My name is Mudd ...

[Shalin 0]

Harcourt Fenton Mudd was an explorer, an entrepreneur, and an all around capitalist. That is how he would explain it. The Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets had a slightly different view represented in their dossier: a smuggler, a confidence artist, and a thief. Harry Mudd knew that were he to set foot on the Vulcan colony he would surely end up in yet another penal colony. Admittedly it would be a better, more civilized facility than Rura Penthe, but even an upholstered prison was still a prison. Sadly, the Captain appeared unsympathetic to his plight. If he was to retain his new-found freedom, it would be in direct opposition to the Captain and crew.

 

That left the ship’s other passenger.

 

Making his way to the ship’s lounge he deftly withdrew a program card which, with the help of a synthesizer, produced a passable version of a Long Island Iced Tea. Sipping on the elicit concoction relaxed him as he passed through initial pleasantries with Tch’ana. He remembered her from the colony: a sly girl, perhaps the most clever he had ever encountered. In a penal colony which devoured girls like her within hours she had managed to almost thrive. Now here they both were: the two most resourceful people on that cursed planet, each managing to barter their way out separately. Together, they would be unstoppable.

 

Harry smiled pleasantly to her as she finished her game of double-jack. “So: now that we are free of ice and dilithium mining, what are your plans?”

 

Tch’ana played a few final moves. “Plans, Harry? What makes you think I could have any plans? I didn’t think I was ever going to get out of there. Right now, I’m just happy to be free.”

 

Mudd smiled pleasantly. “Well now: if you don’t have any previous engagements to consider, what would you think of an opportunity to make yourself very rich?”

 

Her lips tightened before smiling. “Rich … I’ve never been rich. I’ve heard that a person can live very comfortable that way.” Turning to him, she tapped long dark fingernails on the table. “Go on …”

 

“Well, I would like to …” Harry looked about the room with an almost cartoonish look of concern on his face. “… but in a ship such as this, we cannot help but be surrounded by disreputable characters.”

 

Tch’ana looked about, smiling softly. “Agreed … shall we retreat to my quarters?”

 

Offering her his arm, Harry escorted Tch’ana back to the stateroom she was assigned. Like all the others it was plain, but thankfully Starfleet was not inherently suspicious. A quick check of a small device assured Harry that they were not being monitored. He turned to check the door to make sure it was secure. “Young lady – I must confess that my interest in you is more than just proffeeeEEESSS … !”

 

With a strength that belied her soft looks, Tch’ana whipped Harry across the room, slamming his back into a closet door as she pounced in front of him. She held a primitive shiv left over from the prison backhanded, its crude blade pressed to Harry’s throat as grey eyes with pupils as fully black as space itself held his undivided attention. A sibilant voice hissed past rows of razor sharp teeth. “You listen to this, and listen good! I’m free, and I’m not about to let anyone lock me away again – EVER!”

 

“Ap … pa … pa pa pa …” Harry stuttered as he tried to regain his bearings in the face of this terror. “It … it just so happens I had the same thought, a’ a’ and was rather hoping you’d agree …”

 

Tch’ana’s appearance shifted suddenly, softening into an almost child-like innocence. Razor teeth took on a more mammalian form as her expression became apologetic. The shiv was drawn away in a moment, and she backed away from Harry in a swaying, almost submissive pose. “Really? That’s … kind of awkward, actually.”

 

Harry regained his composure in a heartbeat. “Not at all, dear … I quite understand your misgivings, for I share them.” He gazed at his companion, slightly astonished at her changes. “You wouldn’t, by chance, be a Chameloid, would you?”

 

She shook her head. “No … I don’t know what I am. Little things change about me, but nothing big … nothing useful.”

 

“A pity; that would have been helpful, but no matter.” Harry found a seat to settle in. “I believe that we are both in the same situation: pleased to be free from the Klingons, but anxious about encountering Federation law. I was rather hoping that in a ship such as this that I could gain a sympathetic ear. Sadly this has not been the case.”

 

Tch’ana laughed merrily. “You thought someone on this ship would help you? That’s hilarious! Don’t you know who you’re with? The group that came in … the group they rescued … the fighters out on the planet’s surface? What did you think: that pirates were this organized and well equipped? Come here … look at the front of this ship.”

 

Harry looked out of the stateroom window. “An ancient Earth ship … kind of a slap-together job, isn’t it?”

 

She tsk’d at him. “That front section is what’s left of the Earth Ship Discovery, while this back portion belongs to the Socrates. Both of those ships were mothballed, not missing in action – get it?”

 

Harry considered what she was saying. “A fleet ship … this?”

 

She nodded. “Even fooled you. Starfleet saves a precious clutch of spies caught by the Klingons, and no one’s the wiser.”

 

Harry slumped in his seat. “If that’s true, then we’re in more of a predicament than before. These aren’t mercenaries or privateers – they’re Starfleet!”

 

Tch’ana smiled at him. “Cheer up, Tubby; we’ll get out of this better than not. You see, I’ve been watching out that window … not much else to do here. Do you want to know what shows up every twelve hours just under the saucer?” She smiled broadly, her gleaming pearly teeth still slightly pointed. “A Klingon Bird of Prey.”

 

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “A Klingon ship? Why?”

 

She sat back grinning. “There was one at the planet. It looked like it was strafing the escapees, but I think it was a decoy. Now: it comes close every twelve hours … I’m thinking a shift-change, perhaps even a re-supply. If we could get on board …”

 

It was Harry’s turn to smile. “We could be on our way ..”

 

( To Be Continued )