(Standard Year 2253)
Return to Valjiir Stories
Jeremy watched the exchange with interest. This was definitely not like any of the infamous bantering he'd heard so much about. The fact that he knew very well what was being discussed helped him understand it only so far. McCoy obviously thought Spock would blame his Antari wife for the short-lived but disastrous affair she'd had with the Cajun engineer. Why McCoy would think this is what Jeremy didn't quite get. And the fact that James Kirk knew none of it made his reactions downright phlegmatic.
Which Jeremy made meticulous note of for inclusion in his report to Admiral Baker.
He leaned back in his chair, putting one booted foot against the edge of the table and closed his eyes. Occasionally sipping from his coffee cup, he presented the picture of relaxed indifference. From this posture, he carefully eavesdropped on the ongoing conversation.
"Let's have it, Spock," Captain Kirk said. His voice was reasonable, but resolute. Perfectly proper for the situation, Jeremy noted. There was some hesitation before Spock answered.
"I spoke to you about the - distance - I deemed necessary to carry out the order of Starfleet concerning..."
"Yes, Spock," Kirk cut in. "Go on." Direct, not letting Spock stall, but not impatient. Good.
"It was most difficult for Ruth."
"I imagine it would be - and for you." Sympathy, acknowledgement - but no backing down. Good again.
"There was an incident - the details can be found in the reports concerning Haddor - in which..." The whistling of the intercom interrupted Spock's words.
"Captain Kirk," Lieutenant. M'ress' voice purred. "Incoming message from Headquarters."
Jeremy heard a controlled sigh, then the sound of Kirk getting to his feet, moving to the comm.
"I'll take it in briefing room six, Lieutenant. Have Commander Uhura and Mr. Scott meet me there. Kirk out." More footsteps, moving back. "Gentlemen, I'm sure that will be our briefing on Gwindias. Mr. Paget?"
Jeremy jerked to his feet as though hearing Kirk address him was unexpected. "Yes, sir?" he said as he turned to face the captain.
"Mission briefing. If you'll accompany us?"
"Yes, sir," Jeremy returned.
"Spock, we'll finish this later," Kirk said. Stern, uncompromising. Very, very good.
Jeremy was smiling as he followed the group out of the rec room.
Jade remained seated as Jim, Spock and Leonard left the room. So it was that she noticed Commander Paget's incongruous smile. There was something about it she didn't like, something that made her wary. Nothing she could put her finger on, but...
Sighing, she went to the replicator and got a large bowl of soup, some French bread, cheese, fruit, and a pot of tea. No sense in them all going hungry. And once she'd eaten, she'd be able to consider everything - like Jeremy Paget's odd reaction - much more clearly.
The briefing dossier was ready for display when Kirk, Spock, McCoy and Paget arrived. Uhura came in moments later, followed by Scott. Spock keyed in a ready signal as each person took a seat, enabling them to see the terminal screens.
"Gwindias," the disembodied computer voice informed as an image of a blue and sea-green planet appeared on the screen. "Fourth planet, Auroras Nine system. Class M, Technological Scale 18." Quick images of rural and urban areas, manufacturing, technology, all within 50 years of Federation standards. "Dominant species: Humanoid, tri-sexual." Three basic humanoid figures labeled 'itan,' 'isan,' and 'ikan' with obvious physical differences. "Planetary government: elected parliamentary system." Several scenes of election processes, governmental agencies, legislative assemblies and the current Planetary Secretary. "Federation status: negotiating toward Protectorate. Prime Directive not applicable. Stardate 5876.4 received message from Secretary Aldil concerning threat to negotiations. Message as follows."
The face that appeared on the viewscreen was basically humanoid: two eyes near the midpoint of the face, a nose beneath them, a mouth beneath that. The skin color was a basic humanoid brown. And it wore a basic humanoid expression: anger.
"I had thought," Aldil's carefully controlled voice began, "our basis for Treaty with the Federation provided for our security from alien invasion in exchange for mineral rights. This was to provide us with the safety we need to stabilize our economy and attain full member status in the Federation." The face on the screen frowned. "Now I find there is a Federation citizen disrupting that very attempt. We have received reports of this Human - "
On the screen, Aldil's hand touched a button, and a hologram appeared on the now split screen. The holo showed a man engaged in conversation with a group of three Gwindians, gesturing expansively towards what looked like another Human. A Human who stood very still. A Human who wore an oval-shaped patch, a number within it, at its breast.
"Oh no..." Kirk groaned.
"... offering for sale to our leading corporations what he claims are perfect androids. What is more, he claims these androids can manufacture other androids. Surely, this is a threat to the very stabilization of our economy which we seek Treaty with you to protect. And as this - man - is Human, we claim it would fall under such Treaty for your Fleet to remove him as an alien intruder. If this cannot be done quickly and efficiently, Gwindias has no recourse but to doubt the Federation's ability to provide the protection offered."
The screen went dark.
"And we're supposed to go get him," Paget commented.
"That is the assignment, Mr. Paget," Spock confirmed.
"With as little disruption of treaty negotiations as possible," Kirk added sourly.
"How did he ever get off of that android planet?" Scotty asked.
"There is no information on that available," Spock said after a moment at the computer's keyboard.
"What matters is that he did," Kirk rejoined, "with the knowledge of crafting the androids."
"Unless he's lying," Paget said. "Mudd's a notorious conman."
"He's got one with him on that holo," Uhura reminded.
"Doesn't mean a thing," Paget said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"While that's certainly true," Kirk said, "I've found it best, in dealing with Harry Mudd, to assume he can do what he says he can."
"Aye," Scott sighed. "Ye get into a lot less trouble that way."
"If there's such a thing as 'less trouble' where that slippery son-of-a-bitch is concerned," McCoy grumbled.
"It should be a relatively simple task," Spock said. "Mr. Mudd can be easily located with our sensors due to his Human physiology. Since this is at the request of the Gwindias government..."
"Yes, Spock, it should be simple," Kirk returned. "But this is Harry Mudd we're talking about."
"Now don't go borrowin' trouble, Jim," McCoy admonished.
Kirk gave him a look of frank disbelief. "Didn't you just say something about slippery son-of-a-bitch?"
"Just doin' Jade's job in her absence," McCoy shot back, fighting a grin. Kirk shook his head, his own lips engaging in a similar battle.
"ETA to Gwindias, Spock?" he asked instead.
"9 hours, 32 minutes, Captain."
"All right. Let's find out as much as we can about Mr. Mudd's activities in the last few years before then. Dismissed."
McCoy waited while the other officers left the briefing room.
"Well, Bones," Jim asked, "how did I do?"
"Now why're you askin' me?" McCoy replied.
"Because you'll be honest with me," Jim returned, then paused as the grin won the battle. "And you stayed behind to tell me."
"Just doin'..." McCoy began.
"... Jade's job," Jim finished with him. They laughed, then Jim asked again, "So how did I do?"
"Do you really need me to tell you?" McCoy said.
Jim looked around the briefing room, and cocked his head to one side, thinking. "No," he said at last, and smiled confidently. "No, Bones. I don't."
And that, Jeremy thought to himself as he discreetly left the bulkhead adjacent to the briefing room door, goes into my report to Baker too.
There were a very large pair of boots on the table. To the left of those boots was a set of documents, signed and stamped with the seals of the official recording secretaries of the Fourth Majestic Brigade, indicating that the agreement had been duly dawn up and properly presented. The documents still awaited the seals of the primary signatories to make it a legal contract according to Gwindian law. First, there was the little matter of assurances.
The feet in those boots belonged to Harcourt Fenton Mudd - a big man, not only physically large, but expansive and ebullient, with a booming voice and openly jovial face - who was reclining in a nearby chair, playing idly with his enormous mustache. He had no idea why the group he was talking to called itself the Fourth Majestic Brigade - why "fourth" when there were really no others? Had there once been more? Were there also some less majestic brigades? - But frankly, he didn't care. What he really cared about were three things.
First, he was about to conclude the biggest deal of his life.
Second, that deal would mean he would finally again be a free man.
But third, and perhaps most important -
The Gwidnian isan across the table from him was growling unhappily. Harry had no idea how they managed to have three sexes here, but he cared even less about that than he did about the naming of the Fourth Majestic Brigade.
"Why do you insist on this codicil?" General Ekad demanded. "We are scarcely in a position to transport you out of our system, and even if we were - "
"My dear General," Harry oozed, "surely for a - " he almost said man, but was uncertain if that would be the correct pronoun - "a great leader of your stature, surely there is a way you could arrange it, especially given the vast army I am about to put at your disposal - "
"Even if we were," Ekad continued, unfazed, "how could we know these androids would do as we wish once you were gone?"
Harry laughed good-naturedly. "But you've seen how cooperative and obsequious they are, how eager all of them are to see to your every mood and whim - "
"While you are here to watch them, yes."
Harry put his boots on the floor, and sat up straight. "You don't trust me, General. I'm hurt."
"And why should we? How do I know that once you are out of our sight you won't come right back and sell more of them, to the Auroras Retainers, or even the conglomerates?"
Harry laughed again. "My good general. The Retainers wouldn't have them. They hardly tolerate your planet's contact with the Federation. Why would they want alien technology like this?"
General Ekad narrowed his eye slits. "And how would you know the Retainers don't want them?"
The trader sighed, and leaned forward, conspiratorially. "I'm a businessman. I admit it, I went to them first. That was my mistake, of course, I should have never looked anywhere but to the Brigade, but you know I'm not from around here." He smiled. "Rest assured, even if I wanted to sell to them, they don't want them."
Ekad grunted. "But I'm sure the conglomerates do. It's hard enough getting citizens to work in their offworld mines. Your androids would be perfect. But I can't have a potential rival army facing mine."
Harry stood. He flapped his coat a little. "General, there is an easy solution to that." He gestured at the documents. "The contract calls for you to purchase ten androids from me. You saw how many were on my ship. You still have my ship impounded, and frankly, I don't want it back. I brought seventeen of the little - of these marvelous devices with me. Buy them all if you want."
Ekad looked uncertain.
Harry made a great show of reluctance. "I know what you're thinking, how could any - any being give up the convenience of all his perfect servants? The answer, dear general, is a show of just how earnest I am, how truly anxious I am to show my good faith and trustworthiness. Yes indeed, I am willing to make this great sacrifice, if it would but put your mind at rest."
Harry put his knuckles on the table, and leaned forward. "And if you keep them all here, it reduces the risk of the government finding any of them on me and thus being able to copy your perfect weapons. Until you are ready to move, the secret will be yours - and yours alone."
Ekad considered, then stood. "I will provide you transport, but only once I have seen the first new models fully assembled. During that time, the androids themselves will be given to think you are gone, and we can see how they react. Until then, Trader Mudd, you will be our guest. If that is not acceptable, we can always simply keep your androids, and give you over to the Government for illegal trade." And Ekad displayed a great number of teeth within that slit of a mouth.
Matson Ovil didn't trust Harry Mudd as far as he could've thrown him. The Human had shown up at the Trading Block with a fantastic claim; self-replicating androids which could be programmed to do just about anything - "including matters of a delicate personal nature" Mudd had added with a knowing wink. As the Senior Trader for the Gwindian Galactic Conglomerate, Ovil had naturally been intrigued. He had arranged to meet Mudd with GGC's Senior Financier and Senior Production Engineer to examine the merchandise and close a deal fast before the Conglomerate's arch-rival, Technology Incorporated, or worse, the military, could make a better offer. He had to admit, Mudd had indeed produced an android, one that looked very Human, though it was claimed the outer skin could be adjusted to more standard Gwindian form. The thing actually gave Ovil the creeps, but business was business.
He was addressing his Board of Directors when his aide came in, carrying a communications handset. "It's Trader Mudd," the aide whispered. "He says it's urgent."
"Excuse me, my comrades," Ovil said courteously and took the handset, stepping out of the boardroom.
"Yes, Master Mudd, what is it? I'm about to close the deal we spoke of..."
"Yes, well, about that," Harry's Mudd's conciliatory voice interrupted. "I'm afraid I'll have to - uh - withdraw my offer to the GGC."
Ovil's jaw clenched. ""What did TechCorp promise you?" he growled.
"Nothing, as I told you, I haven't spoken with them."
"Then what's the...?"
I'm afraid I'm being - detained - by the Fourth Majestic Brigade."
"What?!" As a passing aide blinked at his shout, Ovil quickly turned to the wall, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "How exactly did that happen, Master Mudd?"
"Such details aren't important, my good being," Mudd returned. "But suffice it to say I will be unable to consummate our business dealings as planned. The Brigade has confiscated my ship and all the androids aboard."
Ovil swore inventively. "Where are you, Trader?" he asked. He could hear the scowl as the Human answered.
"In what the Brigade calls protective custody, I think in their Security Facility just outside the city."
"And if I could arrange matters so that you and your ship are released?"
"Oh, my dear Ovil, I could never impose on you like that," Mudd replied, then paused and added, "could I?"
Ovil ground his teeth. This was the biggest deal of his career, possibly of any career. The profit to the mining interests alone would be phenomenal, and since the androids could be adjusted to serve as any kind of labor force, the potential was virtually unlimited. "Our deal would then be fully ratified?" he asked.
"Anyone who could pull off such a feat would certainly be worthy of it," Mudd agreed, without, Ovil noted, actually agreeing.
"I can take it up with certain key members of our Board, Master Mudd. There's no need for further contact. If a rescue term arrives for you, you'll know we have a deal."
"How very kind of you, Senior Trader," Mudd said obsequiously. "Until then?"
Ovil humphed as he closed the communications link. No, he didn't trust Trader Mudd one little bit.
Jim called for another briefing just before the Enterprise made orbit around Gwindias. Unfortunately, there was little new to report. There was no information regarding how Harry Mudd had managed to escape the android planet, Spock drawing the obvious inference that the trader had been allowed to leave - though for what reason, the Vulcan couldn't fathom. There were only a few scattered reports of his movements since then, relatively minor and unimportant indications of very usual trading and deals with only a few irregularities.
"You mean illegalities, don't you?" McCoy put in.
"No official charges have been laid, Doctor, hence my terminology."
"The Sassenach didna get caught," Scott said with a bemused scowl.
"But he had the androids with him?" Jim wanted to know.
"If he did, they remained on his vessel during his encounters," Spock supplied.
"Smart bastard, I'll give him that," Paget commented.
"Very well,' Jim said. "Uhura, contact the Gwindian government and get their permission for a planetary sensor sweep. We'll find Harry, beam him up, and that will be that. Dismissed."
"You really think it's gonna be that easy, Jim-boy?" McCoy asked.
Jim gave him a crooked grin. "No. But where's there's life..." He let the sentence drop and McCoy shook his head.
"Captain we received permission and got a fix on Harry Mudd's position, but...." Uhura reported as Jim stepped onto the Bridge.
"I knew there'd be a 'but', Miss Uhura," Jim sighed as he took his seat in the con.
"Yes, sir," she grinned at him. "We've identified the building where he's being held. It's a military installation."
"The government of Gwindias has no standing army, Miss Uhura," Spock said, turning from the Sciences Station.
"Yes, sir, I mean, no sir," Uhura replied. "This is the Fourth Majestic Brigade, an opposition faction that has attempted unsuccessful military coups of the government several times in the past few decades."
Spock studied his sensor array. "The installation Miss Uhura indicates has a shield against transporter technology, Captain," he reported.
"Figures," McCoy muttered.
"So we've walked ourselves into a potential guerrilla war," Jim mused with a frown.
"How's that, Jim?" the doctor asked. It was Jeremy Paget who answered.
"Android soldiers, Doctor," he said. "An unstoppable, virtually inexhaustible army. With that, their next coup would undoubtedly be a successful one."
"If Harry's sold them the androids," Jim agreed.
McCoy snorted. "And there's not much 'if' in that, is there?"
"Mr. Mudd is first and foremost a businessman," Spock interjected. "He would indeed sell to anyone - but only to the highest bidder."
"And after several failed coups, this Brigade might not have the resources Harry's looking for," Jim continued. He bit his lips, thinking, then swiveled to face the Science Station. "Spock, the briefing mentioned corporations. What do we know about Gwindian corporate structure?"
Spock called up the information on his library computer. "The two main rivals are the Gwindian Galactic Conglomerate and Technology Incorporated. Of the two, the Conglomerate has a larger asset base."
"Then that's where Harry went first," Jim said. "He always follows the money. If he went to the military in the hopes of starting a bidding war, they can't be too happy with him. Maybe they'll provide us with some assistance in getting to this military installation."
"As will the government itself," Spock offered. "They cannot favor the outfitting of this Brigade with unbeatable warriors."
"I'd like to keep the government out of our - uh - negotiations as long as possible," the captain returned. "Part of our assignment is to keep then interested in Federation membership. It won't look good if we go running to them for help."
Spock inclined his head in agreement and Kirk turned to Paget. "Arrange a team, Mr. Paget, heavy weapons issue."
"Heavy weapons, sir?" Spock asked as Jeremy nodded.
"They're military," Paget replied. "They'll respect the show of force." Jim grinned at him as Spock raised an eyebrow. Kirk obviously didn't object to his Security Chief answering questions directed at the captain.
Jeremy made a note of the confidence in his command that fact indicated - which was, of course, why he'd done it twice.
"Spock, Bones, you're with me," Jim said as he rose from the con. He turned to the helmsman. "Lieutenant Commander Walking Bear, you have the con. Uhura, have Bergmann see what he can do about negating the Brigade's transporter lock-out." He gestured toward the turbolift. "Gentlemen?"
"He's still a cowboy," McCoy commented to Spock as they entered the lift.
"Indeed," was the Vulcan's response, and there was a touch of both pleasure and pride in his voice.
"Gentlebeings, please!" Harry protested as he was forcibly escorted to a holding cell. "I was merely informing the Conglomerate that I'd made a firm deal with you!"
"But, my dear Master Mudd," General Ekad said with an unpleasant smile, "you neglected to inform us that they'd made an offer. As I stated earlier, we can't allow ourselves to lose the upperhand. This is for your protection as well as ours."
"You're the military. What can a corporation do against you?"
"I'm not about to give away any more of our secrets, Master Mudd. I told you, you will remain as our guest until we secure the androids, and have seen their self-replicating function, and that's just what we're doing."
"I assure you, I have no intention of leaving your custody..."
"And this will merely ensure that," Ekad said as the Human was thrown into the cell. The door clanged shut ominously behind him, and Ekad slid open the small viewing panel in it. "If all goes as you've promised, you'll be released in no time."
The panel was closed and Harry scowled, then set about examining the cell. There was a small cot - too small to comfortably accommodate his large frame - a short, bare table and one rather rickety-looking chair. No windows and only a small inset panel for illumination in the ceiling. With a disheartened sigh, he sat down on the cot, noting that it creaked beneath his weight.
"Well, my dear androids," he said to the empty room, "I hope this is what you want."
The landing party beamed down in a clearing concealed by tall brush and slender trees just outside the Brigade's installation. Jeremy deployed his team in a perimeter in the brush around the three senior officers, taking a position just behind the point man, just in front of his captain. He'd been regaled with many stories about Kirk's tendency to charge into situations half-cocked, and while the reports of his psychological progress indicated that he might have grown more cautious, Paget wasn't taking any chances.
"There is what appears to be a guard post approximately one kilometer ahead," Spock reported, consulting his tricorder.
Jim's communicator whistled softly and he flipped it open. "Kirk, here," he said quietly.
"Captain, the Gwindian Galactic Conglomerate advises us that their assistance party will rendezvous with you at your present location in five minutes," Uhura said. "They were familiar with Harry Mudd and seemed most eager to offer their aid."
"I'll just bet they were," McCoy snorted.
"Very good, Uhura, thank you." Jim replied. "Kirk out."
"Any idea what sort of 'aid' they'll be sending?" Jeremy asked, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
"The mostly likely scenario is negotiators," Spock returned. "They will be more familiar with the nuances of the political situation."
Paget nodded and gave a silent signal to his men.
"Jim," McCoy said, moving close to the captain, "what do we do if Mudd's already sold the androids?"
"I think we'll have to nullify any such sale, Bones. It shouldn't be a problem, since the government considers the trading illegal."
"Famous last words," McCoy muttered.
"Captain," Spock interjected, "it occurs to me that the androids must be in agreement with Mr. Mudd's plans, since they clearly have the potential to stop them."
"And?" Jim encouraged.
"It might make it more difficult to, as you say, nullify the sale if they do not wish it modified."
"You mean to tell me you think they want to become drones in some Gwindian machine, Spock?" McCoy interjected.
"That would imply, Doctor, that the androids have become capable of personal thought and desire - which would indicate sentience."
"Self-aware androids," Jim commented, shaking his head. "If I may borrow a phrase... oy."
"Which presents a considerable complication to our mission."
"No shit," Jim mumbled to himself, then straightened. "Do we know where the androids are now, Spock?"
"Not at present, Captain. Whatever conveyance Mr. Mudd used to journey here is the most likely place, but there is no ship currently in orbit and Secretary Aldil made no mention of such a vessel in his request to the Federation."
"My bet is he stole a cloak-capable ship, Captain," Paget put in.
Jim nodded thoughtfully and again pulled out his communicator, instructing the Assistant Science Officer, Jan Bergmann, to scan for any anomalies in the planet's orbital sphere.
"Which, if it's Valjiir, he won't find," was Jeremy's comment.
Spock raised an agreeing eyebrow and Jim sighed. "Why do those girls have to be so clever?"
McCoy chuckled. "Be grateful they are, Jim-boy, or you wouldn't be here."
Jim grinned and there was the twitter of a high-pitched whistle that sounded like the call of some exotic bird.
"Gwindians approaching at three o'clock," Paget said immediately.
Jim turned in that direction as a small group of well-dressed natives moved out of the brush that was concealing them.
"Captain Kirk?" said a smallish member of the itan gender. "I am Officer Matson Ovil with the Gwindian Galactic Conglomerate. These," he gestured behind him, "are my aides and associates. We're here to give whatever help we can."
"Greetings, Officer," Jim responded. "This is my First Officer, Mr. Spock, my Chief Medical Officer Dr. McCoy and my Chief of Security, Mr. Paget." The three nodded to Ovil, and Jim noted that Paget was carefully scrutinizing the entire six-member party. "We understand that a citizen of our Federation has been giving you some problems. We're here to retrieve him as quickly and with as little disruption to your business as possible."
"Good, the man's a scoundrel," Ovil said with a sneer. "Come with me, Captain. We can get you into the Brigade's facility."
"May I enquire..." Spock began.
"General Ekad will be expecting me," the itan replied. "He'll want his best men with him during our talk, and you can slip into the building and retrieve Trader Mudd."
Jim glanced at Spock, who nodded. He silently consulted Paget, receiving a wary shrug. "Lead the way, Officer Ovil," he said, and noted Paget's efficient hand gesture to his unseen men. It made him miss Sulu a little bit less. Paget had clearly not been trained in a dual specialty the way his former Security Chief had, and Jim found himself very pleased with the results.
Surprisingly, Ovil's plan went off without a hitch. He and his party simply walked up to the guard post, demanding to see General Ekad and, after a brief exchange of communications, were escorted the half a mile to the Brigade's stronghold. The Enterprise party followed covertly, and when the isan signaled the members of his guard to lower the force fields let the Officer pass, they slipped quietly in behind. One of Ovil's aides stayed with them long enough to whisper, "The detention cells are on the lower level along the eastern wall," then hurried to catch up with his/her superiors.
Paget again directed his men with hand signals and the party carefully made their way through the corridors of the facility. They met with only one guard, who was quickly dispatched when the point man applied what looked very much like the Vulcan neck pinch to his shoulder. Spock raised an eyebrow, and Paget grinned at him.
"I've made sure Security knows the technique," he whispered, "and the Gwindian musculature is delicate enough for a Human's strength to be effective."
"My commendation, Mr. Paget," Spock approved.
They at last came to a row of what looked like standard detention cells. The security team quietly slid the viewing panel of each door open in turn, until one of them motioned to Paget. The Ter-African moved to him, glanced inside the cell, and said, "We've found him Captain."
"No guards," McCoy commented. "Are Gwindians a trusting sort or are we just havin' a run of luck?"
"Let's not start counting chickens, Bones," Jim replied and he strode up to the cell door. He took a breath, then said, "Harry Mudd, as I live and breathe."
"Kirk?" came Harry's voice. "Captain Kirk?" Jimmy-boy am I ever glad to see you! Can you be gettin' me out of here?"
"That's just what we came to do," Jim returned. "Mr. Paget, is there a way we can open this door?"
Jeremy smiled. "Give me five minutes, Captain." He pulled a set of tuners from his belt, his team taking places at the end of the row and its adjacent intersections. In less than the requested five minutes, there was a hum and the lock of the cell door clicked open. It creaked on its hinges as Mudd pushed it open.
"Praise be to the great bird of the galaxy!" Mudd enthused. "These beings have confiscated my ship, my stock..."
"Which you were trying to sell them anyway," Jim answered, "in clear disregard of the Gwindian government's wishes."
"Well, yes," Mudd conceded, "but there are a few little factors involved here that..."
His voice was cut off by Paget's sudden announcement "Captain, vehicle approaching overhead."
The noise of what sounded like a helicopter soon echoed in the corridor, a voice booming out from it over a loudspeaker.
"This is an official government raid!" it announced. "We have you surrounded! Resistance is futile!"
"Oh brother..." Paget muttered.