When they beamed down outside the seedy little bar that the Wadi trader reportedly had been headed to from Deep Space 9, Corsi immediately wanted a shower. The place looked as though it had been carved out of the asteroid, and now the asteroid was seriously considering reclamation. A thin layer of reddish-brown dust seemed to coat everything in the area, including her nostrils. If it hadn’t been for the aroma of dirt and grime, the mixture of sweat and sickly-sweet perfumes that assaulted her senses as she and Hawkins walked through the door might have sickened her.

She counted nine small tables scattered through the bar, but only two had patrons. At the table nearest her sat a large bipedal creature with an elongated snout, stubby claws in place of fingers, and tiny ears at the top of its black-furred head. It bore more of a resemblance to a two-meter-tall wombat than any other humanoid she’d ever seen. A bowl of something wriggling sat before it. Corsi wasn’t sure she wanted to know precisely what it was, but what little she saw as the creature scooped the contents into its mouth immediately sent her appetite packing.

In the back of the bar, behind two scantily clad red-haired Bajoran females, sat a heavyset male with long black hair pulled back from his face. A large, ornate pattern was either tattooed or painted—at that distance, she couldn’t quite tell—in dark blue on his forehead. The two Bajoran women were pawing his gold-accented blue tunic. From the descriptions Captain Kira had sent along with the flight plan, she figured this was Tellow.

Hawkins followed her into the bar, a look of distaste on his features. “Sure we’ve got the right place, boss?”

“Go home, Starfleeter,” the bartender—a tall, muscular humanoid with rust-red skin, a dark pewter-toned bodysuit that came up in a hood over his forehead, and metallic face paint on his cheeks—said. “Get back through the anomaly where you belong. You got no power here.”

Dosi, Corsi thought. Bad attitude toward the Federation, and no problem with forwarding a Dominion agenda. Think we’ve got the right place.

“Not until I talk to Tellow.”

The Dosi’s bright orange lip curled up in a sneer. “What do you want with Tellow?”

Before she could answer, the two Bajoran women came up and began pawing over Hawkins. One purred into his ear, while the other curled around him like a snake. The conflicted look on her deputy’s face said he couldn’t figure out whether to enjoy the attention, or shoo the women away.

Considering that he and Carol Abramowitz had been seeing each other since Teneb, Corsi immediately began wondering how much this might be worth on the blackmail market. That thought was short-lived as she realized the situation for what it was—a distraction. She immediately turned to the heavyset man who had been in the company of the two women. He was sliding his way out from behind the table and toward a back door. Why do they always run?

“Hawkins,” Corsi said, fighting the urge to laugh at the man’s pained expression, “keep an eye on your new friends, will you? I’m going to go have a little chat.”

She slipped easily between the tables, getting through the back door and into what appeared to be the empty—but just as grimy—kitchen a few seconds after the Wadi. A clattering sounded from her right as a tray full of metal plates fell to the floor.

“Don’t bother, Tellow!” she yelled. “I’ve got people covering the landing bays. You won’t get anywhere.”

A growl emanated from the other side of the kitchen. Finally, Tellow rose from his hiding place behind a pantry. On any other humanoid, the unpleasant twist to his lips would have been far more disquieting. “What do you want, Starfleet?” he asked, his deep, raspy voice nearly a snarl.

“You know, it doesn’t look good when you run.”

Corsi took a step closer to the Wadi. A flash of light near his wrist caught her attention. She quickly drew her phaser. “Drop the weapon.” When he did nothing more than stare at her, she made a show of adjusting a setting. “You can be put in the brig quietly, or I can shoot you and drag you there. Your choice.”

Tellow reached toward his wrist, pulling out a small blade. It fell to the floor with a clatter. “What do you want?”

The phaser didn’t waver. “All of it.”

The Wadi reached under his tunic, pulling out a small pistol.

Corsi raised an eyebrow questioningly. She really didn’t like the idea of patting the sweating behemoth down, but when Tellow didn’t reach for any other weapons, she didn’t see any other choice. “Hands up,” she said, gesturing with the phaser. The Wadi finally succumbed. When she was satisfied that he was, in fact, unarmed, she grabbed his gun from the floor. Securing his right arm behind his back, she led him out into the bar…

…where she was faced with a sight that sucked the wind right out of her sails. Hawkins had both of his Bajoran “assailants” sitting in chairs in one corner, his phaser warily trained on them. Damn. The blackmail potential on that was priceless.

Corsi leaned on Tellow’s arm, pushing him forward. “Now, why run like that? I just want to ask you a few questions. Running like that might make me think you had something to hide.”

Tellow’s dark head shook. “No. I don’t deal with Starfleeters.”

A thin smile spread across Corsi’s lips. She pushed the Wadi against the nearest wall, allowing him to turn around. When he could see her face, and his own pistol pointed directly at his chest, she put on her best predatory expression. “No, but you do deal with Ferengi.”

Something resembling a growl came from Tellow’s throat.

Unabated, she continued, “And that Ferengi, he deals with Starfleeters. One of the things he traded was a weapon—a weapon he says you sold to him, and a weapon we found traces of Wadi DNA on.”

“I don’t know anything about a weapon or a Ferengi.”

“Do you know anything about Betazoids?” she asked, a thin smile spreading on her features.

Tellow’s eyes widened. “Federation law—”

“That weapon you sold was directly responsible for the deaths of two of my crew,” she said. “Do you think I have any problems with stretching Federation law until you can read through it to get whoever’s responsible?”

“Commander,” Hawkins said, “are you sure about this? The captain—”

“I don’t care what the captain thinks!” she shot back. The look in her deputy’s eyes said he’d picked up on what she was doing. Good cop, bad cop, Hawkins. Good cop, bad cop. “We’re dealing with a threat to Federation security here. We do whatever it takes. If that requires getting our resident Betazoid to pull the name of the guy that created the device out of this worthless bum’s head, that’s what it takes.”

She hoped Hawkins wouldn’t blow it by mentioning that Rennan Konya was too low-level a telepath for such a thing, and he didn’t disappoint. He looked appropriately chastised as he quickly nodded. “Okay, boss. Sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”

It was tempting to let him loose, as the sharp briny smell coming from the Wadi was getting worse. When was the last time this guy had a bath? Those two women must have had their senses of smell removed. Finally, she shook her head. “Now,” she began, “are we going to play nice, or do I get to shoot you?”

Tellow’s eyes bounced back and forth between Hawkins and Corsi for a few moments.

“Or,” she said, intentionally sounding as though she’d just gotten the idea, “my friend here could do something to your lovely ladies that might make them, shall we say, a little less profitable?”

When she glanced over at Hawkins, she was pleased to see something bordering on a menacing expression on his features.

“Nothing life threatening, of course,” she added. “Just enough to cut into your profit margin.”

The Wadi’s eyes narrowed, sizing her up. “You would not. Starfleeters—”

“Give it up,” she flatly said. “I have no qualms about killing you and getting the information out of your ship’s computer. Matter of fact, I’m beginning to like the idea. It would save me some time. I’ve got a job to do here, Tellow, and you’re only in my way. Now, let’s dump the formalities and get down to business.” Resisting the urge to find a vat of soap and douse the Wadi, she leaned in closer. “Are you going to tell me what I want to know?”