Surefoot 88: Arcana

Moments later, she was far below the surface of the Capitol building, in a large bank of workstations, displays and operatives, some off-worlders but most Caitian, examining government, military and private communications networks for threats and trends.

Tarim Bey awaited her, sitting in his hoverchair to provide the male with mobility to compensate for his Neurodystraxic paraplegia, smiling. "First Minister, thank you for visiting the Dungeon, as my Syphers have begun calling it." He held out his arms. "I guess that makes me the Dungeonmaster."

Ma'Sala frowned. "I have little time and less desire to banter, Mr Bey. How did you manage to access my private channel?"

The male regarded her, before gesturing to a nearby office. "Please, First Minister; we will be unmonitored and undisturbed in there."

He glided into the room, which Ma'Sala determined was for his use, given the adaptations for Bey to move about and reach for things from his chair. The door slid shut, and a computer announced, "Security Measures Activated."

Bey turned to face her. "First Minister, I accessed your private comlink in the same way I monitored the conversation between yourself and your colleagues upstairs, but that is not as relevant as the reason for my wishing to speak privately with you."

Ma'Sala leaned in closer to him, baring her teeth. "I don't appreciate eavesdroppers."

He smiled, unintimidated. "Coming from the former Head of the Mother's Claws, that statement simply drips with irony. But I am certain you appreciate even less the response from your colleagues. Many a cub might dream of becoming First Minister someday, imagining the power they might yield, never understanding how little of it they will actually possess, with the checks and balances rightly in place.

I am on your side, Madame. And I can assemble and employ a select group of individuals to meet your needs."

"Individuals?"

He nodded. "Individuals with, shall we say, very particular sets of skills?" He activated a control on the arm of his chair, bringing up images on the walls behind him, of males and females, all felinoid... but not all Caitian. "Individuals of many different origins and sensibilities, but united to perform tasks that one cannot openly, or legally, acknowledge. I coined it a 'Caitian Crisis Counterteam'." He smirked. "I like alliteration. Perhaps it is better simply to refer to them as Adventurers."

Ma'Sala frowned at the images. A couple of them she recognised - Captain Nrari, that telepathic Ferasan Hunter Prime, Valtiri, and even the Hrelles' former nanny, the Sabrecat Lt Jhess Furore - but a couple more stood out on their own simply for their uniqueness... was that a Kzinti among them? And a cyborg as well? "You've given this some thought."

"Thought is a primary activity of mine, in lieu of rutting and running marathons. And as I have said, I can assemble and deploy this group, equip them with ships, weapons, resources, anything they might need to deal with any threats to Cait and Caitians that can't be officially and openly managed by the Militia, the Stellar Navy or even the Secret Services... and the most immediate threat is to the Hrelles. And I can do this without any direct accountability to you or your office."

She faced him now, tail twitching with suspicion. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

He looked up at her. "Because unlike your colleagues, I do place value on the service your family provided during the Occupation. And because I have contacts beyond what Commissioner Canri and her burgeoning new Secret Service operatives possess. And my contacts confirm that the Terran industrialist Max Zorin is behind the formation of the new Bel-Zon... and that Zorin's ultimate goal is the deaths of Commodore Hrelle and his family. Including your grandcubs. Even little Sreen Hrelle, who shares my disability." He breathed in. "And since the Occupation, I have found a need to make recompense for the sins of my past, in my own inimitable manner."

Ma'Sala grunted - there would be more to it; there is always more to it with this male, she had soon guessed after meeting him - and glanced back at the display. "And you can assure me that in the future your... Adventurers... won't be employed for strictly criminal ends?"

"If I can't, then the potential inclusion of the likes of Captain Nrari and Lt Furore certainly will. We will have honourable people in command, ensuring the integrity of the team." He folded his paws onto his lap. "Or... we can forget all about this as just a fanciful notion on my part."

She stared hard at him. All of this could come back on her; in fact, it almost certainly would, despite Tarim Bey's promises. How could it not, with this team going after the very same threats to her own family? Her involvement would be uncovered, she would face condemnation, impeachment, even criminal charges and imprisonment.

And she wouldn't contest it, either. Assuming of course that she would approve of this.

Thoughts returned to the time she employed the Omega Bomb to wipe out the next Ferasan Fleet readying to re-invade the Motherworld. Almost no one knew of her involvement in that, an immeasurably more serious and terrible act than what was being considered here... but at least she could justify those actions to defend her people.

This, however, gave her no justification. It would be seen for what it was, an abuse of her power. And rightly so.

Fuck it. "Do it "

He smiled. "Adventurers... Assemble."

*

Boladede stood in the centre of his cell. Waiting. Waiting. He could wait all day. He has more strength and discipline than anyone else around him, and would always rise above them, no matter what they choose to throw at him-

"Cadet?"

He looked up. Counselor Hrelle stood there, resting her weight on an antigrav cane held in her right paw. She regarded him, awaiting an answer.

"No longer 'Cadet', Counselor," he reminded her archly. "Thanks to you."

"Thanks to me? Perhaps I should apologise for allowing you to try and kill me?"

"Why are you here? Looking to see if there is any lingering damage to me caused by your savage little son?"

She bristled at his insult. "No, Mr Boladede... I came because I know it was explained to you that I did not visit you in your quarters the other night, that it was an imposter who spread lies in order to goad you into taking extreme actions. I was wondering if that news has made you reassess the wisdom of your subsequent actions. I was hoping that, with that revelation, you might be able to put yourself on the road to rehabilitation, that would better help you.

And maybe I was also hoping to help put myself on a similar road. I had nothing but the best of intentions in assisting you reach your full potential within Starfleet. Regardless of the provocation, what you did to me was unforgivable-"

He faced her. "I am not interested in hearing you continue to bleat. Leave me... but watch your back. You will never know when I will return to finish what I started, only I will also kill your beastly child."

Kami stared hard at him, before drawing closer to the invisible cell door between them, her voice low and forced through clenched, bared teeth. "Oh, but I will know, because I can smell and hear you coming from a kilometre away. And if you ever, ever return, you won't just face my son, or me, but my husband, one who has truly earned the moniker of Beast.

And you will not live long enough to regret your actions."

She turned to leave.

Across from Boladede, the only other occupant of a cell here, Latrelle, regarded her as he sat on his bunk and shuffled the deck in his hand. "No goodbye for me, Madame Chat?"

She never looked at him as she suggested, "Mets ta tête dans ton trou du cul..."

Latrelle chuckled shallowly as they were left alone, before he focused on the younger prisoner. "How easily one's fortune can change, eh, Monsieur?"

Boladede glared across at him. "I do not associate with criminals."

Latrelle laughed now, drawing individual cards from his deck. "Oh, dear boy, I don't need precognition to know how your immediate future will make that declaration very difficult to achieve!" He held up a card: The Hanged Man. "Not that you'll spend much time at a penal colony..."

Boladede frowned. "What do you know that I do not?"

"Oh, I know my employers... they might see potential in you, and offer you a place with them when they come for me."

The former cadet drew closer to the cell force field. "You believe they will liberate you?"

More wistfully now, he drew another card: Death. "No, Monsieur. With my sister dead, I am more of a liability than an asset to them now. My future is certain."

He let his cards scatter to the floor of his cell.

*

This was it, Rachel decided, standing outside the Superintendent's Office. She would have her bags packed within the hour, and be on the next transport home. There was no alternative, not after her failure at spotting the problems with Ange. As far as she was concerned, it was as if she had handed him the phaser to shoot the Counselor.

The door slid open, and Commander Haluk's voice reached out to her. "Enter, Squad Leader."

She obeyed, cursing herself for not rechecking her dress uniform before she was called in. She stood at attention before his desk. "Sir, Cadet Squad Leader Rachel Nash reporting as ordered."

The older Vulcan never looked up from his PADD as he responded, "At ease. Squad Leader, I wanted to inform you personally of the actions being taken following the expulsion of Cadet Boladede-"

"I'm ready to leave, Sir," she suddenly blurted out.

The interruption made Haluk look up at her now. "Excuse me, Squad Leader?"

Rachel swallowed, feeling her skin heat up like the surface of a star. What was wrong with her?

"Squad Leader?" he repeated, more forcefully.

She breathed deeply; in for a penny... "I- I said I am ready to leave, Sir. I can have my belongings packed in ten minutes."

He raised an eyebrow. "A laudable skill, Squad Leader. But your Academy schedule for the rest of the semester will hardly allow you to go anywhere."

Rachel swallowed again. "Sir?"

Now he rose to his feet and walked around to her. "I summoned you here to inform you of the replacement for Cadet Boladede as Macbeth Squad's Security Cadet. Her name is Lock Trythi, of Sancarus II; the planet is one of many on a fast-track process of Federation membership, initiated during the War when the need for securing territory was predominant. Ms Trythi is already on her way to Salem One, but you will have ample opportunity to learn about her, her people and their particular characteristics and needs, in order to brief your Squad and make her feel welcome. I have already sent an information pack to your Inbox."

Rachel nodded numbly. Cheese and Crackers, Rachel, could you have been more melodramatic?

"Will this be a problem, Squad Leader?" Haluk asked mildly.

"Wha- No! I mean, no, Sir! Sorry, I- I just feel... stupid."

"Indeed? And why is that?"

"Well, I... I came here thinking I was being removed from the program because of Ange's actions! I mean, if I had been alert enough to anticipate what he might have done-"

"Then you would possess greater skills than the rest of us, myself included. A desire to hold oneself responsible for the actions of those under us is commendable, but it is best not to get rapacious about it. Unless, of course, you disagree, and believe I should resign from my position here because of what happened?"

She flushed again. "No, Sir. I don't feel that stupid."

*

Hrelle stayed in the background of the Arboretum, the tranquil scents of the foliage not offering their usual calming influence on him, as he focused on the activities of the newcomers to Salem One.

The media that Zorin had brought with him, now joined by the station's resident correspondent Darren Kolchak, were surrounding the industrialist, as he stood on a dais alongside Federation Commissioner Ryo Nam-Seon, the young woman maintaining a composed presence - but then, Hrelle reminded himself, she wasn't totally aware of the danger that hrelle knew Zorin presented, even without any evidence.

Keeping his eyes on Zorin, he leaned in closer to Salvo, standing on his right. "Double check."

The Nova Roman made a sound. "I have done so already, Commodore. No weapons, no contraband. It corroborates Captain Arrington's own Security report."

He nodded towards Zorin's bodyguard, a hulking humanoid male in a tight-fitting old-fashioned mourning suit and an almost comical bowler hat, like some character from an ancient English drawing room comedy. "What about Man Mountain there?"

"Nothing... but the bioscans picked up some strange readings from him, some levels of genetic and cybernetic enhancement. He's listed on the Moonraker's records provided to us only as a 'Mister Uberman', an 'odd job man'."

"And we're still on Full Alert?"

Salvo made another sound, prompting Sternhagen, on Hrelle's left, to comment, "If we weren't, Esek, you'd be the first to know. Don't worry, we have all eyes on Zorin and his party while they're here, and once the publicity bullshit is over, we'll escort them back to the airlock and Lucille can take them to meet the ship coming for them."

Their attention was drawn back to Zorin, who signalled to one of the twin blonde women acting as his personal assistants, who activated a holographic device, presenting an image of a starfield overhead, and a ring-shaped array in the centre. "And here you go, what you've all been waiting to see! Zorin Interstellar is honoured to present... the Ballista, what will certainly be the next step in transport and shipping for the Quadrant for generations to come!"

It triggered a flurry of increased interest among the correspondents... and in Hrelle. So that was what Zorin's people were working on in his sector.

And Zorin lapped up the interest, as he continued. "Our engineers have perfected a means of catapulting ships and even cargo containers into a level of subspace called Null Space, a region which bypasses many of the energy and stressor limitations of normal high-warp travel.

What will this mean in practical terms? Many of you travelled with me from Starbase One to this sector; it took us two weeks... and that's not even taking into account the frequent stops that self-indulgent types like myself always demand." He paused while the small crowd responded with amusement. "But with the Ballista, that same journey could be accomplished in... two hours."

He paused again, before accepting some questions from the group. In the rear, Hrelle frowned. "Could it be true? Could something like that work?"

Sternhagen shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought so, but then I would have laughed at that quantum slipstream and transwarp drives that's been mentioned being developed. It'll be years before it passes all the required tests, but when it does, Zorin will be making more money than God."

And we may all be having Max Zorin to thank for getting us around the Galaxy quicker, he mused. Assuming I don't end up killing you first.

"It's a shame," Zorin himself continued. "That our first visit here must be short, but I do hope that this will not be our last visit here. But before we adjourn to the al-Razi, I wanted to get to the real reason I insisted on our coming here: to thank the Starfleet officer responsible for the safety and security of this sector, and everyone and everything within it." He raised a hand towards the rear of the Arboretum. "Commodore Esek Hrelle, could you do us the honour of joining me up here, please?"

Hrelle started, as all eyes and recording devices turned to him. His hackles rose, but he steeled himself as he started forward, Sternhagen whispering to him, "Try not to maul him in front of the cameras."

He growled under his breath as he continued onward, ignoring everything else around him while keeping his eyes on Zorin, the man responsible for so much of the recent death and carnage in his new home. Closer now on the dais, he took in Zorin's scent, smelled the genetic enhancements the man kept hidden from the public at large... and imagined smelling the psychosis behind the eyes as well.

Zorin, however, acted in full control of the proceedings, continuing to speak to the crowd. "Commodore Hrelle, I must admit to having a keen interest in meeting you in the flesh."

Hrelle narrowed his gaze. "Should I be flattered or worried?"

Zorin offered a shallow laugh. "Flattered, I promise! You have an exceptional career behind you, a veteran commanding officer responsible for saving thousands of lives during the Dominion War, not to mention your achievements in saving your homeworld. And now you're here, at the edge of the Federation borders, ensuring that any threats from the Kzinti, the Orions and who knows what else are kept at bay.

I deeply regret the criminal actions taken by renegade members of my corporation involved in the Alkemy Project at Ucarru Major, and I wanted to declare publicly that from this day forward, there will be a new relationship between Zorin Interstellar and Starfleet."

His expression shifted, grew more serious as he drew closer. "Commodore, upon our arrival here, I was made aware of a heinous attack on your wife, in your own home, by one of your own cadets. It drives home how precarious your lives are out here... and I wish you all the best."

He held out his hand.

The attention from the media seemed to jump exponentially.

Hrelle felt the seconds stretch out to infinity.

Hrelle stepped forward and reached out his own paw.

They clasped.

He felt the hot iron strength, far greater than an ordinary human, beneath the skin.

The grip tightened, almost painfully.

Then Zorin suddenly leaned in closer, his mouth turned away from everyone's view, as he whispered, "When I come back, I'll disembowel your cunt wife personally, before I rape your daughter and skin your other kids alive."

Hrelle froze.

And for a heartbeat, imagined tearing into Zorin's throat, in front of everyone around the consequences.

Instead, he leaned back in, bared his teeth and growled in return, "Bring friends. A lot of them."

Zorin kept smiling.

*

Zorin kept smiling as he and his party were escorted back to the al-Razi and her on their way. He kept smiling as he was left alone in his guest quarters with his personal assistants Dawn and Dusk Bauer, and his new bodyguard. He still held his open right hand away from his body as he ordered, "Scan."

Uberman withdrew a scanner and moved quickly around the quarters, before reporting, "No monitors."

He sat down at the room's desk and rested his right hand, palm side upwards. "Get it off me."

Dusk produced the concealed medikit from among the belongings taken from the Disco Volante, setting the equipment out. "It's okay, Mr Zorin; Dr Orlok assured that the virus was tailored for Commodore Hrelle's genetic signature, and won't affect you or anyone else."

Zorin grunted. "I'm not afraid; I simply don't want any evidence left behind here to help him, or point back to us." He looked up to see the twins exchange glances. "If you keep employing your telepathy in my presence, I'll have one of you lobotomised."

They looked away, Dusk focusing on carefully removing the nanoderm patch on Zorin's right palm, the patch containing Orlok's latest creation, activating and transmitting to Hrelle when they shook hands - or is it hand and paw?

Zorin smirked to himself; he supposed it wouldn't matter over the next couple of days. He knew there were safer ways to deliver the virus to Hrelle, but none more satisfying to Zorin, having the opportunity to meet him face to face.