Surefoot 28: Dead Man's Hand

"My Prize, you mean!" Hrelle corrected, following Zad'ik and the other Son'a down the hall.

It seemed to take an interminable amount of time to clear all the safeguards and have the Vault door roll aside, revealing... the door to the storage unit containing the Orb Ark open, and the contents missing.

"No..." Zad'ik murmured. "No..."

As he approached, Hrelle followed, shaking his head sadly. "Mother's Cubs... how could they... how could-" His foot kicked something on the floor. "What's that?"

Zad'ik looked down, noticing scraps of mist-scoured metal, twisted and pockmarked. Hrelle knelt and picked one up, examining it. "They look like isolinear tags."

"What?"

The Caitian turned the piece around in his hand. "They're little transporter homing beacons, enhancing signals to ensure safe transport in unsafe environments. Poachers use them on protected worlds to collect rare animals -- and slavers use them as well. I've apprehended criminal organisations who have used them."

Naa'len was there now, a Son'a scanner in hand, moving it around the room. "There are numerous DNA fragments in here -- Son'a, Human, Caitian -- but we know there have been visitors in here tonight. But there is definitely a recent trace of transporter energy in here."

Zad'ik shook with rage, looking to the Head of Security. "Lock down the station! I want the ones responsible for this taken!"

"There's no need," the Security Chief assured him. "We have him already." Then he turned and departed from the Vault, fully expecting the others to follow him.

Back in the Tournament Room, Naa'len strode up to Dumont. "He's the one."

Dumont paled. "W-What? You can't be serious!"

"What is going on?" Zad'ik demanded, looking to the Caitian female. "Who are you?"

"It's Hrelle's wife," Dumont exclaimed. "I recognise her image from our files!"

"Wrong," Hrelle informed him. "She does resemble my wife -- not as attractive as my real wife, of course -- but this agent has been playing my wife for the last several months, since the Vlathi incident."

Kami nodded formerly, producing the gold badge for Zad'ik. "Special Agent Tantomile, of the Mother's Claws."

"The what?"

"The Caitian Secret Service," Hrelle explained, as Kami put away her badge. "They've been assigned to me since the Bel-Zon sent the Vlathi to my ship to assassinate my family." He nodded to C'Rash. "Those are the other members of her team, Special Agents Coricopat and Pouncival. I'm reassigned temporarily from Starfleet and am acting as an unofficial member of the Claws for the duration of this mission, due to my special talents with the cards. Sadly, they wouldn't give me a badge of my own."

"This is nonsense!" Dumont declared.

"Be silent!" Zad'ik snapped, focusing on Naa'len. "You'd better be prepared to explain this."

"I am, Adhar," he assured smugly. "Agent Tantomile here arrived earlier tonight with a cover story. I saw through it easily, of course, as I did her second cover, and she eventually came clean with the truth."

Kami nodded in confirmation. "I must compliment you on the professionalism of your Security Chief here, Adhar. Yes, I eventually revealed who I was, and why we were here: to use the Tournament as cover to board Dumont's ship while he was off it, and clone his database on the Bel-Zon.

But along the way, we learned that Dumont had a secret operation all his own ongoing. He had heard you'd obtained a Bajoran Orb, and he had made plans to steal it from you, in the event that he couldn't win it fairly."

Now Dumont flushed. "What? That's preposterous! Why would I do that?"

"We have supplied evidence to your Security Chief that the Bel-Zon has been in communication with an extremist Bajoran faction known as The Alliance for Global Unity," Kami continued, still focused on Zad'ik. "The Alliance wished to obtain the Orb and use it as leverage to gain controlling power with the Bajoran government. In return, the Bel-Zon would get exclusive access to secretly grow their Vraxorin narcotic crop on one of the Bajoran system's habitable moons -- and as Bajor is not a Federation member, and the Alliance would hamper any efforts made to join the Federation, the Bel-Zon could act with impunity for many years."

"Bajorans?" Dumont spluttered. "We have no dealings with the Bajorans!"

Zad'ik looked at Kami, and then Hrelle, suspiciously. "Why would Caitian Security Services be so forthcoming with such intelligence?"

"Because our target was the Bel-Zon," Kami answered. "As far as we are aware, you have posed no direct threat to Caitian citizens. And I deemed it necessary to share this information in order to expedite our departure, in case you blamed us for any of Dumont's actions."

The Frenchman looked to Zad'ik. "Adhar, you can't listen to this-"

"I said be silent!" His face looked ready to split with anger as he returned to Kami. "Go on."

She complied. "Once it became clear what was going on, and that it would complicate our own mission, I openly approached Naa'len, told him the truth and showed him the evidence."

"Evidence? What evidence?" Dumont demanded, looking apoplectic. "There is none!"

"There's much," Naa'len corrected harshly. "And all damning. Earlier tonight, a Subadhar from the Docking Bays brought what looked like a newly-arrived Son'a female back to his quarters. He was assaulted in there, and his ID and communicator was taken. We found forensic evidence at the crime scene confirming it was a human female in disguise, and in fact have seen visual security recordings involving members of Dumont's crew.

The ID was employed to gain access to the station's maintenance conduit network, where grenades were planted in strategic locations, and an operative was placed in the conduit above the Vault. Then, at the proper time, a duonetic pulse was sent from Dumont's ship, disabling our power systems, and allowing that operative to beam into the Vault to steal the Orb."

"That would explain the isolinear tags we found in there," Hrelle observed. "To help pinpoint and steal the Prize, maybe even a few other things in there too while they were at it."

"This is absurd!" Dumont declared. "Why would I do all that? I was ready to win!"

"Until you lost," Hrelle reminded him. "And then seconds later after your loss was broadcast to the rest of the station, including your accomplices, the lights went out... and for that matter, as I recall, so did you."

"Yes," Zad'ik agreed slowly. "You did. Obviously trying to escape back to your ship."

"But your people betrayed you," Kami continued. "They broke free of the docking bay and are currently heading out of Open Space. Leaving you to face Son'a justice alone."

Dumont paled. "N-No! No, none of this is true!" He strode up to Zad'ik. "I was leaving because the lights went out and I didn't know why, and I was afraid of Hrelle attacking me! I made those fears clear to you from the start!"

"Yes," Zad'ik agreed, but not in a supportive way. "And you had me divert my guards from away from the Vault to be in here, just before the blackout."

"Don't forget the stolen Son'a communicator," Kami reminded Naa'len.

The Son'a nodded at that, focused on Dumont. "Yes, that. Should something go wrong, it would have been convenient to have a communicator not blocked by the shielding around the casino, something your accomplices could have locked on to beam you away."

Dumont looked to Za'dik pleadingly. "Adhar, I swear to you on my life... I DON'T HAVE A COMMUNICATOR!"

Naa'len drew closer, raising a communicator of his own and activating it.

A sound came from one of Dumont's jacket pockets.

The Frenchman gasped, struggling to reach in and withdraw the source, holding it up and declaring, "I- I don't know how this got in here!" He flung it aside, focusing on Hrelle, confusion and anxiety vying now with anger. "You did this! You set me up! All of this! You and your people did this!"

Hrelle grunted, drawing closer to him. "Why would we? We already got what we wanted: the intelligence from your ship, enough information to cripple the Bel-Zon's operations in this part of the Quadrant. Why bother setting you up as well? Besides... personally, I would want a lot more out of you than to just set you up. Much more. But we don't always get what we want out of life, do we? We just have to grab what we can."

Swiftly he reached out, grasped Dumont by his hand and crushed nearly every bone he encountered, the sounds almost immediately eclipsed by the Frenchman's screams as he dropped to his knees.

Hrelle let him go, glaring down at him. "That's what a baby's bones sound like when they break. Adieu, Monsieur Dumont. I don't think we'll meet again -- not after the Son'a have dealt with you."

Zad'ik signalled to Naa'len, whose Tarlac guards approached Dumont and grabbed him, lifting him up as he struggled, still wracked with pain but desperately pleading. "N-No- it's all lies! I didn't do anything! I swear!"

Hrelle watched Dumont depart, before facing Zad'ik again. "Well? Do you offer a cash equivalent?"

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"For the Prize? It wasn't my fault that you let someone steal it."

The Son'a glared at him. "You come here and disrupt my Tournament as part of some spy operation, and you have the gall to ask for money?"

"Hey, is that the thanks we get? We warned you about the treachery, and anyway I won the Tournament fair and square-"

"And if it comforts you, Captain, I will let Son'a Command know about the Bel-Zon's dealings, which no doubt will affect all our future business with them. But no, there is nothing in the Rules about a cash equivalent to the prize. You will remain listed nominally as the winner for this year, however."

"What? Son of a bitch..."

But then Kami put a hand on his shoulder. "Captain, our original objectives have been achieved. perhaps we should just go?"

He considered her suggestion, then grumbled as he departed with her and the other Caitians. "I was hoping for a promotion for returning an Orb..."

*

The four Caitians remained silent as they quickly strode back to the Opal Eye, until they entered through the docking port and the hatch closed behind them. Hrelle breathed out. "Cadet, initiate immediate departure sequences and get us away from here, Maximum Warp." As Rrori rushed to the cockpit, Hrelle turned to C'Rash. "Are the station's defence systems still down?"

She nodded. "They don't know it, though. Everything will look nominal until they try and use their tractor beams or disruptors."

"Good. And the objet d'attention?"

She frowned, before understanding. "Still in the Transporter Room. I'd stay away from it if I were you. I nearly didn't make it out of there because of it."

Kami looked intrigued. "Did it give you a vision?"

The sable-furred Caitian shook her head. "No, but if you stare at it too long, you think it's staring back at you. I'm gonna get up there with the Cub and alert the Surefoot to rendezvous with us and the Corsaire. And then prepare for all the inevitable jokes about my lapdancing."

As she started off, Hrelle called after her. "Lieutenant?"

She stopped and glared back at him, ready for the teasing.

Instead he strode up to her, holding out his hand. "Well done. Very well done. You were superb. Thank you."

"My... My pleasure, Sir." After a moment of hesitation, she nodded in gratitude and took his hand in return, before striding off again.

Hrelle and Kami looked to each other, before embracing tightly, Kami confessing, "I didn't think we'd get away with it."

"I know what you mean. I think I developed three or four ulcers tonight." His tail twitched as he felt the docking clamps release, and the cruiser's impulse engine power up, before the vessel banked away from the station and entered warp space. "T'Varik was superlative at planning all this; I hope I don't lose her to Starfleet Intelligence." He made a purring sound. "And you, you were magnificent. Very convincing."

"Not bad for an old woman with sagging boobs and a shuris roll around her waist. Allegedly." She gave him a playful smack on the back of his head. "They're gonna kill Dumont, aren't they?"

"Most likely. And with the false evidence provided to the Son'a, any potential business partnership between them and the Bel-Zon will collapse now. Not to mention how much we'll have crippled the Bel-Zon itself by eliminating their shipping and smuggling arm, and gaining access to their records, their contacts and operations in the Federation. Quite a victory."

"And yet you still felt the need to physically injure Dumont?"

He drew back to look into her eyes. "Well... I could have done worse to him, much worse. Consider it poetic justice for the Right Hand of the Bel-Zon."

Her expression sobered. "Don't be flippant about it, Esek. It's one thing to let the Beast out to protect yourself or others in the midst of battle. This was something else-"

He held up a placating hand. "I know, I know, I indulged myself too much. And I'm supposed to be better than that. Sorry."

Now she smiled. "Shall we go look at it? I've never seen one before up close."

He took her hand as she guided him to the small transporter unit and storage hold onboard the cruiser, where an hourglass-shaped crystal sat in its Ark on the pad, surrounded by coruscating white light.

Hrelle gasped, still in awe of it. -- and that their plan worked, that they convinced the Son'a that the Bel-Zon stole it. It was possible that the Son'a would hear later that they were deceived, but by then the original would be in the hands of the Bajorans, and then the Son'a can protest all they want to the Federation, for all the good it would do.

"T'Varik studied the scans of the Orb Ark from C'Rash's sensor readings," Kami noted quietly. "The Bajoran archives record it as being the Ark that held the 'Orb of Tomorrows'. Whatever that means."

"That sounds intriguing," Hrelle smiled, crouching beside it as his eyes adjusted to the arcane brilliance. "Imagine, learning about the future, knowing what's to come..."

His wife shook her head. "I like surprises. Don't you?"

His smile blossomed into a grin. "No. I've had enough of them in my life. If I have to face the unexpected, I want a warning about it."

He reached out to touch the Orb.

"Esek, wait-"

He didn't remember actually touching the surface of the Orb, couldn't tell if it was hot or cold, hard or soft, smooth or furry, except that as his hand drew nearer, it seemed to react, enveloping him in light and sound and sensation...

And then he felt himself flying through space.

Several years ago, he was on a space station that literally ripped apart around him, leaving him in space without a suit, and surfing on a piece of debris into the atmosphere of a planet, before he was rescued by the Surefoot. This, however, made him feel like he was sailing at warp speed through deep space like the Surefoot itself.

And it was beautiful: stars and nebula and comets, and flashes of pulsars and quasars and anomalies he couldn't identify. He felt immensely tiny in comparison to the rest of the Universe... and yet, not insignificant. And unlike his earlier experience, he heard more than the pounding of his own blood in his body. He heard voices, and whispers, and murmurs and laughs and cries.

And he heard music: a guitar, a drum, and a countdown... it was his good friend David Bowie singing Space Oddity! It was like the Official Music of the Cosmos, matching the infinite majesty he felt both within and without.

And in the stars, he caught glimpses of planets and ships, of landscapes and babies and old people and animals. And he saw faces: more ephemeral than real, faces familiar and not, or familiar but older, more lined and worn than what he would have expected, memories that weren't his, that would never be his, flying by out of sequence.

Many faces. And none of them were his...

"Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles / I'm feeling very still..."

"Grandpa? Are you there? It's Hannah..."

"What are we, if not storytellers?"

"Nothing wrong with a little grey. It's distinguished... especially for this new role..."

"The Prime Directive has been rescinded for the duration of the crisis..."

"And I think my spaceship knows which way to go / Tell my wife I love her very much, she knows-"

"He'll love having a little sister to care for-"

"Do you, Lieutenant Jonas Ostrow, take this woman..."

"The Surefoot-B: a new ship, a new mission, a new era..."

But then he felt himself quickening, being tractored towards darker, more turbulent regions, no longer feeling in control, as the voices and the images rushing past him reflected the increasing turbulence.

"Ground Control to Major Tom / Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong-"

"Grandpa? Where are you?"

"The Cardassians have built a spatial catapult to propel their ships-"

"I'm sorry, Admiral, we've exhausted all the accepted therapies..."

"The Ferasans have allied with the Dominion! They're moving onto Cait!"

"Hrelle and his bastard clan have interfered with us for the last time..."

"Attention Starfleet! This is Captain Sasha Hrelle! We have engaged the Kelvins-"

"It is with profound sorrow that I must report the loss of two souls of infinite value..."

"THEY BROKE IT! THE CATS BROKE MY MOON!"

"Arm the Seven Hells-"

"No... losing my cub... losing my husband... please, I can't take any more-"

"Grandpa! I need you!"

"The Borg Republic are sending cubes to support us, but we don't know long-"

"Can you hear me, Major Tom?"

"I wanted so much for him to be here, on this day, to see me graduate... He gave me so much: love, laughter, support, encouragement, inspiration... and a baby brother...And now... now they're both gone... and I don't know how we -- how I -- can go on without them..."

"Can you hear me, Major Tom?"

"...death of Captain Esek Hrelle, and his young son Misha..."

"Can you hear me, Major Tom?"

"Grandpa...

...Where have the stars gone?"

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE...