Mellet Gall awoke groggily. This wasn't usual. It let him know he'd been drugged.

Gall rolled over and surveyed his surroundings. A small, cozy looking room. He was on a bed. The bed was not up to his usual standards. No anti grav, no repulsor massages. It seemed to be just a flat padded surface.

Gall unsteadily made his way to his feet. He was nude.

Looking around he saw clothing laid out. It was drab stuff, in a sort of style reminiscent of human clothing.

Khaki slacks, deck shoes, a black t-shirt and a strange black coat with a white trim.

Gall looked as the clothing with a sneer. This was a complete affront to his station in life.

Gall rifled the room he found himself in. He found more of the same sorts of clothing, and toiletries, items that a common man might find useful.

In time, Gall gritted his teeth and put on on the rags left to him by his captors. That was still preferable to nudity if only for practical reasons.

Gall took the lamp on the night table. He discovered that it was connected to the wall by a cord, but a swift yank took care of that. Brandishing his improvised weapon, Gall opened the door and moved into a sort of living room. The screen was placed inconveniently in a large box dominating one side of the living room. The furniture struck him as archaic and definitely not of the standards a man of his stature was used to.

Gall sneered to himself. He'd done his time on the streets and in the alleys. He knew about how rough life could be. Except for a man who could take the means to better himself. After all, was that not the Natural Order?

Gall slid over to a curtained window and pulled it back slightly. He saw white stucco buildings in bright, warm sunlight, looking out over a very cool looking blue ocean. There were people. Orions walking about.

Gall searched the place. It was an apartment of some kind, fitted out in a very primitive style. Gall had no idea how to use most of the trappings of the place. There was a generic replicator set into the kitchen wall. But Gall refused to trust it.

He trashed the place, throwing implements, dishes and cookware all over. He could find nothing out of place.

After an hour Gall stared at the front door. If he appeared without the trappings of his Noble status, he'd risk loosing his status.

Finally Gall made up his mind and exited the apartment.

Standing on the street he grabbed a passing Orion woman. “Woman! Who is the Lord of this place?”

She looked at him quizzically. “That would be Number One.”

“Where is his Palace? Quickly!”

She pointed to the south “The Village administration is in the headquarters.”

Gall released the woman and stomped off towards the center of the Village.

-*-

Gall pushed open the door and strode into the office like he owned it.

A man sitting on a high dais looked at him impassively. Finally, someone in charge.

“I am Mellet Gall! I demand to speak to your lord and master.”

“I am Number Two.” The man said.

“Then that means you're not important enough to delay me. Summon your Lord!” Gall spoke sharply.

“You are number Six.”

The hell I am, Summon Number One!”

“We hope you enjoy your stay in The Village, Number Six.” Number Two said.

“I am not a NUMBER! I am an Orion LORD! When your master hears of this you'll be flayed alive!” Gall was shouting now.
“Oh, I don't think so,” Number Two said.

Chills ran up and down Gall's spine. “Who runs this place? Who is your Lord?”

“That would be telling.”

“What does he want? Ransom? He wants me to do something for him?” Gall asked, trying to figure out why he was in his current position.

“We want information.”

“I need to know who I am dealing with. Send for your Lord and I will negotiate with him.”

“That would be telling.”

“Then you'll get no information from me!”

“By hook or by crook, Number Six, we will.”

-*-

MacPhearson chewed his lip. “Okay, walk me through this again?”

Goohanban explained **We have unhinged his expectations. Following this we will challenge his identity, his sense of who he is. As he reasserts his identity he will be displaying his true nature to us. With enough observation, we'll know him better than he knows himself. Then we might start getting useful information from him.**

“Does this seem a little arcane to you?”

**It would be much simpler to simply rip what we want from his mind. But who would we be then?** Goohanban asked. **Besides, This is actually sort of fun. Like a mix of chess, poker and truth or dare**

“Will there be living people in there with him?” MacPhearson asked.

**In time. Now he'll kill a few holograms to try and reassert his status. Once he's learned that this is futile, he'll be safe for the actors to engage.** Goohanban said.

MacPhearson shook his head. “Where did you get the setting?”

**It's a classic.**

MacPhearson stood up. “Call me when you have something to report.”

**We'll be seeing you.** Goohanban said.

MacPhearson turned and looked at his Chief of Counter Intelligence. He didn't ask what that was supposed to mean. He'd been around the Ane for long enough now not to bother.

Goohanban was back into watching the repeater screens. Every move Gall made, every word he said, every expression on his face was carefully recorded and monitored in the hidden holographic environment.

Goohanban's tail was flipping wildly in what MacPhearson took to be the Ane gesture for grinning behind their poker faces. He'd seen it a lot.

-*-

“I AM NOT A NUMBER!!” Number Six shouted at the top of his lungs.