Surefoot 81: Murderers' Row

Kazan ignored him, checking the time - Good, good - as he continued. "And it was fortunate for you that you did, given your homeworld was destroyed while trying to conquer your cousin race the Caitians last year. But what have you done since signing up with the Cabal here? Hanging around this place like some trophy, growing soft? Letting yourself be pawed by your boss? You can do better. Much better."

"Hey!" Vance repeated, his face reddening. "What did I just say?"

"And if it helps, we'll be targeting the Caitians responsible for your people's humiliation." He looked at Vance again. "And we'll be willing to buy her out of her contract with the Cabal... with a generous personal bonus to you for your inconvenience."

"How magnanimous of you, Arkady. Allow me to make a counter proposal." Vance shoved away the nude woman on his left to lean to one side and look behind the visitors. "Nixx! Cut these two up into pieces no bigger than your right tit, and then flush the pieces into the Bay!"

Kazan tensed, reaching for the hidden energy weapons in the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket.

Wölfin was less reserved, bellowing, "BLITZKRIEG!" before spinning and attacking the guards behind her with her bare hands, taking point blank disruptor bolts without stopping.

Kazan drew out his miniature phasers, ducking and firing at the Nausicaan on Vance's left, before turning at closer targets behind him, aware of the limited number of shots he'd have-

He was caught by a punch across the jaw from Nixx, making him stagger. Blindly he raised one of his phasers in her direction-

Only to feel himself shoved roughly out of the way, as he heard a snarl and felt the black-furred frame of Jet Jaguar leap past him to pounce on Nixx, claws extended to strike at the Bolian's head and throat, making purple blood spray.

Kazan looked past her to Wölfin, who was breaking limbs with a cackle drowned out by the screams of her victims, before finally stopping, ignoring how her clothes were smouldering from disruptor fire.

Now he focused back on Vance, aiming his phaser towards him- only to see the fat man ignore the battle before him, too busy was he squealing and crawling away in panic with his women, as rats swarmed up from nowhere over them.

One rat drew up to Kazan's feet, offering a salute with his tiny forepaw. "Kapitan! We found the casino vault just where you said it would be, and disabled the security fields around it!"

"Thank you, Ben." He touched one of the buttons on his jacket sleeve and brought it to his mouth. "This is Kazan - beam up the contents of the vault, and then stand by for us to follow." Good luck explaining to the Cabal what happened to their profits, Vance... He looked at Jet. "Madame, may I assume from your actions that you accept our offer?"

The Ferasan stood up over the body of Nixx, spitting out traces of caustic Bolian flesh and blood, looking between the human and the rat. "You were really here to rob the casino?"

"No, we were really here to recruit you. But Vance's stubbornness cost me much years ago, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity for recovery... and revenge. You did not answer my question."

"The Caitians you mentioned... is Starfleet Captain Esek Hrelle among them?"

"He is a Commodore now, but yes, he remains our chief target. But I promise great profit as well. "

Jet bared gleaming white teeth. "I left my world, my race, to prove I was superior to any male. I do not care for profit. Defeating Hrelle and making a rug out of him will satisfy me."

Ben reached out and tugged at the right leg of Kazan's trousers. "I call dibs on her share."

*

Secarus System:

Fantomax was in the cockpit of her ship, rechecking the recent communication updates, when Parker announced, "M'Lady, Master Julian is just outside the Cockpit. He insists on speaking with you."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Let him in."

"Are you certain, M'Lady? I could beam him back into his cabin. Or into the warp core. Accidentally."

She allowed the corner of her mouth to curl. Her computer had evolved enough over the years to reflect her subconscious moods... not that anyone would blame her, if they had to spend enough time with Young Mr Zorin. "Not just yet. Let him in."

"Yes, M'Lady."

She heard the door slide open, and braced herself for the inevitable invasion of her personal space... Julian clamped his hand on her shoulder as if for support. "Hey there."

She never looked up at him. "Can I help you, Mr Zorin?"

The man leaned down and forward, peering closer at the image of the planet below, as if it was an actual window instead of a viewscreen. "Where are we, Granny?"

"It's called Secarus IV, a Class-M world near the Klingon border."

"Never heard of it. What's so special about it?"

"It has no extradition treaty with any galactic power."

"And we're here to collect someone living down there?"

"No, we're here to collect the imminent assassin of someone living down there."

Julian blew out a bored breath, and slumped into an adjacent seat, spinning it around like a child. "Entertain me, Granny."

Fantomax ground her teeth silently. "I'm afraid that's beyond my abilities or interest, Mr Zorin. Why not pester Dr Orlok?"

"I tried, but she threatened to infect me with something called Tarellian Plague."

"I did warn you."

"Perhaps Master Julian would care to take a spacewalk?" Parker suggested.

He looked up at the cockpit ceiling. "Spacesuits make me claustrophobic."

"You could always try it without one?"

Julian frowned... then chuckled. "Cute." Then he turned towards Fantomax, cupping his crotch as he leered at her. "Come on, Granny: drop your drawers and bend over, I'll make it worth your while."

"How dare you?" Parker exclaimed. "You disgusting-"

Fantomax raised a hand to cut her computer off, fixing a glare on the young man. "What were you doing all the way out on Ardana?"

Julian leaned back in the chair, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Father wanted me to prove myself, to go out with a small start-up fund and see what I can do with it."

"And what did you do with it?"

"I had a hell of a time with it, on Risa, Argelius, Pacifica, Cascara, and finally Ardana." He grinned.

She didn't, staring back at him with undisguised disdain. "Everyone knows Max Zorin's story, knows of his enormous successes and unmatched business acumen. He no doubt wanted to nurture those same skills in you by sending you out into the Galaxy to make your own fortune."

He shrugged, but with an insouciance that seemed more forced than natural. "Well, even the Great and Mighty Max Zorin has to learn that some people are good at making money, others are good at spending other people's money. He'll save more in the long run by giving me a cushy position closer to him and the family fortune, instead of sending me off on some idiotic Manhood Quest."

She made a sound in response.

He leaned closer to her. "You think I'm a piece of shit, don't you?"

"Yes," Parker answered immediately.

"I wasn't asking you!" He fixed his bitter glower on her fully. "Yeah, you're not alone with that attitude. I've heard the comparisons my whole life... and my whole life, I've never been able to measure up to him.

But what you and everyone else in the Galaxy keeps forgetting is that I'm Max Zorin's only living relative. When he dies, it all comes to me. Then you and everyone else in the Galaxy will be on your knees in front of me, literally and otherwise."

She regarded him for a moment, then said aloud, "Parker, unlock the drinks cabinet in the Wardroom. Make available to our guest the last Dionysus 2338."

"M'Lady, no! You can't!"

"Do it." She leaned forward, mirroring his pose and expression. "One of the finest, most expensive libations in my collection. It was pressed on Platonius, banned from export because the kironide contamination from the native soil creates powerful hallucinogenic experiences, and occasionally bursts of psychokinesis. Indulge yourself."

Julian looked at her in a new light, before chuckling, reaching up and patting her on the cheek. "Now you're beginning to understand, Granny." He returned to his feet. "And to be honest, that'll probably be a lot more satisfying than sticking my piece in your ass."

"A sentiment I can't help but share wholeheartedly, Mr Zorin." She waved him off to the exit.

The door barely slid shut on his departure when Parker cursed.

Despite her lingering disgust at her encounter with young Zorin, she looked up and smiled. "Parker! Where did you learn such profanity?"

"From you, M'Lady. During that theft of the Dagger of the Dohlman of Elas."

She faced the front again, returning to the communication monitoring. "Ah, yes, I remember it well."

"I can't believe you wasted the Platonius wine on that disgusting libertine."

"It's not wasted if it keeps him away from me. And the potency of that particular potable will hopefully keep him in his cabin for an extended period of time. And maybe induce some ill effects."

"And I'll ask Dr Orlok if she can spare some of that Tarellian Plague. Shall I contact Ms Obscura and see if she is ready to join us?"

"Make no contact. Not while she's in the middle of her assignment. But monitor directly, in case she needs a quick beam out." She regarded the image of the planet, curious about this latest addition. From what she had read about her, even Fantomax might learn a few things.

*

In an isolated section of the planet below, in a lush high-walled estate protected by electronic sensors and Betazoid mercenaries whose telepathy was attuned for intruders, a figure in loose white robes and cowl silently climbed the wall and landed on the other side.

If the sensors or the guards had detected the intruder, they would have seen a young, coffee-skinned humanoid female with strong blue eyes and cheekbones and darker lips. A closer scrutiny might have seen the small arsenal in view and hidden about her person, all composed of kelbonite ceramics and other materials invisible to most sensors.

If the guards had seen her, and tried to probe her mind, they would have heard... nothing.

Deep within Kamra Obscura, she maintained the mantra that allowed her to evade detection:

I am Sand

I am unbroken by heat or wind

Unstruck by tower or temple

I am endless, unbounded, eternal

I am undulating as waves upon a frozen sea

Conjoining the sky in a coppered haze

I am Tireless

I am Eternal

I am Everywhere

I am a part of everything around me

Within and without

Invisible

Invisible

Invisible

She kept low as she moved across the manicured gardens, past statues and fountains and elegant-looking, beautifully-plumed birds stripped of their ability to fly away and kept as living ornaments. It was literally a world of difference to the Artegy Deserts on Tandar Prime where Kamra had been born and raised among the Unseen, and had honed her special talents.

She reached the main structure, a luxury apartment building where those with the money could reside in seclusion, her mind still wrapped within a heightened state of consciousness, her body pressing against the wall near a closed set of doors on the veranda, as she looked out at the farthest parapet, six hundred and fifty-three metres distant by her eye, and without taking her view away, reached into the folds and pockets on her person, quickly assembling her rifle, raising it up in her arms.

There was a multispectral telescopic sight, allowing her to pinpoint her target: the power coupling. She sensed when the time was right, and fired a silent, gas-propelled needle that struck the coupling, shorting out the local power.

It was dusk in this part of the world, when natural visibility was at its most vulnerable, and the spotlights they expected to switch at this time at that part of the estate now failed.

And, as expected, guards moved away from their assigned places elsewhere to investigate and compensate, granting Kamra more flexibility to enter the main building.

It was dark within, empty, the staff having retired for the evening or left the property altogether, allowing her to walk along in shadow, disassembling her rifle and securing the pieces once more, not needing it within the confines of the building.

Her quarry was on the sixth floor, the top floor, and she quickly, silently ascended, avoiding the occasional camera and sensor nest, ignoring the sounds of revelry she picked up on the lower floors. There were no guards within, at least as far as she could sense-

Bitch. Dirty bitch.

Kamra stopped in place on the top floor, reinforcing her mental camouflage, before she realised the telepathic words weren't directed at her.

She moved more quickly along the tiled corridor to the quarry's apartment.

You like it, don't you, naughty little bitch? You love it when Daddy punishes you-

She tried the door, found it locked, and withdrew a sonic lockpick, entering the darkened apartment and heading for the bedroom, her instincts taking in the layout - square, four by six metres, doors to closet and bathroom, balcony overlooking western side of the building - and the furniture and the possibility for offensive and defensive potential.

Even as her attention focused on the two occupants: a young red-haired humanoid woman wearing next to nothing, on her knees on the floor, clutching her head in obvious pain, and the older Betazoid man in rich silk nightwear standing over her, so focused on the young woman that he didn't even notice the intruder.

Not until she rushed up to him and struck his chest with her extended fingers, sending him backwards towards the corner of the room, sliding on a loose thin woven carpet near the balcony.

She turned and knelt beside the woman, examining her, seeing her begin to recover, as if emerging from a deep sleep, looking confused. Kamra brought her finger to her lips, whispering, "Leave, find a place to hide, don't sound any alarms."

The woman's eyes widened, still seeming perplexed, but nodded and helped herself to her feet and scurried out. Kamra rose as well and locked the bedroom door; despite her entreaties, she expected the guards outside to potentially hear the troubled thoughts and investigate. There wouldn't be much time.

She didn't need it. As she approached him, the Betazoid man was coughing and sputtering from her assault. "Y-You- You- You can't do this-"

"Mr Idolal," she said aloud, "Normally I would have preferred to kill you from a distance and spare myself the toxic contamination of your proximity, but my clients - your victims - wanted me to deliver their message to you face to face."

He looked up... and she saw his attempt to telepathically call for help, and used her own abilities to suppress his, leaving him to spurt aloud, "Do you- Do you know who I am?"

"I know who you were: Nosus Idolal, one of Betazed's most successful and beloved performers: actor, singer, comedian, raconteur, host.

Predator.

For decades you entertained millions, were courted by the rich and powerful. And for decades you used your celebrity to abuse so many of your fans, inflicting telepathic rape that left your victims in an amnesiac state and not even aware of what had happened to them until years later.

And when your crimes were finally brought to life, you used your wealth to escape prosecution, and migrate to this planet, where you hoped you would spend the rest of your life here, free of retribution."

Kamra began reaching for her equipment belt, assembling a smaller, more compact weapon than her rifle. "Your victims, the ones who pooled their savings to hire me, wanted you to know that your hope is only partly true.

She attached the barrel, fitted it expertly. "There will be retribution."

Idolal's black eyes widened at the sight of the pistol, sweat beading down his wrinkled face. "N-No-"

"But," she concluded, raising the barrel of the weapon to his forehead. "You will spend the rest of your life here."

He raised his open hand to the pistol, as if it would protect him.

It didn't. The bullet pierced the palm of his hand, continuing unabated into his forehead and through his skull, boiling the contents until she heard bone crackle inside the scalp from the heat, the skin and hair began to smoulder, and the eyes cooked and liquified.

Kamra took in the kill, though she took no particular pleasure out of it, knowing that it wasn't over yet. Her abilities, and her choice of ammunition, ensured an instant death with no telepathic alert, but she was still pushing her luck-

Sounds from within and without made her pocket her pistol and rush to the balcony, carefully glancing out to see the guards on the grounds. There was an anti-transporter field in the building. She would have to fight, even kill to get out-

No. She was not like that. She was of the Unseen. Killing was never meant to be arbitrary. Her choice of victims had to be deserving, not people just doing their jobs.

She touched her communicator. "Are you still there?"

The voice of the computer of the ship that was collecting her for her next assignment responded in her earbud. "Yes, Ms Obscura, but there is a transporter disruptor in your immediate proximity."

Behind her, fists pounded on the bedroom door. She stared ahead, at the open balcony. "I am aware. Please stand by to collect me at your earliest convenience. I will be moving quickly to get away from the influence of the disruption."

"Of course, Ms Obscura. We are standing by."

An energy blast blew out the bedroom door lock.

Kamra ignored it, racing forward, towards the balcony, the railing, just over a metre high. She grabbed a chair along the way, throwing it ahead of her. It struck the railing, falling to its side, giving her a stepping stone as she leapt up, her boot touching the rail and allowing her to propel herself into the air.

She arced forward, arms extended, her robes opening like wings, while twenty metres below, the guards froze, but only for a heartbeat, before raising their weapons to fire upwards.

Bolts struck her robes, catching fire. She kept calm, her mind open.

I am Sand

I am unbroken by heat or wind

Unstruck by tower or temple

I am endless, unbounded, eternal-

A transporter beam enveloped her before she struck the ground.

*

Minos:

Surinh Dag raised the plasma cannon up as he scanned the horizon - such as it was. He had read the stolen reports from Starfleet about this place: centuries before, the Minosians were a thriving, technologically-advanced humanoid civilisation, who gained notoriety as arms merchants during the Ersalrope Wars in the Lorenz Cluster, providing advanced weaponry to both sides.

When Starfleet visited here 15 years before, they found the place devoid of intelligent life, thanks to one of the Minosians' surviving weapons systems. The Starfleeters shut off the weapon, examined what was there and left the planet to the elements, and some token quarantine marker buoys in orbit.

He grunted. Typical: a little more scrutiny, a little more patience, and they might have found weapons and systems that could have been exploited by them in their engagements with the Borg and the Dominion, and not suffered such losses as they had.

On the other hand, those losses left gaps in Federation security that his own people exploited... "Shipmaster?"

Nesac Sur left the collection of their fellow Orions to approach. "We found the remains of the previous party. Literally: charred bone and ash. A plasma-type weapon." He kept looking up over the tops of the surrounding trees.