Navarre had finally regained control of his temper enough to return to the data disc and its menu. He viewed several displays of the Slavers at work, even discussing finances with potential clients regarding the purchase of slaves. Then, after several hours. He slowly rose from his chair, an expression of stunned disbelief on his face. "Gavik." He muttered softly. "We were right on them." The Slave Commander pointed to the map on the console table. "Right here." "And then?" The Klingon scowled deeply. "They simply vanished." The Commander shook his head slowly. "We searched for days, but with no trace to detect." "Perhaps a cloaking device was in use." The Second Slaver put forth. "It was an old freight modified for surveillance purposes." The Klingon growled angrily. "There was no cloaking device installed aboard that relic." He swiftly looked back to the commander. "The Orpheus is only a warp three capable freighter at best." His anger seemed to be intensifying by the second. "And you lost my prize when it was so close to my grasp." "We have heard that Navarre of Kronos is very skilled in helm and navigation." The Commander started looking nervous. "Navarre of Kronos?!" The Klingon yelled in rage. "Is that what he is called now? Navarre of Kronos. Bi'togh!" He grabbed the Commander with one hand, slamming him down onto the console even as his other hand came up with the knife by his side. Navarre paused the feed. He had his answers.He studied the frozen image for a moment. Remembering his half brother for the antagonist that he was. Then then stepped around the console and moved closer to the main view screen. His eyes locked onto the medallion the Klingon wore about his neck. "I remember it all know." He whispered softly. "It was you."