crew of his own."
"Someone you can trust?" Nesrac asked, sneering.
Surinh grunted contemptuously. "I didn't just drop out of my mother's cuksir yesterday. I'm looking for someone who understands Lokkerc's Law."
Nesrac nodded, like any other of their people recognising the old adage: 'Every Orion for himself, unless there are infidels to be fleeced'. "Who hired you?"
Surinh smiled. "Let's just say it's corporate sponsorship. Sponsorship with deep pockets... and access to advanced technology like subspace transporters."
"Oh? And what do they want in exchange?"
The visitor picked up the bottle. "Well, now, that's the best part, and another reason why I chose you. They want us to utterly destroy a man we're both familiar with, one who ruined my life and left your father broken and humiliated beyond repair: Esek Hrelle, former Captain, now Commodore."
Nesrac started at the name. "That fat furry bastard?"
"You know another?"
Nesrac regarded him further, and then held up his glass for a refill. "Well then, Sire, what shall we name this organisation of ours?"
Surinh poured him his drink. "Our sponsor and leader has already given us a name: the Bel-Zon..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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