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The Sign at the Crossroads (a masterverse novel)
sander233
Member Posts: 3,992 Arc User
It is though God
By command
Has withdrawn
Every.
Other.
Throne.
And God is saying:
"NO.
These People will deal with YOU
ALONE."
Mike Hranica of The Devil Wears Prada - "Kansas"
P R E A M B L E :
E V E RY . O T H E R . T H R O N E
Office of the Federation Foreign Minister, Paris, Earth - 2412.07.07.0103
One of the things Ryoko Hibiki really did not like about her job, was being in Paris put her nine hours ahead of San Francisco. This meant it was usually well after midnight when the Council finished voting on anything that really mattered. This further meant that on nights like tonight, she had to stay up way too late to get some really bad news.
Ryoko snarled at the terminal on her desk, which was showing the final outcome on the Council vote to re-annex the Moab Confederacy. It could be worse. The measure could have passed. But being deadlocked for thirty days was nearly as bad.
The whole situation flew in the face of the Federation morals she had sworn to uphold. Creating the sort of Maquis situation that had driven the Moab colonies to break away in the first place and side with the Klingons had been bad enough. The treaty Admiral LaRoca had brokered had at least defused the possibility of hostilities. But then revoking the treaty and declaring the Moab government to be a 'terrorist state' over what amounted to a border misunderstanding, that was an outrage she had no words for.
Well, Admiral LaRoca was coming back to Earth soon - hopefully she'd be able to arrange a meeting with him, and together they could figure something out.
Something that did not involve Moab being brought back into the Federation by force, which is the way it looked like things were going.
She tried not to imagine that possibility as she typed out a message to transmit on LaRoca's diplomatic channel...
USS Tiburon, Cardassian Space
"Mierda!" Vice Admiral Jesus L. LaRoca slapped the PADD down on his desk, hard enough to break it if it was Starfleet standard issue. But it wasn't. The hardened casing took the punishment, and the screen still displayed the latest dispatch from the Foreign Minister, oblivious to the anger it had evoked in the recipient.
Jesu glared at the device for a moment. Rusted, grimy wheels were turning in his head as the diplomat in him woke up. He tapped his combadge. "Commander Hamlin, please report to my ready room. Rusty, Hank, I'd like to see you guys as well." He swiveled his chair and watched his pet leopard shark swim in playful circles.
The door hissed open, and closed again, and the Admiral didn't hear anyone come in. "Take a seat, Rusty. It's about what's on that PADD."
The door opened again, and this time Admiral LaRoca turned to face it as Lieutenant Commander H'mL'n walked in, followed by his intelligence advisor, Hank Miller. "Sit down, guys." He waved to a pair of empty chairs on either side of his brother.
"I don't get it," Rusty said, tapping the PADD against one that Miller produced before passing it to H'mL'n. "The vote didn't pass, and we've got the thirty days to get there and change people's minds. What are you so worried about?"
"What worries me is Pentaxia," Jesu stated.
"What about us?" H'mL'n wondered.
"First of all, know that what we discuss here does not leave this room," Jesu said, looking at H'mL'n. "Hooper will enact lockdown protocols if anyone attempts to share what am I about to tell you off the ship. Can I trust you with this, Hamlin?"
"So long as it does not put me in a compromising position with my government," H'mL'n told him.
Jesu sighed. "Explain the situation to her, Rusty. You're better with Pentaxian names than I am."
"It's like this, H'mL'n: two weeks ago, Empress Ch'K'rr suddenly died, and V'sh'K'rr, her daughter, assumed the throne."
"I am aware of that," H'mL'n said impassively.
"Ch'K'rr offered a peace treaty to the Moab Confederacy - the one the Moab government rather controversially accepted," Rusty went on. "Did you look over the terms of this treaty?"
"I did. They were uncharacteristically lenient," H'mL'n remarked. "What does this have to do with my loyalty?"
"We're getting to that," Jesu said. "A lot has changed in a short time since war broke out between your people and Moab. Both heads of state died before a peace was struck. The terms of the peace treaty are illegal under the Moab Constitution, but then new Moab Prime Minister, uh..." he looked to Hank Miller.
"Kate Mulvaney."
"Right. She pushed it through anyway. And now your new Empress... Rust?"
"V'sh'K'rr."
"She's letting the Federation enforce the peace." Jesu LaRoca got up from his desk. "The Federation, which has effectively revoked Moab's claim to independence and now classifies them as a 'rogue state' - they have deployed a Starfleet blockade on the Moab System and are basically putting a gun to the Confederacy's head."
"Cold Butte, Arluna, and Berun's World too," Miller added. "All the Confederacy worlds are under the same blockade order, even the new additions."
"Right, thanks Hacksaw." Jesu took a moment to remember where he was going with this. "Now your Empress has moved that they be re-annexed by the Federation and disarmed again." He looked at something on his weapons display. "Do you see what a difficult situation this puts me in, Hamlin?"
"Cancelling the treaty you brokered over a point of political convenience is reprehensible, but not technically illegal if approved by a two-thirds majority of the Federation Council-"
"It wasn't," Jesu and Rusty said together.
"-So I'd say you have good grounds to argue for a repeal of that court ruling when we return to Earth," H'mL'n figured. "But if the Federation decides against you, you are still a Starfleet officer, sworn to abide by the Council's ruling. I don't understand the problem."
Jesu reached out and stroked the barrel of his Desert Eagle. "It's a problem, because I made a promise that this. Wouldn't. Happen."
Rusty sighed, "Trung, Hamlin," he said, gauging her reaction to the name. "How honorable would it be, for us to let him end up in the books as crazy terrorist bomber? Because that's what letting this happen means... and it means all those guys that just helped us save the quadrant, including Pentaxia, are criminals and terrorists too... What do you think?"
H'mL'n was silent for a long minute. "I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted at last. "I thought it was a simple matter of making recompense over a property line dispute..."
"The guys pushing this, they are thinking like that, Hamlin," Rusty said. "They're going to drag our friends... OUR friends... through the mud, they're going to punish these people for what they did helping us."
"It's worse than that," Jesu told them. "What was in that peace offering? What did your Empress ask - no, demand of the Moab Confederacy before she considered the conflict settled?" He walked back toward his desk, but did not sit. Instead he leaned with his back to it and watched Rudyard swim. "What was it that the Moabites are unwilling to give up?"
"I don't know," H'mL'n said. "The terms seemed reasonable to me... generous even."
"Rusty, find the treaty in my PADD under file heading Copperhead."
Rusty took the device and tapped it for a moment. "Got it."
"H'mL'n, look at that treaty and think hard about all the people you've met from that place in the last sixteen months. Try to think like they do and see what they are being forced to surrender. It is something they treasure, something the Federation thinks they can do without, and something the Empress is trying to take from them to humiliate them."
H'mL'n looked over each point of the treaty again with a new perspective, looking at through a Moabite's eyes. And it clicked. "Freedom."
"And if she doesn't get it?" the Admiral asked.
"Then she'll let the Federation force it from them," H'mL'n figured. "She's playing by your rules now."
"The Federation doesn't understand Freedom," Jesu told her. "Oh, they understand the clinical definition, and that's what they say they uphold, but they don't know how it feels. Because none of the people in it have ever really been free. They're like Rudyard - happy to swim in their tanks, because they've never seen the ocean.
"The Ocean is scary and dangerous. But that's where the people of Moab have have decided to swim. That's what they were born to. That's what they know. And they have become one of the scariest and most dangerous things in that ocean out there. Now the Federation wants to take them from their ocean and put them into a little tank. Do you know what happens when you take a full-grown great white shark from the ocean and place it in captivity?"
"Uh, no?"
"It dies," Jesu turned around and told her. "It doesn't eat, it doesn't swim. It sinks to the bottom of its tank and dies. That is what will happen to the people of Moab if your Empress has her way with them."
H'mL'n slowly nodded. "I understand. So how do we stop her?"
"You're sure you want to side with me on this?" he asked. "Once we go down this road there will be no turning back."
Lt. Cmdr. H'mL'n reached up to her uniform collar and removed her Pentaxian Dynasty pin. "I'm with you, sir. How do we stop the b*tch from killing our friends?"
* * * The sequel to The Road to Ruin * * *
T H E . S I G N . A T . T H E . C R O S S R O A D S
* * * will continue... * * *
T H E . S I G N . A T . T H E . C R O S S R O A D S
* * * will continue... * * *
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
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At this point there's basically no way Quinndine can get out in one piece. If Rusty gets to him, he'll be in pieces and Rusty will look very, very badass. If Three realizes he's not Quinn and he's been f*cking with her, she'll disassemble him. If pretty much anybody else gets to him, he'll have a hole in his head and/or an eternity sentence at facility 4028.
Do continue!
BTW, Sander, do you know which story has the details on how Huntington went from regular Federation officer to pawn of the wannabe galactic overlords?
The rest of the story will pick up once we close out "Season 2: Faces in the Flames"
I've called this a sequel to "The Road to Ruin" because here we will be dealing with the consequences of the commitments Jesu LaRoca made at the end of that story as we continue the overall masterverse plot. Also it's a continuation of several themes I first explored in that novel-length story.
This is also running parallel to the events on Moab in "Come the Fall, a Change" by patrickngo and events on Pentaxia in "Days of Fear and Wonder" by marcusdkane. This story will focus on events on Earth.
The title "The Sign at the Crossroads" is a reference to a conversation found in "Faces in the Flames" Episode 8.5
Special thanks to my collaborators for this story: knightraider6, patrickngo, and takeshi6 with input from gulberat and marcusdkane.
Even more special thanks to all the fans of this little epic fanfic series we've churned out. :cool:
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Hold off the speculations for now. I haven't even gotten the boys back to Earth yet. :cool:
The Chase (Season 1) has most of Huntington's background laced throughout but the short answer is, he got assimilated at Vega, liberated at Defera, and then he met an Orion matron and he decided that the "Good Masters" would be better overlords than the Borg.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
(I would also note that the 77th has a strong tendency to go it alone, as well...)
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
Proudly F2P. Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
I think there will be a lot of people wanting Quindine's head-maybe they can hold a raffle or something for charity
As for Huntington, at least in 2402 he was still a nice guy, as seen in the short backstory I did.
"he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."
/subscribe
They could make it a society function, Three could wear her best TRIBBLE gear and bid with severed heads of people who got in her way...
Actually, if it comes down to multiple people finding out at the same time, better to have Jesu take care of the dirtbag, then throw him to Three and watch the carnage. Because sometimes a little psychosis is entertaining.
(However, Quinn's support was important to Grunt making it as far as he did, which would be inconsistent with an Undine plot, so...)
You know, you're starting to tempt me... but I've got a lot on my plate already.
Close the door, put out the light
No, they won't be home tonight
The snow falls hard and don't you know?
The winds of Thor are blowing cold
They're wearing steel that's bright and true
They carry news that must get through
They choose the path where no one goes
They hold no quarter
They hold no quarter
Walking side by side with death
The devil marks their every step
The snow drives back the foot that's slow
The dogs of doom are howling "more"
They carry news that must get through
To build a dream for me and you
Aww, oh
They choose the path where no one goes
They hold no quarter
They ask no quarter
They hold no quarter
They ask no quarter...
(The pain, the pain without quarter)
They ask no quarter
(Without quarter, quarter)
Leaving no quarter
(The dogs of doom are howling "more")
Leaving no quarter
(I hear the dogs of doom are howling "more")
Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin - "No Quarter"
P A R T. O N E :
T H E . P A T H . W H E R E . N O . O N E . G O E S
Runabout Zambezi
Approaching Starfleet HQ (Presidio) Shuttleport, San Francisco, Earth
2412.07.16.0847
"Clearance finally came through," Rusty announced from the helm.
"Finally," his brother grumbled from the seat behind him. Jesu had been fuming throughout the often-delayed trip back from Cardassian space, and every message he received seemed to turn his mood darker.
The last one reported widespread rioting in Nha Tranh, the recently rebuilt capital city of Moab III and the Confederacy.
Rusty eased the runabout into a gentle landing on the designated shuttlepad, shut it down and opened the hatch. The cold morning fog rolled in. "I've always hated this city."
"Me too." Jesu stepped out and his brother followed, carrying the heavier bags over to Jesu's hovercar. "But this is our battlefield now."
Rusty silently stared at the gloomy streets as the late-model BMW wafted down Lincoln Blvd. Jesu drove at the speed limit the short distance to the exclusive Seacliff neighborhood, where he had a house overlooking China Beach. "Are we gonna be holding all of your meetings here?" Rusty asked once they were inside and unpacking.
"Not all of them," Jesu answered. "Hacksaw's bringing the DABO table around later tonight, but this place isn't big enough - or secure enough - to hold Ryoko and all my friends on the Council. But Marq knows a place. He got me a membership at a place called The Pyramid Club."
"I've heard of it," Rusty said. Actually, he'd been there before. Marq had secured a reservation for him and Georgia last year. "It's a really classy place. I don't have any nice clothes here..."
"How classy?"
Rusty checked his brother's closet and pulled out his most expensive suit. "This might not get you thrown out..."
"Okay, we'll go shopping. Uh... Maybe we can get you something tailored in time-"
"I've got nicer clothes at papa's house," Rusty mentioned.
Jesu sighed. "I really don't want to get papa involved in this... But it's peak season for big fish - he probably won't be there..."
"C'mon, Zoo. We can breathe warm air again and get lunch at Bandidos."
That sold it. "Okay, you're on."
A six-block walk and a quick public transporter hop had them basking in the late-morning sun on the shore of the Sea of Cortez. "Now this more like it," Jesu agreed, removing his jacket. The brothers walked at a leisurely pace down the hill, away from the town, and down the private road that led to their hacienda.
The front door was locked. "Hey, papi!" Jesu called out as he knocked.
"I just checked the garage," Rusty reported, coming around the side of the house. "The Benz is gone."
"Why would he take the Benz?" Jesu wondered. "He only drives that car when he's out of town, or heading to a wedding or funeral or something."
"Dunno." Rusty produced a key from his pocket unlocked the front door and led the way in. "Do you want me to grab any of your stuff?"
"I don't have much here," Jesu said. He hadn't actually spent a night in this house in almost three years. "All of my clothes and things are either on the Tiburon or at my place."
"You've got some old books back here," Rusty called from their room. "Orson Scott Card, David Weber..."
"Kid stuff," Jesu said dismissively, as he checked papa's office for clues. He reconsidered a moment. "You know what, Go ahead and grab the Empire books."
"Okay."
Jesu tapped at their father's computer. Surprisingly, Carlos had left his Outlook account open. His calendar showed blank for the last month, and the next two weeks. There were unanswered messages from the crewmen he employed on his boat, wondering if the boss was in fact coming back to work in two weeks.
Where would papa go..? Jesu wondered. Nothing seemed to be missing or out of place in the office, except there was an old empty bottle lying on the desk. He checked the master bedroom as well. Carlos' suit was missing... Must be a funeral. He went back out to the entryway to wait for Rusty. He leaned against the counter and yawned... What's that? Papa's Glock model 29 wasn't on the shelf where he kept it. In it's place was a folded piece of paper, with a handwritten note in Spanish.
"Dios mio," Jesu muttered once he'd reread it. "Rusty! I know where papa's gone!"
Rusty emerged carrying a neatly packed book carton and a garment bag. "Where?"
Jesu held out the note and watched his brother's eyes scan it.
"I don't get it... 'Bury a friend'? What friend?"
"Papa's been gone for a month," Jesu told him. "Who's been dead for a month that we all know - that papa knows from 'the bad old days'?"
It clicked. "Saul Moskovitz."
"Bingo." Jesu crumpled the paper. "Papa's gone to Moab."
"Zoo, papa's not allowed to go to the Moon. He can't leave the planet. How could he get to Moab?"
"He'd find a way." Jesu ran a hand through his hair. "Parole violations are going to be the last thing he'll have to worry about if he gets caught. C'mon, we've gotta get back to Frisco."
"What about Bandidos?"
"Don't you get what's at stake here, Rust?" Jesu snapped. "Can't you see what's going on? If the Council gets their way, papi and everyone else on Moab who doesn't toe their party line will be found guilty of sedition and dealt with as traitors. Everyone we care about on that world is going to die at the hands of Starfleet unless I can find a way to stop it."
He took a deep breath and looked into the Deinon's startled eyes. "I'm sorry, bro. I didn't mean to yell at you..."
"It's okay. I understand. You've been on edge since the battle. I just thought..." Rusty shrugged, "a jalapeno chili cheeseburger would cheer you up."
"I dunno," Jesu said, "but I know it'll make you happy, and seeing you happy always cheers me up." He checked his watch and nodded. "Let's go eat."
Sander Estate, Port Blakely, WA
"Welcome home, honey." Alice removed Marq's jacket and propelled him toward a couch. "Atticus, privacy mode Alice-X-Zero." To Marq she said "I'm glad to see you."
"Um... I can... tell..." Marq got out between kisses and the removal of his undershirt. "It was... a rough trip..."
"I know. I saw the news. That's why I'm so happy to see you..."
After the lovemaking was over, the pillowtalk turned to Dr. Alice Okuda-Sander's work. "You really want me to talk about that?" she asked. "Now?"
"Your brain is the sexiest part of you," Marq told her. "And your being evasive, which means what you're working on is illegal, which means it's also interesting and very exciting."
"Well..." Alice sat up and settled into the couch. "Do you remember your work in nanoscale distributed intelligence systems?"
"Of course."
"Well, I think I figured out a way to apply artificial sentience to a nanite colony. I'll need your help with the dataflow algorithms but if I'm right, we'll have processing power and data storage density that will leave bioneural and positronic nets in the dust."
Marq's thoughts immediately recalled the gray goo colony that had consumed the True Way shipyard and attempted to eat the USS Devilfish. "That sounds incredibly dangerous," he told his wife. "It's probably a good thing that nanoscale AI is illegal technology."
"Oh, there would be controls. Not like Atticus, but there would be controls..."
"What about memory?" Marq asked. "Nanite datanodes can only hold so much... even if you had a million nodes in your colony, there's not much room for more than your program and your sensory inputs."
"Oh, I know," Alice said. "There are definitely limits to the application. I don't think I could push it much beyond S-six or seven, for starters. And it would have to be tied to a base station, but that could be built into a PADD or a tricorder. I mean, I fit Cheshire into a single isolinear chip..."
"That reminds me..." Marq got up and found his pants, and pulled an isochip from a pocket, and handed it to Alice.
"What's this?"
"Cheshire. Hooper found her on the Tiburon's net. He didn't know what she was. He called her 'Stripes' at first... Apparently she helped him take out a monster of an Iconian Hydra-program that was infesting Starbase Seventy-Five-Tau. She was wounded, and went catatonic. Hooper didn't know what to do with her. So he gave her to me bring back to you."
"Looking Glass and I sent her to look after you..." Alice turned the crystalline chip over in her hand and stood up. "I'd better get to work and see if I can wake her."
"Can I watch?"
Alice nodded. "Shhh," she said. It was like flipping a switch, Marq realized. She didn't even bother to dress as she walked over to a 'cold' terminal, and inserted the chip. "Marq, sweetie, could you keep an eye on the system resources display for me?" she asked.
"What are you doing?" he watched as she pulled a thing that looked like a skullcap made of strips out of a drawer and connected it to the terminal.
"I'm diving Cheshire's dream," she said. "I'd appreciate it if you kept an eye on me while I'm under."
"Wouldn't Atticus-"
"Nope."
San Francisco
The owners of Tommy's Mexican Restaurant and Tequila Bar on Geary Blvd. always knew when Admiral Jesu LaRoca was in town, because they saw their revenue from take-out orders increase by at least double. The restaurant was one of the few within the San Francisco city limits to use naturally-grown ingredients wherever possible. Where that wasn't possible (at least legally) like with its meats, they replicated their cuts raw and cooked it using traditional methods. This secured them the patronage of Admiral LaRoca, and many of his friends.
Tonight's order would serve ten, or eight if there was a Deinon and a Gorn in the party. It was delivered just a few minutes before Admiral LaRoca's guests arrived. Hacksaw Miller pulled up in his Suburban a few minutes after 1800 and unloaded most of the "DABO" table - Jesu's name for his diplomatic advisory board.
Ennari, fifth host of the Dai symbiont, was simultaneously the youngest and oldest member of the table. She was an accomplished diplomat, involved in numerous peace treaties including the one just inked between Annik Okeg and J'mpok. The FDC had assigned her to the Consular Operations Task Force as "Consul-at-large" but had retained her to help frame the treaty with the Klingon Empire.
The Federation Diplomatic Corps had also retained Ivan Sergei Jovanovich to help address some of the fallout from the Denali crisis, including the secession of Berun's World. The blind Russian man exuded congeniality and wisdom beyond his years. In the end, he had agreed with Berun's World's reasons for leaving the Federation - to the annoyance of his superiors at the FDC - but his work insured an amicable split rather than a violent confrontation.
Nimosu Oro, the half-Bajoran, half-Japanese diplomat, had accompanied LaRoca as far as Deep Space Nine on his last trip, where she was on hand for the Gamma Quadrant trade conference. Kugid Denaia had been there as well; the Orion serving as a "facilitator" and leaving the actual diplomacy to Nimosu.
"Where's Stazratts?" Jesu asked. The Gorn was conspicuously absent.
"Pentaxia," Miller told him. "The FDC sent him to advise the Empress in her dealing with the Gorn Separatists' invasion of Tannhauser, in case she asks for the Federation's help. She hasn't of course. He says the weather's nice."
"He would say that," Rusty almost laughed, recalling the way the Gorn had taken to the climate of Moab III.
"Well, that's two servings of camarones al mojo de ajo that won't get eaten," Jesu said, looking over the food he'd laid out on the table.
"Good!" Rusty exclaimed. "Leftovers!"
Over dinner, Jesu explained the situation, with help from Rusty and Hank Miller. After serving everyone flan en dulce de leche for dessert, he said "You all know where I stand with this. Is there any one of you who sees things differently? You all know me well enough to know that I'm asking for an honest answer. I won't think any less of you if you tell me something I don't want to hear."
The four diplomatic advisors all remained silent for a moment. Ennari spoke first. "Long-term, I would like to see the Moab Confederacy and its member worlds rejoin the Federation, but not like this. And the Federation needs to get it's own house in order first. That's why I joined you, and ConOps, Admiral."
"Politics is like a rotten egg - when it's broken, it stinks," Jovanovich quoted one of his favorite Russian sayings. "What the Federation is doing to the Confederacy is unjust, and illegal. We must persuade the Council to stop pursuing its course."
"I'm your man, Admiral," Kugid said. "You know that. I see what the Federation is doing to take away people's freedoms, and I want it to stop."
Nimosu Oro had a concerned frown growing across a face unaccustomed to frowning. She was the last to speak. "But it's not how They see it, Kugid," she said. "I'm speaking of 'our' side - the Federation... doesn't see it that way." She picked at her food a moment. "Ben Sisko once observed that we - and I mean the people in charge, here, live in paradise. It's hard to see how that isn't so, from a historical perspective, or from the view of someone who's worked Romulan refugee camps, then come back to places like Earth, where pretty much anything and everything you need is there for the asking... Health care, child care, education, food, shelter?" She toyed with her flan some more using a fork. "Everything. And it's mostly readily available in even the colonies... Well, most of them."
She put her fork down. "The Federation has laws guaranteeing freedom of speech, and a system that guarantees a freedom from want, and hardship. It's hard to convince someone that they aren't free, when they can go into their living rooms, and replicate substances that were illegal contraband two hundred years ago for the same price as lighting a sixty-watt bulb, and they won't be arrested... And if they develop a problem, the treatment is free for all and available to everyone. Want diamonds? How big? How many? Input the rep program, and you have them, no grubbing in faraway places in dangerous mines..." she shook her head, "So, it's hard to sell that what the Confederates are doing is superior - not with all the material wealth and no requirement to work available in this post-scarcity environment."
"But it's their choice," Miller told her, "and that freedom of choice is what the Federation is trying to take away."
"And the Federation - pardon my taking their side to illustrate, would argue that the choice is invalid," Nimosu said. "They really, honestly think that way - that someone choosing to live in scarcity, in violence, in social chaos, is a sign of mental sickness... mental sickness that, like all sickness in this modern age, is something to be treated and cured." She sipped her water, and put the glass down. "That's the mentality we're up against. I don't agree with it, but I understand it."
Jesu weighed her words carefully, then asked "Will you try to change it?"
"I am. I will, but I would suggest that we're going to need a plan 'b.' Because what we have to wrestle with, is convincing someone that someone else's choices - as uncomfortable, even dangerous as they are, are equally valid to a system that provides comfort and contentment to trillions of varied beings of all sorts. We have to prove that their system works, which it doesn't... or we have to prove it's not worth the effort to change them... which is a dangerous proof in and of itself, and was the true center of the atrocity at Vancouver." she pushed at her food again.
Ivan Jovanovich frowned at that, and leaned forward. "Jesu, have you noticed a certain infusion of... ruthlessness of late - in Starfleet as an organization?"
"Beyond the Denali incident, you mean?" Jesu nodded. "I've seen some of that." On both sides, he thought, remembering what Schrodinger had done.
"I've been getting some interesting rumors. Stories about Federation ships running cloaking devices, some sales of key components we know only work as part of a cloak system... I know the President authorized limited application to specific ships, but the rumors I'm hearing are more indicative of mass-production and deployment..." Ivan sipped at his margarita, and met Jesu's gaze, "numbering in the thousands. Or at least the hundreds. In the quantities I'm hearing about, the only use is as a first-strike platform, also the fit of the Avenger class... and rumors that some of those are being fitted with cloak as well... Certainly more than 'select ships' the President assured the Federation Council were all that would be allowed."
Jesu frowned. Considering he controlled three - now two - of those "select ships" and was all-too-familiar with the effectiveness of a decloaking alpha-strike, this was grim news for the future of Starfleet as a "peacekeeping and humanitarian" organization. "I'll talk to Grimes about these rumors. He's building me an Avenger-class and that does not have a cloak..."
"Rumors about cloaked Starfleet dreadnoughts have been around forever," Hacksaw pointed out. "Conspiracy theorists talking about how the Terran Empire secretly took over the Federation. It's all talk from people who don't really know what they're talking about."
"Yes, but Utopia Planitia, Beta Antares, and a few other yards are running three shifts - and we're technically at peace," Jovanovich said. "Yet... attendance at Starfleet Academy has been level. Why are they building new ships at an accelerated rate?"
"How accelerated?" Miller wondered.
"According to last month's report to the oversight committee, Starfleet's ship-strength is up to full. We're at levels forty percent above projected needs prior to the Borg invasion... but the yards aren't full of damaged ships, they're full of ships under build." Ivan paused, "New ships. New classes." Jovanovich glanced around, "So, why all the new construction if we're at peace now, and where are all those new ships going if they're not picking up crew from the usual sources?"
"Um..." Miller pondered. "Best case scenario, Starfleet is taking the Undine threat seriously. Scary-bad-case, the conspiracy theorists are right, and the Terran Empire from the Mirror Universe really did take over..."
"And absolute-worst-case-oh-my-god-holy-sh*t-we're-all-gonna-die scenario," Rusty rolled out, "we have a lot more Undine infiltrators than we think we do."
"I have one scarier," Ennari said, "one that will scare you more than a plot by the Terran Empire or the Undine. Remember during the Dominion scare? An Admiral who decided to make himself a dictator?"
"The Leyton coup attempt," Jesu recalled. "I was only three years old then, but I've done a lot of research. I wrote a paper on him when I was in the Academy..."
"Yes, well, a fleet of cloaking starships crewed by officers from outside the Starfleet system is an ideal tool for supporting a coup from inside - or for generating a pretext to take control, don't you think?"
Jesu tasted the thought. "How would he do it?" he asked. "Hypothetically?"
"Generate an incident - or series of incidents - to ramp up public offense and terror, maybe sabotage a peace conference or pull an unauthorized strike, then use the reaction to justify further takeover and tighten control," Hacksaw stated. "Like what the T'Nae infiltrator did... With the fleet already militarized and the Federation acknowledging the Undine threat publicly now, it would be pretty easy... you just have to scare the council hard enough, then offer a 'solution'."
Miller paused, and added, "If, for instance, what happened last month got public airplay, and you were in the right position, sir, you could do it."
Rusty's eyes went WIDE at that. He looked at his brother, tried to read his thoughts, and wished Spitz was here with them... "Jesu... you don't want to go down that road."
"I know, Rusty, I know. But Quinn might. Or the CSC..."
"Or someone could assume you do, and decide to cut you off before you get the chance." Miller added, "Someone looking at the numbers might decide Jesu LaRoca is preparing a coup, or is a person who can sabotage theirs."
Rusty closed his eyes and remembered the crossroads he saw in his... dream? Vision? A multitude of paths, all of them treacherous and narrow, now unfolding before him and his brother. Only one of those paths was the way out. And some of those who walk with you now will fall away... he recalled. He opened his eyes and looked at Jesu again. "We'll have to be very, very careful about how we proceed."
"Yeah, we will," Jesu agreed. "I don't want to give anyone the wrong ideas, or tip anyone off... I'll have Marq talk to Grimey about these cloaking devices, and these new ships. Maybe they're nothing more than rumors. Maybe there's some legitimate reason for them, like a defense force in case what happened at Betazed or Goralis happens here. Either way, we need to know before we start looking for a new James Leyton."
"We should bring down Spitz-Reader before we talk to anyone at Starfleet HQ," Rusty said. "He should have the kids all settled by Thursday."
"Right. CSC wants to meet - I'll put her off until then... Um, you guys," he looked at the DABO table. "I want you to focus on the Moab situation. Hacksaw's reviewed the votes every time it's come up in the Council, and he's identified a few Council Members that seem to be on the fence. I'd like for you guys to divide them up, and feel them out, maybe sow some seeds and get them to think about what they'd be doing - what it means for the people their decision will affect."
"We'll get on it," Ennari said, pulling out her PADD and syncing it to Miller's.
"What do you want me to do?" Hacksaw wondered.
"I want you to try and get in touch with Drake," Jesu said. "I want to know what his people are planning - if they'll help us, or..." he had a terrible thought that he quickly suppressed. "Or if they're the ones that stealth fleet is for."
The Pyramid Club, Downtown San Francisco - 1230 the next day
"LaRoca, table for four," Jesu said, as he approached the ma
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Nice.
Loved Rusty's reference to the OMFGHSWAGTD-class Charlie Foxtrot.
Do continue!
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I don't see him ever seriously thinking about a coup myself. He believes in the Federation too much-though I could see possible business interests wanting to use him in such manner, like General Smedley Butler in the 1930's. and he'd turn it down just like Butler did I'd think.
"he's as dangerous as a ferret with a chainsaw."
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
In that same paragraph, there's an error that may or may not have been deliberate:
"What the Federation is doing to Confederacy" should be "What the Federation is doing to the Confederacy".
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Walk down the road
Hint to no one that this
Generic bond exists
Evil shows another side
And like before
Makes no sense
Never coming
Always leaving
Right before
Hooked on substance
Dig in deeper
Can't reveal
Why we leave
Well enough alone
Never thought about the shame
SICK!
So fed up, what's with the scenes?
Observe and leave instead
This pity wagon penetrates my skin
So sensitive, makes me sick
And like before
Makes no sense
Never coming
Always leaving
Right before
Hooked on substance
Dig in deeper
Can't reveal
Why we leave
Well enough alone
Never thought about the shame
Am I alone?
The old and the aged
Pulled, never knew what hit
The old and the aged
Pulled, never knew what hit
And like before
Makes no sense
Never coming
Always leaving
Right before
Hooked on substance
Dig in deeper
Can't reveal
Why we leave
Well enough alone
Never thought about the shame
Why we leave
Well enough alone
Never thought about the shame
We live
We live...
Pete and Sam Loeffler of Chevelle - "Well Enough Alone"
P A R T. T W O :
N E V E R . C O M I N G , . A L W A Y S . L E A V I N G
Seacliff, San Francisco, Earth - 2412.07.17.2131
"...What are you talking about, papi?" Jesu demanded. "I'm on Earth. You're on Moab. The people over here are planning some really awful things for the people over there-"
"They're already doing it," Carlos interrupted. He looked at his other son. "Rusty, your old MACO Delta troop - what would you say was fair odds for one of your Human MACOs against Klingons?"
"Against Klingon infantry?" Rusty shrugged. "One of us against seven of them sounds fair, as long as the MACO stays out of melee range."
"So there's no way that one of your men - with MACO Delta-issue gear - should go down to five Klingon civilians - old men and teenagers armed with twenty-second century weapons?"
Rusty shook his head. "Not if they trained with me or Commander Obruchev, no sir. That sounds sloppy even for regular Starfleet Security."
Carlos turned to Quentin Heywood and said, "Told ya."
"Papa, what's going on?" Jesu asked.
"What's going on is somebody with serious connections over there is trying to start a civil war over here," Carlos told them, "and either they've never heard the words 'operational security' or they want us to know what they're doing."
"I don't understand. Why would they want that?"
"Because they know that you would find out, and that you would try to find them and stop them." Carlos looked at his son. "Jesu, mijo, you need to be very, very careful. These guys, they're trying to play Moab and the Federation against each other, and tear them both apart from the inside. And they're playing you for a pawn in their game."
Heathrow, London 18 July, 1023 hours (local/GMT)
For not the first time Sanjit wondered just what the hell she was doing here. Yeah, Taylor still technically sorta needed a hand, and she wasn't at one hundred percent herself, though at least she'd moved up to sunglasses when outside. Eventually she'd get the inner eyelids back, the Medics said, but as long as she didn't go out in whiteout conditions she'd be fine.
Not much chance of that in summertime England. Again... why was she here? Yeah, she was on medical leave, and wasn't to report to General Ssharki until she was certified fit and climatized; the latter she was getting close to, at least. But she could have gone anywhere, rode back on one of the KDF ships... hell, she needed to brush up on her tlhIngan Hol anyway. But she couldn't let him go into the lion's den alone... why she didn't know.
What she did know was his parents were royally pissed over his new job for Admiral LaRoca. Who fortunately outranked Admiral Richard Taylor-Smythe enough that Taylor-Smythe couldn't change his son's orders.
Aaron on the other hand was tickled pink at Admiral LaRoca picking him for ConOps. At least he'd be working for someone worth a damn on the Federation side, and who worked with her new boss often... She wondered idly if once they were both assigned, if they'd have the chance to work much together...
Sanjit was lost in a daydream when he came back from the men's room. He was getting around easier, and to be honest, she didn't have to come... but he was glad she was here. Wasn't just his parents that were going to be upset by some of the changes in him... Penelope as well was going to be... well, a problem? He wasn't sure. Oh, he loved her, and knew their families would want them to eventually marry each other, hinting very strongly at that in fact since they were both twelve... but... there was something that she was missing, that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
He adjusted his uniform tunic one more time. At least he didn't have to wear the dress one. Yet. No doubt his mum would insist on some gala event, where everyone would oooh and aaah over the shiny bits of metal and cloth, that meant he lived through what so many others died doing. Or not perhaps... oddly enough other than the Cardassian news service, there was little if any news on the Goralis battle on the terminals in the shuttleport. Everything was on the 'Secession Crisis'. Another thing that was going to be a sore subject if and when that came up.
He sighed and put it out of his mind, watching his companion. Unlike him, her uniform did have decorations - but KDF regulations put emphasis on awards for victory in battle. The fact that she had Klingon, Denali and Federation decorations on her sash did raise a few eyebrows in the transit lounge - as did her KDF uniform, especially as, well, revealing as it's skirt was. True, she needed it to stay cool, and he did find himself looking more than he probably should... and she was doing that thing again, one of her fingers idly playing with a strand of her longish auburn hair.
She noticed him looking at her, her ears flicking back a bit in what he'd learned by now was what she did when she was embarrassed. "What?"
"You're doing that thing with your hair again," he teased.
Sanjit just smirked and stuck her tongue out at him. "Thats because you were taking so long in there, was wondering if you'd fallen in or something."
Aaron laughed and carefully started moving. At least all he needed now was a cane for a few more weeks - technically with modern technology he probably could get by without that - but the Doc on the Tiburon had been emphatic on him using it. Better to have it and not need it than the other way around. "Not too hot for you?"
"I'm fine, thanks," she replied. She looked almost Human, well except for a few features like the ears. One of the adaptations to warmer climate is the fur she was usually covered with shedding. Probably another reason that the General didn't mind her accompanying him on this trip... he won't have his ship full of Denali fur.
The two of them walked out of the arrivals area, it was easy to see who was waiting for them, the scowl on the Admiral (Really, a FULL Dress uniform? And zero actual combat awards?) got even deeper when he saw that Aaron wasn't alone, and the nature of his company. His mother also sniffed disdainfully when she saw her... of course she just saw the uniform... this was going to be a fun visit.
Aaron on the other hand looked happy to see them - but then they were his family. "Mother, Admiral," he said with a smile. "Where's Penelope? I thought she would be here too."
(Admiral? REALLY?)
His mother simply sniffed haughtily. "Why would we bring her to a place such as this, crawling with... well, lets just say it's not a place for a proper lady."
"You and I are going to have words, Lieutenant," his father said with a glower. "And why did you bring this..."
Once, not long ago he would have been cowed by the very idea of The Admiral being unhappy over something... Now however... "We are now at peace with the Empire, and Lt. Kaur has full travel authorization from the Federation. Furthermore she is not only my friend, I would not be alive it it not for her. If it is a problem, then we can go stay elsewhere... Sir."
The Admiral's face changed a rather alarming shade of puce, but he simply glowered. "Fine," he replied, then turned and headed towards the exit, his wife trailing. Aaron just gave a sympathetic shrug to Sanjit, as the two of them limped after them.
Seacliff
Jesu LaRoca finished his second cup of coffee, checked his watch, and decided his brother had slept long enough. He went back upstairs to his bedroom to check on Rusty. He couldn't help but smile seeing the Deinon curled up in the bed, cradling Jesu's pillow to his chest and snoring in a way that sounded like a soft hum. Watching Rusty sleep, Jesu always looked past the lethal superpredator and saw him in a way that only a big brother really could.
He gently shook Rusty's shoulder. "Wake up, baby bro."
Rusty's mouth twitched to form a hint of a smile, and his eyes opened. "Hey, Zoo."
"You sleep okay?"
"Slep' great." Rusty rolled over and yawned. "What time is it?"
"Oh-nine-thirty."
Rusty sat bolt upright. "Seriously?" He saw Jesu nod. "That's... wow, almos' nine hours."
"I know. I guess you needed it."
"Mus' be the bed..." Rusty mumbled as he got up and went into the bathroom. "You shoulda woke me up sooner. We got work to do..."
"I'll be down in my office. You want waffles?"
"Sure!"
Jesu went back downstairs to the kitchen and started the waffle maker for his brother before refilling his coffee cup.
Rusty found him in his office a few minutes later. "So, Georgia and H'mL'n are coming down today," the Deinon said with his mouth full of waffle and whipped cream.
"How are those two getting along?" Jesu asked, without looking up from the message he was reading.
"According to Georgia, 'better than ever,' now that H'mL'n's come around to our way of thinking."
"Good. The two of them working together could make for good publicity." Jesu pulled up his schedule. "Ugh, speaking of publicity..."
"Admiral Taylor-Swift-Smythe-Smith's big ball?" Rusty stuck out his tongue. "If you're thinking of dragging me off to that, I'm going back to bed."
"No, I'm not going either. But that upper-class twit-of-the-year show would be good grounds to scope out, and maybe drum up support among the fence-sitters. Ryoko'll be there. I think I should send Ennari as backup. She's good at handling politicians and other twits."
Rusty picked up a PADD, scanned the event in the Admiral's schedule and called up the list of attendees. "Huh. You know, Quinn's invited too..."
"But not Reader. I checked it out already. You can get in because you share my name. But Reader's too 'alien' for the homo sapiens club. And I don't think Quinn will show. Too public and too easy for him to make an excuse."
"We gotta corner him at some point..."
"I know, Rusty. I'm working on it. But we have other priorities right now. Quinn's not the one moving the Council to destroy Moab." Jesu opened his invitation and RSVP'd in Ennari Dai's name. "Who's your best Betazoid on security? Ennari needs a date."
Wolfthorn Manor, Near Henly-on-Thames, England
It wasn't a house, it was a manor. Hell even the doors were big enough to drive through, Sanjit thought as the hovercars pulled up to the doorway. The Admiral and his wife retreated into the house, leaving the two of them outside. She started to say something snarky, then paused, biting her lip. This couldn't be any better for him than it was for her. Instead, she pushed it aside. "Nice place."
He shrugged. "It's been in the family for a century or six. At one time we had titles, which annoys my mother to no end that she doesn't have one nowadays." He smirked, going to the boot of the hovercar and attempting to pull his bags out.
"Here lemme get that for you," she started to say, when a smooth, cultured voice spoke up.
"Allow me, sir."
She blinked as a man was standing behind them, wearing an impeccably clean tuxedo, who had come up so quietly that even she didn't hear him approach.
"Trevor!" Aaron broke into the first smile she'd seen on him since they were picked up at Heathrow. "I'd have thought they would have made you drive them to pick us up."
Trevor, a thin, balding human with graying hair didn't smile, but Sanjit could see he was pleased to see Aaron. "I had other duties, Master Aaron, one of them was to bring you to see the Captain."
Aaron looked nervous at that, one of the few times she'd seen him that way. Trevor on the other hand didn't seem to notice, but he was reassuring at least. "Yes, I guess, mustn't keep her waiting."
Their luggage was taken into the house by the driver, as the two of them followed the butler. It was a modest house by English country manor standards, better than what many planetary rulers had anywhere else. As they went down the hall her nose twitched, she picked up the familiar smell of medical equipment and supplies, finally stopping before a door that didn't look like a clinic.
The Butler rang a bell by the door. "Captain? Your grandson has arrived." There was no sound that she could pick up other than a metallic whirring, but the door opened automatically, Trevor gesturing for them to proceed inside.
Squaring his shoulders, Aaron stepped through the doorway, Sanjit following. It was dark in the room; a natural dark though, the windows outside looking into a shaded garden on the ground floor of the mansion. She was right, there was medical equipment there... and... something else...
There was a soft mechanical whirr as the power chair turned away from the window, Captain Naomi Taylor, or what was left of her, anyway, obviously had seen far better days. Scars criss-crossed her face. Plasma burns for the most part. One blue eye was the only one working. She had only the right arm as well, and from the waist down everything was hidden by support mechanisms of her chair. Her voice, though, was firm, yet kind, and her remaining eye gleamed with intelligence. The old woman's mouth broke into a scarred smile when she saw Aaron.
"Captain," he said as he walked up, causing her to wave her gnarled hand dismissively
"You can drop the rank, you're family, despite what your father insists on." When he looked a bit surprised at that, she just shook her head. "I know, I treated you like I do him the last I saw you - but at the time, I thought he was turning you into a miniature version of him. I'm glad to see that isn't the case."
"I actually managed to get a better job than the one he tried to push me into taking," Aaron admitted as he sat down next to his grandmother. "He's not happy, but he's never happy - and I'd rather work for Admiral LaRoca than stamping papers at Starfleet Headquarters anyday."
"Wait, LaRoca? Jesu LaRoca?"
"You know him?"
She was quiet for a moment remembering, then shook her head. "I know of him - and I saw the pictures his papa showed me once. Your Admiral's father was, well even now I can't tell you just what he did, because I don't know the details and even if I did you don't have clearance. Second biggest mistake of my life," Naomi said with a rueful sigh, "Was not running off with that cute friend of his when I had the chance."
It was probably rude, but Sanjit was curious. "What was the first biggest?"
"Not calling in every favor I had to get Aaron's father out of Starfleet and into a career he'd be more suited. Like waste disposal, or maybe counting gravel on Mars. Now it's too late, he's on the bloody admiralty now. Man's never held a serious command in his life, and he's got the balls to dictate how Starfleet should be run?"
Surprisingly he didn't come to the defense of his father... though after meeting the man, Sanjit could agree, as Captain Taylor continued. "Do you know what his latest 'triumph' is Aaron?"
"No, but I wonder if it will compare to his wanting to put MACO special forces in reflective high-vis uniforms for 'health and safety' reasons..."
"No, that got shot down due to common sense. But this one's going through... Ever hear of Hoffman's Folly? The folks there are different from most Humans, heavy-gee world, so the people there are big, two, three hundred kilos easily, some close to three meters tall. Being that they're 'legally' Human, and it's impossible for them to fit Human medical standards... they're going to be kicked out of Starfleet. Three hundred ninety four people, among them some of the best combat commanders and scientists of the Federation."
Sanjit and Taylor both looked shocked, neither one personally knew Captain Monroe, but they'd both seen him around 75-Tau in the run up to the Battle of Goralis, and of course his exploits on Defera were stuff of legend. "That... that's stupid."
"That's Starfleet of late," Naomi replied with a sigh. "Be glad you're working with the Empire, Lt. Kaur, and that your world went independant. While Imperial internal politics can be rough, at least the Klingons don't cut off their noses to spite their face."
"Independence wasn't exactly what we were wanting..."
"I know, and it was total horse sh*te what they did to your people - and what they're threatening to do again to someone else." The old Captain shook her head. "I should warn you, that many of the people the Admiral will be bringing to their gala, were supporters of the attempted mission on Denali. I do hope you're planning on attending, because," she said, "I don't get many pleasures nowadays, but watching arseholes squirm with a guilty conscience is one of the ones I can indulge in."
She actually giggled at that mental image. "I only have a KDF uniform, I wonder if the Embassy would have the pattern for the Denali SDF one, and if they do which should I wear?"
"Denali, definitely," Naomi replied, cackling. "And being this is a fancy gala, make sure to have all your awards, both of you. I'll be wearing mine... it makes your father's blood pressure go up everytime he has to salute me."
At the Ball...
"Ennari Dai, and Lountu Zetaz." The old Trill with the pretty young host spoke with a well-practiced tone of bored indifference. "We're on the list."
Trevor just nodded. Knowing exactly who everyone was was part of being a butler. "Indeed you are... right this way please?" he indicated, one of the servants guiding them into the ballroom.
The tuxedo clad Human - at least it looked like one, hard to tell sometimes - stopped at the top of the staircase, then in a rather loud voice, announced "Ambassador-at-Large Ennari Dai, and her companion Lountu Zetaz." The conversation in the room lowered for a moment, then picked up at it's normal volume, evidently some folks figuring they weren't important enough.
Ennari took the scene in with an air of quiet amusement. It was all so typical it was almost a caricature. "Eyes on me, Lieutenant," she whispered somehow without moving her lips. "You're supposed to be my date, remember?"
"How'd you know I was-"
"-Checking out that Vulcan's rack?" Ennari finished for Lt. Zetaz. "I've been a man before. Three times. At least pretend you're pretending to be interested in me."
Outside the main building, Sanjit was pacing nervously. She felt self-conscious in the SDF dress greens. She thought the Klingon uniforms were gaudy, but these looked like something from the end of the 20th century, with the sashes, colors, and medals. At least she didn't have to wear the plumed hat - they hadn't gotten one designed for females yet.
She knew he'd be late, coming in from a meeting in San Francisco. Well, late was a relative term to things like this; Aaron wasn't due to make his 'grand entrance' with his fiancee for another half hour. The 'fiancee' hadn't made an appearance yet either. Which was fine with her... because as soon as she did arrive her time with Aaron would be pretty much over. And that bothered her more than she thought it should.
His mother's attempt to have her gone before tonight bothered her as well. "A 'proper lady' doesn't go to a male companion's engagement ball" she had sniffed disdainfully.
Fortunately she was not not a proper lady by a long shot, and she actually was both invited by Aaron, and her escort. Who wasn't going to be popular with a lot of the crowd probably - but then, if they really didn't want him to show up, then they shouldn't have sent an invitation.
There was a bit of a commotion by the shuttle pad where the few reporters were made to wait - society pages mostly, or 'useless prats' as Aaron referred to them as. Still, he was easy to see as he walked up the path. Few people on Earth wore a turban, least of all one as colorful as the one Ambassador Singh was sporting this evening.
He smiled when he saw her. "Sat Shri Akal, Lieutenant Kaur."
"Sat Shri Akal, Ambassador," she replied. "Thank you for coming to this..."
He just laughed. "They did invite me, along with nearly every ambassador currently on planet. It would be a shame to refuse their hospitality, would it not?"
The ambassador had lost most of his fur to shedding as he acclimatized to Earth... which just made his marvelously styled beard stand out more than it did before, his light blue turban almost glowing in the lights.
As they stepped up the path to the entrance, Trevor actually smiled. "Ah Ambassador Singh, Lieutenant Kaur. The Captain will be most pleased you are attending."
Sanjit smiled. "I am looking forward to introducing her to the Ambassador," she replied. "She's a most charming lady."
"Well then, lets not keep her waiting." The two followed Trevor himself as he lead them into the entrance hall. She felt intimidated for some reason by all the people in the hall as they paused at the top of the stairs, then straightened her spine. She'd fought Orions, Terrans, and Fek'ihir... these were nothing next to that.
"Presenting His Excellency Chanan Singh, Ambassador from Denali, and Lieutenant Sanjit Kaur, Denali Space Defense Forces."
The two of them stepped forward as every head swiveled towards them, the silence almost deafening, several faces going pale as they walked down, all smiles. At least some of the people there looked happy to see them.
Admiral LaRoca's Trill friend positively beamed at them, while the tuxedoed Betazoid man standing with her discreetly made notations on a pocket PADD.
Foreign Minister Hibiki smiled and nodded to them, before turning back to the discussion she was having with the Tellarite Ambassador, her aide dutifully taking notes.
"We should go talk to them," the Ambassador said quietly. "Better to see some friendly faces first, before braving the not so friendly ones."
"You mean like that fat one over there with a wine glass in each hand?"
He looked, and didn't frown, he was too professional for that, despite being an ambassador for only a few months. "Him, yes. He was formerly in Colonial Development under Martin Cave."
Cave. The one responsible for so much... if she had come to this before Goralis... things could, no would have gotten ugly. Now though... she just smiled across the room as she caught him staring at her. Though it was a very sharp toothed smile... "I think I'll avoid him, as much as I'd love to see him squirm," she whispered back, the crowd not being rude, but definitely giving them room.
Chanan nodded. "But first, we would be rude if we did not greet our 'gracious' hosts."
The Admiral wasn't having a good evening. All this non replicated food cost real money, money that, well he had, but being that it wasn't like he got a paycheck from Starfleet... he'd rather not spend. But his wife was insistent, and this was a great opportunity to network, so that he could seamlessly move from Starfleet to the real power, in Paris shortly. Still, for this fiasco, he had no one to blame but himself. They had invited all the foreign ambassadors on earth, only two responded, none of them really socially respectable. The Denali, who The Admiral believed came just to spite him, and that damned big eared Ferengi. Even now he was tying up the business leaders, monopolizing their time in crass merchant deals. Bah.
Still, The Admiral knew how to put on a good show, smiling to everyone... including the two genetic monstrosities approaching him and his wife. "Admiral" the ***** who corrupted his son said as she came up, without even a salute, the insolent one. "I'd like to introduce you to Ambassador Chanan Singh."
Be gracious, good practice for when you're in politics he thought to himself as he smiled "It is a pleasure to meet you, ambassador," he lied through his teeth.
Whether the ambassador saw through it or not, he made no sign. "Sat Sri Akaal, Admiral, Mrs Taylor-Smythe," he replied, bowing politely.
"What does that mean?" his wife asked.
"It is a ritual greeting of my people, it means "God is the ultimate truth".
Lady Taylor-Smythe sniffed disdainfully. "We don't believe in such ancient superstitions as 'god' here on earth in the 2400's Ambassador."
Chanan just smiled, and patted her hand. "That is quite alright, He believes in you." He smiled and bowed again, heading towards the Foreign minister, Sanjit managing mostly not to giggle at the purple color rising on The Admiral's face.
"A pleasure to meet you again, Ambassador Singh," Ryoko said as they approached.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, though I must admit, I did not expect to see you here," he replied. "I would have thought that you'd have something else to be doing on a friday evening more fulfilling than this, washing your hair perhaps," he said with a grin.
"Yeah, if it wasn't for other matters, I probably wouldn't have attended," she replied with another grin. "Still, despite the Moab situation being what it is, my job still requires me to attend these now and then."
He nodded, still smiling, but the humor had gone out of his eyes. "Indeed. The situation there is most delicate, and it needs to be resolved by promises made being kept. It would be... unfortunate as you know should things go badly."
On the other side of the room, Ennari Dai excused herself from a tedious conversation with several council members. Zetaz followed her, pocket PADD ready. "Checking in with our Admiral?" he asked.
"He'll be getting curious about now," she told him, leading the way out to an empty patio.
The lieutenant placed the call and handed the PADD to her as LaRoca appeared on the screen. "Well?"
"It's surprisingly not too dreadful," she informed him. "The Denali ambassador showed up, bringing your friend Lt. Kaur."
"That could be fun to watch," Jesu admitted. "But there are probably a lot more people there that I'd be inclined to shoot for reckless stupidity. How does the crowd feel to you?"
"Stupid," she said bluntly. "Most of the council members who accepted the invitation are the 'We-Know-What's-Best-For-Everybody' mob. There's a few fence-sitters here but they're leaning toward the fascists."
"Can you pull 'em back?"
"Like I said, they're stupid," Ennari said. "Things like the logic of rational self-interest escape them completely. Also..." she glanced at Zetaz. "Your lieutenant here thinks we have an infiltrator at the party."
"An Undine?" Jesu frowned. "Is Quinn there?"
"No, the only Admiral in attendance is the jerk who's putting on this show. It's gotta be a council member or some Paris staffer."
Rusty appeared behind his brother's shoulder. "Zetaz? What did you feel?"
"A pulse of hostility, strong telepathic push," the Betazoid officer reported, "as soon as the Denali ambassador entered the room. There's nobody here who should be able to project that so strongly."
"Do you think you can pin him down?"
Zetaz nodded. "We've been working the room. So far we've cleared about a fourth of the Council. I'll report when I have a short list of suspects."
"Do that," the Admiral ordered. "But be careful. They can kill without losing form."
"Understood."
Jesu looked at Ennari. "If there are Undine on the Council, leading people to vote against Moab independence, there will be a lot of similar issues that will be pushed the same way. And we know Undine influence has side-effects... look for people who vote consistently with that bloc, who've changed their voting habits recently - say in the last decade - and who don't seem so..."
"Stupid?" Ennari sighed. "We'll see what we can do."
The Admiral was pleased. Despite the unfortunate event of those two ambassadors actually believing their invitations meant they were actually wanted here, things had gone quite smoothly. His son would show soon with Councilman Grahm's daughter, and once the two of them were safely wed, he could move to the council side of things. The Federation was broken, and needed to be fixed, and Councilman Grahm had assured him that he was the right man for the job.
He was sipping his drink when he caught the sound of an annoyingly familiar whirring sound. No, she wouldn't... then her damn butler confirmed that yes, she would.
"Captain Naomi Taylor," the butler announced, the murmuring conversation of the crowd dying to silence. She was wearing it too... too damned bad it wasn't posthumous, the Medal of Honor prominently displayed on her uniform.
The Starfleet personnel at the gala all came to attention and saluted as her chair hovered down the stairs... Blast, when did she have it modified to do that? The stairs were supposed to keep her out of the main house. She rolled up to him, and clenching his teeth, he saluted her.
She simply nodded as she returned it with her one arm, the woman cackling at his discomfort. "Nice little party you've thrown here, Herbert."
He flushed at that but kept his temper in check. "Thank you, 'Captain'," he replied. "If you'll excuse me, there is something I must attend to."
She just watched as he hurried off, cackling softly to herself. A lot of the Starfleet Captains who were there showed more respect than her son had at least - but then they weren't quite as useless as 'The Admiral'. Making her way across the room to the small clearing where the Denali Ambassador stood with Sanjit and a few of the more, well, reasonable people. Both Sanjit and the young Betazoid officer saluted as she approached, but unlike 'The Admiral', they meant it.
She returned it with a smile. "I thought he was angry at your showing up," Naomi teased. "Glad to see he still has his loathing for me as well." Turning to the Ambassador from Denali she grinned. "And I have heard such horrible things about you, though considering the sources that I had been hearing them from, that should mean that you are someone worth knowing."
Ryoko sighed as she and Kyoko slipped into a side corridor, away from the main proceedings. "This is a bust," she groaned. "Almost everyone here is against Moab Independence, and those few that aren't decided yet are still leaning heavily towards re-annexation!!"
Kyoko tilted her head thoughtfully. "Maybe they're right?" she ventured. "In the last three years since declaring independence, the Moab Confederacy has been observed engaging in often violent military expeditions, been invaded by cannibalistic, carnivorous aliens, stepping into conflicts between the Federation and other governments, waging 'anti-piracy' operations that violate national borders, they're believed to be responsible for a massacre at Drozana station during a trade conference, and..." she stopped. "Seriously. This is what the people in that room are seeing - former Federation citizens engaging in bloody conflict at what almost looks like random." She folded her arms. "And that's not even counting the scandals, or the ongoing humanitarian crisis, or the fact that they picked a war with the Pentaxians... at this point, given their pattern - at least, the pattern in the eye of the public, if we don't re-annex, they'll end up destabilizing the quadrant and being destroyed themselves."
"I... hadn't really thought of it like that," Ryoko remarked.
"Thinking like that is why you pay me," Kyoko told her, "because I can think like that... we should not be shilling for independents like the Confederacy when we can be gathering information on the mood, and possibly the plans, of their enemies here."
Ryoko nodded. "Right... that sounds like it works," she said. "Thanks, Kyoko. I'm glad you're here."
"All part of the service, ma'am," Kyoko told her. "We should go inside, and see if we can't make 'friends'... or gather some gossip." she reached up and adjusted Ryoko's dress slightly, brushing at some imagined crumb. "You need to be charming for this, and seem neutral on the issue, even sympathetic to their position."
"All right," Ryoko informed, before the two headed back into the party.
Sanjit had never been drunk before, but then, she'd never had a reason to. While alcohol had little to no effect on her physiology, the chocolate fountain for the fondue on the other hand... had a similar effect to alcohol on normal humans. She didn't realize, couldn't understand why Aaron and his fiancee's arrival bothered her so much. It's not like she didn't know he was getting married... but the more she thought about it, the more it bothered her. And then there was, well... the smell.
She'd been smiling and polite when Penelope had made the rounds after her arrival, though it was only because Aaron wanted to introduce her to Sanjit in the first place that Penelope would have gotten within fifty meters of her or the Ambassador. Aaron had gotten called over to talk to his father, leaving her with them.
"So," Penelope had said as she chatted with Ambassador Singh. "I'm so glad that minor little squabble we had with your world last year was ironed out. I mean, I've read history, and Khan never had any children. So all the talk of you being descended from him is just rubbish."
Sanjit would have lost it, if it hadn't been for the look from Chanan. The Denali ambassador also didn't show his emotions, instead he smiled most charmingly. "Actually Miss, that is not quite true. While it is true that Noonien Singh did not sire any children, on our ship, while we only had about eighty seven passengers on board we had genetic material for over two hundred thousand. After our crash landing on the world we came to call home, it was necessary for our ancestors to modify themselves to survive. They used the hardiest genetic stock they could find, and His Excellency's genes were most superior."
As Penelope's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, Chanur just smiled. "If you'll excuse me, the Captain wanted to show me the grounds," he said. He bowed, then accompanied Captain Taylor out onto the veranda, as Penelope, wide eyed, retreated.
Sanjit laughed to herself, then... Wait, what's that smell? Did she... No, that's not what that smell is... oh, ****. Damn. Damn damn... She'd been around enough in the SDF, there was a good deal of that particular scent going around before the gate battle, as folks hooked up. She was one of the few who hadn't gone there, but she didn't judge anyone who had either - their life, their choices. But this... there were only a few in the room who could pick that up, no Caitians nearby. She should tell Aaron... no she couldn't... damnit. She didn't know what to do. Looking around and not seeing the ambassador, well it was on her as she followed Penelope. Wasn't hard to find her now that she had the scents. She had retreated to the buffet table, helping herself to a glass of something sparkling that probably cost more per bottle than Sanjit made in a month.
Putting on her best professional face, She stepped up beside Penelope and smiled "I just wanted to say congratulations," she said, breathing in deep... Three... no, four. Damnit. "Aaron is a very lucky man."
"Why thank you-"
"Very lucky that he doesn't have the same enhanced senses that I do. You should have showered first, there are at least four different male scents on you, the kind that you'd find at an Orion pleasure barge." As Penelope went pale, Sanjit just leaned closely, whispering. "Aaron is my brother. We served in battle together, we nearly died together, we buried people a hell of a lot better than you together. You break his heart? I break you." With that she leaned back and smiled. "Good luck and long life," she said, before turning on her heel and heading straight for the chocolate fondue fountain.
Aaron was a bit more ambivalent about this than he thought he should be. He'd been waiting on this for years... and yet now that it's here... or not here, just the engagement. He sighed, looking over his shoulder as he left Penelope and the Denali Ambassador talking, then followed the servant back into the Admiral's office. Trust the old man never to put pleasure ahead of his business of getting himself ahead. Even before he had gone to Starfleet Academy he wasn't supposed to refer to his father in any other way than his rank. He secretly believed that The Admiral had pajamas with rank insignia on them. Pausing at the door, he knocked.
"Enter!"
He stepped through and saluted, respecting the rank if not the one wearing it. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"At ease, Lieutenant." The Admiral was looking out the window then turned "I just talked to personnel. They confirmed your promotion below the zone to Lieutenant Commander, effective on the date you report to your job at the new Colonial Enforcement office."
"Sir, we've been over this. That is a pure political hack job that I have no interest in accepting-"
"You will do as you're ORDERED Lieutenant. This is good for your career and the family name."
"No, sir. I have a job that matters, with Admiral LaRoca."
His father laughed at that. "That maniac is going down, boy. He's going to go down so hard the crater he will leave will be visible from the Moon."
"With all due respect, that Maniac has been the only one fighting the threats trying to destroy not just the Federation, but the entire Quadrant!"
"My god... he's gotten to you." The Admiral just shook his head. "It's out of your hands, and you need some time away to determine where your priorities lie."
"My priorities lie with the Federation."
"You've got a TRIBBLE poor way of showing that, boy. Hanging around with genetic monsters? Fighting, almost dying for damned spoonheads? Working with Klingons and those Moabite madmen?"
Aaron just bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, his fists quivering with fury. The Admiral turned back towards the window. "It's out of your hands. You will report to Paris as soon as you're off medical leave."
"The only way I will set foot in Paris is as a civilian, sir."
"That ...can be arranged. You're dismissed."
He turned and pivoted, heading out of the office, only to collide with Penelope who had followed him after her talk with Sanjit. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there sweet-"
"Did I hear him right? You're turning down Paris to chase LaRoca's imaginary monsters?" she said angrily.
Inside the office, the Admiral smiled. She would make the boy see reason.
Lt. Zetaz was carefully sweeping the room, using his empathic senses like a metal detector. Whenever he got a strong negative wave, he knew he was getting warm.
Ignore me... you don't see me... He projected a sort of telepathic 'invisibility cloak' around him has he worked his way toward the tables where the heavy hitters were sitting. He loitered unseen with three members of the all-powerful Starfleet Procurement Committee looking right through him, before he decided that none of them was the infiltrator.
He tuned carefully to anyone within earshot of Ennari or Ryoko, who were talking up the Moab secession as a 'wake-up call' for the Federation's ideals. Annoyance, disgust, half-hearted agreement? He opened his PADD to make a note next to the Earth/Oceania councilwoman's profile.
What's that!? He felt it again, a strong, negative push... the councilwoman from Singapore started to waver. Where is that coming from? He went to the other side of the buffet table, homing in on the telepathic downer.
Ignore me, I'm not here... The negative emotions were turned off as he approached. He could feel someone watching him, trying just as hard as he was to remain invisible, in the domain of thought. Which table are you at? He looked around at the groups of people nearby, all engaged in idle conversation, all ignoring him... One of you knows I'm here... one of you can feel me...
The headache hit him like a bat to the skull. The telepathic attack was so vicious, so sudden - it had to be an Undine. Where are you, assh*le? He gritted his teeth and staggered back, involuntarily retreating from- THAT table! I know where you're sitting! He forced himself to focus, and identify his suspects. The mental assault intensified.
He dropped his telepathic invisibility wall and called for help, looking for Ennari or...
"Are you alright, sir?" a tuxedoed waiter asked.
"Ah, sudden headache," Zetaz announced, gratefully aware that he was gathering stares.
"Why don't you sit down. I will bring you an aspirin."
"Thanks." Lountu Zetaz could feel the headache receding already. That's right. You don't want to cause a disturbance. You don't want to call any attention to yourself... The Undine who'd turned herself in to Admiral LaRoca wasn't the only one who was running scared. You don't want my boss to come looking for you, do you?
"Are you okay?" Ennari asked, sitting at down next to him at an otherwise-empty table.
"I will be." The waiter brought him aspirin, he said his thanks and downed it with a glass of Bollinger. Then he pulled out his PADD. "I've got our short list."
Well. That went well, Aaron thought as he all but stormed back into the ballroom forty-five minutes later. Everything was going down in flames... yet... it was oddly a relief. He looked around, despite her height her uniform would stand out, but he didn't see her anywhere. Perhaps she was out with the Ambassador and the Captain.
The two of them were out on the Veranda talking when Aaron walked up. "You look a bit wild eyed, Lieutenant," Chanan remarked. "Is everything allright?"
"I've been threatened with being thrown out of Starfleet, my fiancee called it off, turns out she's been sleeping with Captain Alfonso Vetinari and Rear Admiral Hadley, and things couldn't be better."
The Captain and Ambassador looked at each other, then back at Aaron. "I'm sorry, son," Naomi said. "Rest assured that I'm not going to let the first part of that happen."
He just shrugged. "That's not as important, where's Sanjit?"
"She... left about half an hour ago," Chanan replied.
"What? Oh damnit..." he sighed and slumped into a chair.
"Don't you dare make the same mistake I did Aaron!" He looked up as his grandmother snapped at him. "Don't just sit there, go after her. And when you find her... maybe we should talk about Goralis. It's changed you."
Sitting up, he stared at his grandmother for a moment, then nodded, getting to his feet. "Only if you're ready to talk about what happened over Betazed."
Naomi just smiled. "I'll bring the booze, you go find your friend."
Forgotten scars remind us of
Too much war, too little love
Beneath the fault-line truth to burn
Within the page so much to learn
Wounded birds look to us
Who to heal, who to trust
Bring down the giants old and new
Strike up the band and waltz on through
I was shaking with a fever
When the last good horse went down
We were just a couple dancing
Where a thousand kings were crowned
Shaking with a fever
Before the white flag flew
And the ballroom opened up to us
And the dancers danced on through
Love in ruins, torn apart
Victims of the careless heart
Skating on the cold grey ice
Before the flood toward the light
Muddy boots to shiny shoes
Headlines screaming out the news
From dirt and damp to hardwood floors
Beyond the burned out broken walls
I was shaking with a fever
When the last good horse went down
We were just a couple dancing
Where a thousand kings were crowned
Shaking with a fever
Before the white flag flew
And the ballroom opened up to us
And the dancers danced on through
I was shaking with a fever
When the last good horse went down
We were just a couple dancing
Where a thousand sons were crowned
Shaking with a fever
Before the white flag flew
And the ballroom opened up to us
And the dancers danced on through
And the dancers danced on through
Elton John - "The New Fever Waltz"
"Excuse me Lieutenant, but have you seen Lieutenant Kaur go past here?"
Lt. Zetaz looked up from his PADD. The young Human officer - the one this whole gala was supposedly in honor of - was hurt and confused and troubled. He didn't need to be an empath to tell that. The Betazoid had seen Sanjit heading out past him earlier, while he was waiting for Ennari to return from the restroom.
Zetaz thought for a moment before answering. Generally, he ignored any emotions tied to romance - that was people's private business, after all. But the emotion coming off the young human lieutenant was strong enough he could have read him several kilometers away. "She left a few minutes ago headed towards the veranda, looking for the Denali ambassador."
He knew he shouldn't interfere, but- perhaps just a little push? "I think you two should have a talk... about how you really feel."
Aaron wasn't sure where to find her at - it was dark, and she'd had a half hour head start. But on the other hand... she didn't know where she was, and had been from what he'd been told hitting the chocolate - he knew what effect that had on Denali. Still, there was the most obvious place to look, the stables. She'd never seen horses before - the closest things they had to those on her homeworld were six legged, the sizeof a shuttle bus, and carnivorous - and was fascinated by them.
Fortunately he knew the way blindfolded, having grown up here back when his father The Admiral was merely The Captain ... and not quite as bad to deal with. Ah well. Aaron didn't turn on the lights, he didn't need to, as there was a lump on the back of one of mother's horses - he wasn't even sure which one it was, the chestnut mare? he thought as he came closer.
He leaned against the half door to the stable. "Not exactly a great escape."
Sanjit didn't even raise her head. "Felt too dizzy," she said. "Sorry if I'm not supposed to be up here, but she didn't mind."
"No," he said as he reached out to pet the mare's muzzle. "She's always been good with people."
She nodded, then took a deep breath. She had to tell him, even if he hated her for it. "Aaron, there's something you need to know..." damnit... I couldn't tell him how I feel... just gotta stick to the facts...
"What, that Penelope is a *****, my father is a would be tyrant, and the only member of my family worth a damn is my grandmother?"
"Wa... wait, what?"
He carefully climbed over the door into the stall. "We had it out, both Penelope and 'the Admiral'. Seems they both think I am throwing away my career by working for Admiral LaRoca, instead of taking the job at the Colonial Enforcement office - which, I don't know what they do but by the name, I don't think I wish to be associated with them."
Her head was still fuzzy - while their augmented physiology meant that they did burn through the intoxication from chocolate faster, it just made the hangover arrive faster as well. "I don'... what are you talking about?"
"That, as my grandmother has stated most succinctly, I have changed after Goralis. I'm not the shallow idiot who was so besotted with his fiancee that didn't even see that she would happily crawl in the sack with anyone who had four pips on their collar. I don't want that. I don't want to be a paper pusher in Paris, I want a career with meaning, a life with meaning. I don't want to be with someone I can't trust to watch my back in a firefight."
He was nervous... but then remembered what Lieutenant Zetaz had advised him. Talk about how he really felt - that was easy to agree to the Betazoid, totally different once he'd found her. Still... he'd faced... hell, they'd both faced death before. "I thought she was what I wanted, but she's what my family thought I should aspire to. I was wrong."
Sanjit felt like she couldn't breathe, she was so nervous. "W... well, what do you want then?"
"Someone who isn't afraid to tell me when I'm being a moron, who is intelligent, who can go toe to toe with monsters while I snipe them," he said. Seeing the look in her eyes, he just raised a hand. "Don't say anything, don't decide anything right now. You're still wobbly from the chocolate."
The door opened and Trevor stuck his head in. "I see you found her, Master Aaron. I have taken the liberty of having the shuttle prepared."
Aaron smiled at the butler. "Thank you, Trevor," he said, turning back to Sanjit, holding his hand up to help her down off the mare. She accepted the help and slid down mostly gracefully, the chocolate still making her a bit weak-legged.
"Sho where are we going?"
"To get you some food and some coffee to sober you up before we talk more on this." he said as they headed out of the stables, hand in hand.
Las Vegas, NV, Church of Elvis 24 hour Waffle house and Wedding Chapel - four hours later
It didn't fit - it had been sized for Penelope. But that was ok, it wasn't exactly something that was regulation with her uniform, and she could just as easily wear it on a chain around her neck or get it resized if she really wanted. He'd just wanted to talk once she was sober... but the place Captain Taylor had suggested for having the best waffles in the alpha quadrant also had other services... and after talking over food... neither one of them were wanting to let this pass before something else happened.
The man standing in front of Aaron and Sanjit wore his white jumpsuit and rhinestones proudly as he got to the last part. "Bah the power invested in me by tha United Federation of Planets, District of Nevada, city of Las Vegas and the Church of Elvis, ah now pronounce you husband and wife. Thank ya, thank ya verra much."
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
His wife's a real "treat," too. Part of me would like to see how she would react to the Azarovs and their son. I bet you she'd get the vapors, finding out these highly educated scientists are believers. On Earth. OMG.
For all that Naomi has suffered, I hope she can take pleasure in knowing she had to have been a critical part of making Aaron the man that he became.
(BTW, just as a cultural note for anyone who may be wondering, the reason Sanjit is not wearing any Cardassian decorations isn't ingratitude on their part...it's that the Cardassians do not generally believe in wearing them. So Sanjit would have something from them...it would just be more appropriate for display in one's quarters or office instead.)
That Undine on the Council is trouble. I wonder if there's one on the Fed Supreme Court, too, given the irrationality of thinking they can do retroactive "take backs" on independence already given. Whatever Moab has done, that ruling sure was not the right way to go about things...
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
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Perfect. :cool:
Keep it coming!
Hey you
Out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?
Hey you
Standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?
Hey you
Don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in
Without a fight
Hey you
Out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?
Hey you
With your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you
Would you help me to carry this stone?
Open your heart
I'm coming home
But it was only a fantasy
The wall was too high, as you can see
No matter how he tried, he could not break free
And the worms ate into his brain
Hey you
Out there on the road
Always doing what you're told
Can you help me?
Hey you
Out there, beyond the wall
Breaking bubbles in the hall
Can you help me?
Hey you
Don't tell me there's no hope at all
Together we stand
Divided we fall
(We fall. We fall. We fall. We fall...)
Roger Waters and David Gilmour of Pink Floyd - "Hey You"
P A R T. T H R E E :
B E Y O N D . T H E . W A L L
Jesu LaRoca's house, Seacliff, San Francisco, Earth - 2412.07.21.0225
"She can't simply 'not' exist. Commander Obruchev said she's worked with her before."
"All I know is the records I have access to," Hooper's disembodied voice stated, "and she doesn't appear to be in any of them."
"Hey, Zoo?" Rusty called from the back of the office. "Are you still workin'?"
"Yeah..." Jesu checked the chronometer. "I thought you were already asleep, bro."
Rusty shook his head. "If you can't sleep, then neither can I." He pulled up a chair next to his brother at the desk. "What's goin' on?"
"We're trying to figure out just who this Admiral Hayate works for," Jesu told him. "But according to Hooper, she doesn't work for Starfleet at all."
"More than that, she doesn't appear to exist at all," Hooper said. "I can find no records of any person by the name of Hayate Yagami in any Federation database within my scope of access."
Jesu cleared his throat. "Hooper, perhaps you should try and... broaden your scope of access."
Hooper didn't respond for several seconds. "You mean... you want me to hack? Is that what you're saying?"
"A little bit. Start with SPECWARCOM's classified server cluster at Coronado, and if that comes up dry, try the SI servers at Langley Station."
Hooper was silent for another long moment, then he said. "I can do that. But I don't think I... Jesu, I have no experience with this. I am accustomed to protecting files, not stealing them. An organic who's a skilled net slicer could probably find these files faster than I could, and would be less likely to be caught."
"You're saying you don't want to do it?"
"It's not that I don't want to help you, I just don't think I would be much help. Imagine you want someone to steal a particular jewel - would you rather have an experienced but aging jewel thief do it, or would you send Barrister? Who could figure out how to bypass any security and smash open any container but has no idea what he's doing or how to not leave clues behind?"
Jesu digested this. "You have someone in mind?"
"Alice knows how. She's crossed the looking glass before - a lot," Hooper said. "And she has every reason to be subtle and clean with it."
"Alice..." Jesu put the phrases together. "Alice Okuda... Sander?"
"She can do it, she's been in those systems before," Hooper told him. "Successfully... and she owes you."
"It's too late to call her now," Rusty pointed out.
"Yeah. Okay, Hooper, just put together a list of all the systems you've already searched, and I'll send that to Alice when I talk to her in the morning."
"Alright, Jesu. Please try to get some sleep."
"I don't need sleep. I have a well-cultivated caffeine dependency."
"According to my medical database, that's a poor substitute."
Jesu stood up and stretched. "Goodnight, Hooper."
Port Blakely, WA - 0831 hours
Alice Okuda-Sander's face formed a small frown when she saw who was calling in the middle of her breakfast. "Admiral LaRoca? You're not going to drag Marq away again, are you?"
"No, actually I'm calling to collect a favor from you. How secure is this line?"
"Give me a sec." She tapped something into a PADD she had at the table. "Okay, we're fairly secure now. I have Atticus in a privacy mode and this call is now running through a randomized encryption protocol."
"Is Marq around?"
"He's still in bed." She grinned mischievously. "I haven't let him get much sleep since he's been home."
"Good for you."
She turned serious, "But if you wanted to talk to Marq, you'd be talking to Marq. Since you're not talking to Marq, it's because the favor you want to collect is something you don't want him involved in."
"You're right, of course." LaRoca leaned toward his viewer. "I need you to slice some info for me. Info from-"
She held up a finger, cutting him off. "NOT on line, Admiral. Come by for dinner, I'll make Fajitas with Sriracha and white pepper salad." She waggled a finger. "First rule - there's no such thing as a totally secure line... And bring some of that paint-thinner you drink; if you're needing me to check on a security leak it's going to be an all-nighter."
Starfleet Command, Presidio, San Francisco - 21 July, 0948 hours
"So they just up and got married?" Spitz-Reader-Commander had been too busy to catch the latest gossip.
Rusty shrugged. "Apparently it seemed like the thing to do at the time - the middle of the night after a bad party and finding out your fiancee's a lying, cheating wh*re seems to me like a bad time to make any kind of major life decision, but that's what they've done."
"Well, tell him the honeymoon is postponed," Jesu said. "If he's feeling well enough to run off to Vegas and get hitched - to a Denali girl, no less - I've got plenty of things my new deputy assistant can be doing." Admiral LaRoca and his entourage were making their way through Starfleet HQ up to the CSC's office by a roundabout route - Jesu wanted to make people know he was back in town to do business. "Also, get them a security detail. Denali is still high up on somebody's sh*t list."
"How discreet?" Rusty asked, as he pulled out his PADD.
"Not at all. Make it super-obvious that those people are not to be f*cked with. Oezlel and Raastz, if they're available."
"Oezlel's on my stand-by list. Raastz is in Memphis..."
"What's she doing in Memphis?" the Admiral wondered.
"Shore leave," his brother explained. "Sticks is leading a tour of the great barbecue restaurants. They started outside of Austin at a place called the Salt Lick-"
"Far be it from me to come between a Gorn and a rack of ribs..." Jesu thought a moment. "On second thought, discreet would be better, where I'm sending them, and Zetaz already knows them..."
"I'll send Petty Officer Satik along for discreet muscle and an extra telepathic tripwire." Rusty made a note as they approached the inner sanctum of the Chief of Starfleet Command.
The Fleet Admiral's office was a blizzard of ensigns and junior lieutenants running about on errands, dealing with paperwork, and apparently in some sort of crisis. Most of them didn't even notice the arrival of the Vice Admiral and two commanders. One aide stopped mid-stride to salute and was promptly run over by a Bolian staffer rushing somewhere with a stack of PADDs.
"What's the rush... Commander?" Rusty asked the Bolian as he scrambled to catch the PADDs, while trying to step around the prone ensign.
"Admiral!" the Bolian straightened, comedically trying to salute while gathering his burden in one hand. "There's been a... situation, sir..."
Jesu frowned. "What kind of 'situation'?" he asked.
The Bolian paled a bit. "Initial reports indicate a class-twelve entity was approaching Memory Alpha sixteen hours ago - we lost contact about twelve hours ago, but the fleet units sent to investigate-"
"We're losing ships out there," Fleet Admiral Magda Rogachev's voice echoed in the room, as she strode out of her office, "So far, eleven vessels, but we've got confirmation on what it is... Hello Jesu. Nice day for a visit."
"I'll send a couple of my ships if you can make five minutes for me," Jesu said, giving her his best 'good soldier' smile.
She sighed. "I'd send all your ships, if they were in position," she told him. "But they're not, at least, according to reports I got this morning on operational status vessels in the Alpha Centauri sector. It's a Crystal, Jesu, our best imagery of it was from a KDF-allied Romulan warbird that also caught a small force of Tholians flying an apparent escort of the thing."
She caught a look at the wheels turning inside LaRoca's head. "You can't fight all of our monsters, Jesu. We're sending everything we have in the sector at it, and so are the Romulans. Your ships won't get there in time to do more than clean up."
"I'll send the Meg anyway," Jesu told her. "By the sounds of things, you'll have a lot of cleaning up to do."
She sighed. "Well... good. Right now the heaviest ship we've got in range is the Sammy Nick, and they're a thirty year old Sovereign. Under a green captain..."
Admiral LaRoca grimaced as he typed an order into his PADD. "I have friends on that ship... Listen, Ma'am, I can come back later if this is a bad time, but I've got something important on my plate, too."
She gave him a tired, worn out look. "It's always a bad time, Jesu, so we'll make some time now... at least, until the next crisis comes up." She motioned for him to follow her into her office. "Good job out at Goralis, by the way," she said once the doors were closed. "Your after-action report read like something out of Lovecraft, but you stopped it."
"We did, yes," LaRoca sat down, with his officers standing at ease on either side of him.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "And now, you're here to ask me for a favor."
"A couple of favors, actually. Little ones."
"What do you need?" she asked, then she added, "Let me... guess... your allies at Goralis is one, what's the other?"
"We need to arrange another retirement," he told her. "This one's a civilian, Council member or Member-level ambassador." He tapped his PADD on her desktop and sent her the files Zetaz had flagged. "We have four suspects. I'll work on getting Reader and Rusty in the room with them but I'll need a cover for what will happen after that."
The Fleet Admiral from Vladivostok spread out the files and looked over each of them in turn. Councilor Mitch Dawson, representative of the North America 17th District (which included San Francisco) for the last thirty-odd years and chair of the Federation Budget Committee; a noted philanthropist and often in the social limelight, currently on his fifth future ex-wife. Councilor Marta Stone of Centaurus, relatively new to the Council but already an influential voice on the Starfleet Procurement Committee. Ambassador Ledarr of Capella and Vice Ambassador Tom Sloane of New Wales Colony.
"Hmmm... tricky... but doable," she told him. "A lot more doable than what I was afraid you were going to ask on behalf of those secessionist troops." She pressed on, "I'm really glad you didn't ask me to intervene in that mess, that you didn't ask me to help you find a way to lift the blockade or influence the Federation Council... because I would have to tell you 'no.'"
Jesu frowned at her use of the word 'secessionist' - when he last saw her two-and-a-half months ago, she was a staunch supporter of Moab Independence. "I'll work out the influence myself. And the blockade's only legal as long as the Council says it is."
She sighed. "You don't even want to hear why I would tell you 'no'?" she asked. "It's important we fully understand one another on this."
"I can see which way the wind is blowing," Jesu told her.
Magda frowned. "It's not the wind, Jesu," she told him. "It's not even what is doable versus what is not doable..." She passed him a PADD. "It's that their little experiment in independence is self-destructing faster than any invasion in history. When it looked like they might make a go of it, I favoured letting them. But all the indicators are saying they're going to start shooting one another, and soon, it will spread... and you saw what we are dealing with outside the door right now." She looked deeply worried, as she added, "I wish... I wish it were otherwise, but everything points to a failed state situation out there, and the only hope for anyone in that sector, is if Okeg lets us move to stabilize things before it becomes a bloodbath on the level of Turkana IV spread across interstellar distances."
Maybe if someone wasn't over there trying to de-stabilize things with MACO tech... Rusty thought.
I wouldn't bring that up until we have some proof, Reader cautioned. Right now, we only have your father's word to go on, and his is not one that they will trust.
Right... Jesu cleared his throat. "I still think Federation interference will only make things worse," he told her. "Stirring up resentment and issues dating back to the Maquis ruling."
She nodded tiredly. "I know - da... there are no good options left, I'm afraid, but angry people get to be angry because they are still alive to be angry, and anger can fade with time once things are stable again, after all, it happened with the Ukraine in the two-thousands, and Alaska in the twenty-thirties... and right now, the only hope those people have left, is for Starfleet to cool things off." She raised her eyes. "I wish I could send you out there. Huntington's a good man, but he's too much of an idealist to speak with those people."
"Well, since you won't send me to enforce a blockade that I see is as illegal and you won't back me up when I go explain things to the Council, I have another favor to ask of you."
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. "Shoot."
"I need information about someone - A Starfleet admiral who doesn't show up in any records, but I know she exists and has worked with SPECWAR."
"What is her name?"
"Hayate Yagami. From what I've heard, she sounds like a rogue operator. I need you to get me any information on her that you can access."
Her eyes unfocused. "Da... I can do that..." She focused on Jesu. "Get your suspects narrowed down, I'll cover you for that," she said quietly. "Be sure you take some steps to make that coverage work." Then, she took out a small bottle, and took a swig, "And I swear, Jesu, I hope you're right about your friends, but I can't base my decisions on slim hopes... Evidence, now... that I can work with."
"I'll see if I can find you something." Jesu got up. "Thanks, Mags."
"When this crystalline crisis has passed, we should do dinner," she told him. "I would like to hear from you what happened at Goralis - the things that didn't go into the official report."
"I'll keep a couple of evenings open in my calendar next week," he told her. He exited her office, and Rusty and Spitz-Reader fell in beside him.
They conversed silently as they worked their way downstairs to LaRoca's office in Starfleet Security. Jesu, I picked up no signs of the feelings of attraction you claim Rogachev harbors for you, Spitz-Reader told him.
She's just stressed, buddy. Besides, you heard her ask for a date.
I am very sure she intends no romantic interaction with you, Spitz insisted. Besides the emotional cues, there are certain scents which I did not pick up.
Yeah, Zoo, it didn't smell like she 'has the hots for you' as you put it, Rusty chimed in.
Ah, you guys just need to catch her on a day when she doesn't have our impending doom on her mind. He opened the door to his office, which was sparsely decorated and little-used. "'Bring her evidence,' she says," he said aloud as he sat down behind his desk. "Short of taking a trip to Moab I'm not sure how I can do that."
"We should look for evidence of interference from our side," Reader suggested. "This is either Quinn's idea of a black op, or else the brainchild of some joker in Paris - either way, it shouldn't be hard to find someone who knows what's going on."
"And then what? Beat a confession out of them?" Rusty asked, hopefully.
"We'll need to come up with something more subtle than that," his brother said, hiding a smile. "But Reader's right, there's no way an operation to destabilize the Confederacy can be kept secret, not if they're using Starfleet assets..."
Rusty's PADD pinged to tell him he had a new message, and he checked it. "Huh."
"What is it?"
"You know how you told me to tell Taylor he's back on duty? Funny coincidence, seems they're in town. Taylor says they need to talk to you, it's urgent, and asks if you've had lunch..." Rusty looked up from his PADD and shrugged. "It's a decent place they're suggesting, Scoma's on the bay."
"Tell him we'll be there," the Admiral said, getting up. "Anything that can drag someone away on their honeymoon has to be important."
Scoma's, Pier 47 - Twenty-two minutes later
It was quiet at this time of the day, not many people showing up before the lunch rush, though despite the fact that a Denali would tend to stand out like a sore thumb... there was no sign of Sanjit. At least he thought. The tables were along the dock, and at the end of the dock was their newly married officer, sitting with a darkly tan woman wearing a bright yellow sundress and matching large brimmed hat.
"For someone who just got married, and he's already having lunch with someone else?" Jesu wondered.
Rusty just shook his head and grinned, having caught the scents on the air as they walked up. "Didn't recognize you, Lt. Kaur," he said. "Nice dress."
Sanjit had her hair worn down, her large brimmed hat not only protecting her from the sun but hiding her ears which were tucked in, her hair covering them as well. "Figured it wouldn't be good to be conspicuous, if you know what I mean," she said, looking totally human, and rather pretty except for the scars - but then KDF uniforms, unlike her current dress, weren't meant to be flattering.
Jesu peeled off his sunglasses and blinked, then shook his head, chuckling as he sat down. He'd known she was sharp from the handling of the Corpsman Leung incident on 75-Tau... she was definitely a better match for Lt. Taylor than 'Lady' Penelope Grahm. "I thought just-married people usually spent their time in their hotel room," he teased, prompting a giggle from Sanjit and a blush from Taylor.
"Ehm, yes, well, we'll get back to that, sir," he said. "But there's some information we picked up last night that we think you really need to know about." He quieted when he saw the waiter walk up, switching to small talk while they placed their orders. One of the advantages of being the son of a Starfleet staffer, Taylor knew about Scoma's secret fresh seafood menu.
"Allright," Jesu said once the waiter had left them. "What's so important that you'd come all the way here to track me down instead of just calling?"
"I had a bit of a falling out with my father. He'd managed to push through a promotion to Lieutenant Commander for me, which I must note, I am far below the zone for. I just made full Lieutenant not six months ago. This was contingent with my accepting his job offer in Colonial Enforcement in Paris." Aaron shook his head. "Told him the only way that I'll set foot in Paris is as a civilian. Things went downhill from there."
"Getting promoted that fast can happen," Rusty said, glancing at his brother, "but it's usually as a battlefield commission. It takes some serious pull to get something like that done with your time in grade."
"And your father is just a pompous blowhard," Jesu pointed out, "no offense."
"None taken, Admiral - but he's a pompous blowhard that someone is listening to. My grandmother mentioned one of his latest schemes; I made a call this morning to an acquaintance from the Academy to verify. He was given his discharge papers three days ago. My father has pushed through mandatory Collins rule enforcement - one of his pet peeves. Every person from Hoffman's Folly, whether cadet or captain, is being booted from the fleet for not meeting 'Human' weight standards."
The two brothers shared a look, then the conversation paused as the waiter brought their drinks. Once they were alone again... "That... that's stupid. one of the best combat commanders we had out there at Goralis is from there, and he's one of the best scientific minds in the galaxy."
"It's worse than that. I did a bit more checking this morning. Did you know that Admiral Taylor-Smythe is leaving his current position at the end of the month, to take a position where he will be responsible for planning combat tactics and doctrine? A man who's never even fired a shot in mild annoyance, much less anger."
It had been bad timing, for Jesu to take a swallow of his drink right then. Fortunately the spray missed them - and Spitz had learned not to sit across from the Admiral. "No f*cking way."
Sanjit slid over a PADD. "Official Starfleet announcement, sir. Then there's the matter of just where Admiral Tightpants wanted to send Aaron... Colonial Enforcement office. It was set up during Cave's tenure as Foreign Minister... but like a lot of things, no government program ever gets canceled. Just re-tasked, if that even."
Jesu swore as he read the release. "How the hell... an idiot like that can do a lot of damage in a position like this one."
"It's worse than that, sir..." Sanjit said. "I couldn't narrow it down... but I think there was an Undine there at the party."
"I know. Zetaz told me... How could you tell?"
Sanjit just shrugged. "I remember scents, thats why I'm a good tracker. When I was looking for Corpsman Leung... when I found her there was a faint, strange, bitter scent that I couldn't place. I picked that up again last night." She blushed a bit. "Unfortunately, I was a bit upset when i noticed it, and a bit... what's the word?"
"Drunk?" Rusty suggested.
"Dunno if that fits, but it's close enough. Anyway I didn't remember until we woke up this morning. Probably for the best; I remember from your holo sims, Commander, that going hand-to-hand with those isn't exactly a good idea, and I didn't have anything more dangerous than a cake fork on me."
"I don't know, I think you'd still be pretty dangerous with a fork," Rusty replied. "But yes, going alone versus one of those is a bad idea. Even I wouldn't face them alone unless I had to."
"Also, Admiral," Taylor continued. "My father had some interesting things to say about you. He called you a maniac... and said that you were 'going down so hard, that the crater would be visible from the moon.' I think he means it... and if he can get that Collins rule sh*te pushed through, and weasel his way onto the Combat Doctrine Board, he's obviously not working alone, sir."
Jesu mulled that over as their meals arrived. Rusty had a very concerned look on his face that the Lieutenants wouldn't recognize. Through Reader he told his brother That scenario Ennari and Hacksaw thought of the other night...
If someone's trying to set me up they're doing a damn careless job of it, Jesu thought as he sliced into his white seabass. Once the waiter was out of earshot he said "If your dad's in on some sort of plot against me, or if he just found out about it in passing, then the people behind it are nobody to be afraid of. Starfleet's full of political gladhanders and stuffed shirts who have no business being in uniform, especially in time of war. Dealing with useless dimwits is an occupational hazard for people like us."
"Normally, I'd agree sir-but a lot of the people there last night, who he counts as 'friends'... are people with power. Enough to put him in a position where he can cause real problems"
"Hmm." Reader stirred thoughtfully. "The Klingons have a saying about people like that. Roughly translated: 'There are few things more dangerous than a resourceful idiot.' If your father is such a buy'Sup yIntagh as you say, we should keep an eye on him."
"More importantly, keep some eyes on his friends," the Admiral said. "Which is where you guys come in. Lieutenant Taylor, I'm sending you to Paris-"
It was Aaron Taylor's turn to do a spit-take.
"...Officially, you'll be my attache in Minister Ryoko's office," LaRoca went on. "Your real assignment will be to find out what this Colonial Enforcement office does, who's behind it, and what their connection is to your dad, and how, when, where, and why they are going to cause problems for me. Zetaz and another one of my security guys will be watching you guys's backs."
"What do you need me to do?" Sanjit asked. "I know technically I don't work for the Federation... but I do know that you and the General do work together often. I wouldn't presume to assume his mind... but I'd think if I could contact him securely... he'd want me to assist somehow."
"You'll help Aaron, and as an 'official KDF observer' you might get access he can't. I'll get Ssharki to cut retroactive orders for you... in fact, follow me back to my office, and you can talk to him yourself."
Temple Beth Am, Los Angeles, CA - 1517 hours
Zaki's PADD beeped, and he answered it. "Admiral?"
"Can you talk privately?" Jesu LaRoca asked.
"Yeah, I'm at the office. What do you need?"
"Evidence," the Admiral said. "Something I can give to the CSC that proves that someone on our side is interfering with yours. Work with Heywood and my dad - find out if they got serial numbers on that MACO stuff they found."
"That won't prove much-"
"I know you guys used a lot of stolen Starfleet tech; do you know how to run lot numbers through the Req queue? Like if you got a lot number on a rifle, would you be able to find out where it was made, who ordered it, who it was supposed to be delivered to?"
"Lot and serial and anybody with a QM code on their ident can tell you where it originated, and where it was sent," Zaki told him. "It just so happens one of my... I can run it, I'll need to borrow something though."
"What?"
"A uniform, and some Chief Petty Officer's pips... and a working commbadge," Zaki told him. "The terminals can't be accessed by remote, so I'll need to get into a facility with a T-One-Niner connection and a lot of extra people so security's distracted and bored."
Jesu thought for a minute. "How soon can you get to Mojave Spaceport?"
"I can be there tonight."
"Daylight would be better... Go to the Rutan Museum first thing in the morning. My friend Hank will find you there."
Port Blakely, WA - 1957 hours...
"I don't understand why we have to do this tonight, Alice," Marq said. "I thought we were going to be having 'alone time' for the rest of the week."
Alice stirred the peppers and onions around in the skillet, clearing out room for the strips of meat. "Okay, hon, I'll level: your friend needs my help, and we owe him," she said. "Since I'm not going to California for a business meet, he's coming up here - he wouldn't have called if it wasn't an emergency, and he'd have called you if it was something you're supposed to be able to officially know about." She sliced a strip of the flank steak to see if it was seared through. "Besides, it's something we married people do - inviting friends in for dinner."
"Fajitas... and Sriracha..." Marq's eyes narrowed. "You're slicing again."
"Just doing a contractor-security check," she said. "No adventures, nothing illegal. I just got my identity back." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Your friend wouldn't ask me to break the law - not without a damn good reason. Now go call our guests to the table."
"You also had him come here because you're going to dive the system, aren't you?" Marq asked her. "Not Elcars Cowboy, you're planning to go inside."
"Don't worry... I'll be careful. Crystal Palace Three's about as solid as I could build it. And fajitas need to be served HOT - call the Admiral and his brother to the table."
Marq didn't look reassured, but he picked up the bottle of wine that had been breathing nearby and went out to the dining room. "Dinner will be served in just a minute, sir."
"It smells delicious," Rusty remarked, leading the way to the table
"If I'd had a few days I could've made Pho instead," Alice said, emerging with a still-glowing skillet. "But... lead time."
"You actually made it?" Jesu asked.
"Well, yeah... the house system has better things to be doing than my other hobbies," Alice said. "Cooked with the finest replicated-antique-cookware from farmers market and garden ingredients... and a little something picked up from a guy I know in Silvana who sold stuff to 'old me' in Portland... the meat's real."
"I thought so," Rusty rumbled, gazing hungrily at the fajitas.
"Fantastico!" Jesu exclaimed.
Alice laid a small device on the table next to the candles, lit one, and activated it. "Now, Admiral, we're actually 'secure'," she said. "Eat up, and tell me about this problem of yours... and don't worry about risking Marq - just calling here earlier today did that."
Marq glanced at the device. "Alice, wasn't that on your workbench the other night?"
"Jabbertalk, yeah," she said. "Anyone listening through ATTICUS or by remote is hearing boring dinner conversation."
Jesu looked back and forth between the couple, shrugged, and said, "I need you dig around secure Starfleet servers for any and all records related to someone who Starfleet is pretending doesn't exist. Admiral Hayate Yagami."
Alice pursed her lips. "Someone made her an 'unperson' too?"
"Not like what they did to you - at least, I don't think so. All I know is she was working with SPECWAR as recently as last year, she's a friend of Minister Ryoko's, and not even the CSC can access her files."
She rolled some of her ingredients into a soft, corn tortilla. "Tricky," she said. "This has to do with the shifters?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I need your help so I can find out."
Camano Shores - Two Hours Later
"You set it up here?" Jesu asked, as Marq parked the car (a '65 Lincoln Continental with a Marauder V8) at the Sander family's local beach house.
Alice shrugged. "Yeah. I can set it up anywhere with a good trunkline connection. But here, in the event of a traceback, it gives Atticus enough time to scramble the trail back to the main house." She led the group up to the door and unlocked it. "Also, the sensor-pings from the Whidbey weather station and Oak Harbor Control mean plenty of signal noise, and the relay station at Everett connects to pretty much everywhere..."
"And here I just thought it was a nice place to spend summers when we were kids," Admiral LaRoca said, as Rusty absorbed familiar sights and smells.
Alice produced the 'rig' from her purse - it looked like an interrogation device cobbled up by a Romulan with a Borg fetish - and access to a Federation scrapyard. Either that or one of those Betazoid bird-cage hats. "Crystal Palace Three," Alice told them. "Or at least, part of it. The rest is in the lab, where Atticus can keep an eye on her."
"Her?" Marq asked.
"You were busy..." Alice explained. "I got pretty far with Cameron's design phase, but she's still a young entity... or will be, when she's reached Singularity." She sat down in a recliner that was sitting next to an impressive-looking multi-monitored computer terminal and started putting on the rig's connectors. "Children need babysitters, and if I recall, Atticus did a fine job with you three..."
"Is this thing... even a little bit safe?" Jesu asked, eyeing the contraption.
"Safe as houses," Alice said. "It's not prone to feedback like Crystal Palace One was, and it's got built in safeties I had to devise on the fly for Crystal Palace Two - the one we built for Project Looking Glass."
"How does it work?" Rusty asked.
"I'm putting a copy of myself in a data-shell; she's going to do the actual entry and bring it back, the displays will show you what she sees," Alice told them. "I've done it a few times now, once she's finished, she comes back to me, and we... ah... 'reintegrate.' If the connection is broken before that, she's out there and I can't reel her in... but Starfleet's codemonkeys can't touch her if that happens... You should've read my papers from '05, if you want it clearer than that. C. P. Three uses distributed intelligence, instead of concentrated data node architecture - mini-Alice can fit on a single isolinear chip, minus long-term memory."
"Could you do this with someone else?" Rusty asked. "Me, for instance?"
"I wouldn't," Alice told him. "Reintegration hurts, it's confusing and disorienting at first... I've been told it's like being assimilated by the Borg, but with more control. As for what it's like for the copy? You'd have to ask Cheshire - she didn't want to come back, so I didn't make her... honey, get on the safety for terminal two, and Rusty, if you would be so kind, keep an eye on the power levels?"
With that, Alice went slack, visibly comatose, sack-of-skin out of it.
Rusty glanced at Marq. "You realize, you married a mad scientist?" he asked.
"Yeah... so?" Marq eyeballed the parameters. "Every woman has issues, Rusty. My wife's issues she chooses to address by challenging the laws of god and man."
On the monitors, the first image was looking at Alice. "Unless she's fixed it, the copy won't be perfect," Marq added. "It'll reflect her state of mind on creation. Like, she made Cheshire after we went to the San Francisco Met's performance of 'Alice in Wonderland' for her birthday..."
In her digital form, she didn't look that different from the woman laying in the recliner, wrapped in feed lines and neural connectors.
"You understand the mission? Get in, find the information, and come back."
A little girl's voice answered, "Yes'm, I understand."
"You know the way?" Alice asked.
"Across the rainbow bridge, into the mountain king's hall, from there to the floating castle, and then to the City of Brothers, and back the same way."
The woman nodded. "Be careful, there are dangers on the journey, and you're young. I don't want you getting hurt."
The image tilted slightly. "Don't worry, Glinda, I'll be careful." The girl hesitated a moment. "Will I get to have a body when I come back? Because I'd very much like to be real someday."
Alice's expression showed pain. "You are real, Dorothy. But if you want a body, I'll see what I can make for you."
The lighting on the screen brightened. "YES!!! I'll be careful!"
"That... could be a problem," Marq said quietly.
"She... doesn't realize that she's you?" Jesu asked Alice.
Alice lay there comatose.
"She can't hear us in that state," Marq said. "It's why I have to watch her vitals - everything upstairs is in the Server."
"What's in Philadelphia?" Rusty wondered. "The Hall of the Mountain King is what we called SPECWARCOM-Coronado - weird, considering it was on a beach - and I figure the floaty castle is Langley Station, but there's no real Starfleet presence in Philly."
Marq just shrugged.
The monitors showed a very... idealized environment - almost like watching a movie set in some magical land...
"The Wizard of Oz?" Jesu observed.
"We were... um, role-playing earlier..." Marq mumbled. "She constructs the Grid as she perceives it - Alice says it's more like a lucid dream than anything else."
'Dorothy' hid in some flowing undergrowth as armored killing machines rolled along the yellow brick road past her. She slipped behind them, and sped faster, avoiding another patrol further along. Many of these security elements looked achingly familiar - like they could have been played by a young Gregory Peck.
"AU Security Subroutines," Marq explained. "Or ASSes, for short."
Rusty snickered at that.
A few of her detours changed the environment, and they caught sight of city-scapes, flashing billboards advertising food, or dry goods, or "TRIBBLE-Rated!!!". One stop she ducked into was filled with walls of anti-alien hatred, and the monstrous distortion of a man's voice. Dorothy didn't stay long here, just long enough to avoid another security patrol.
"What's that?" Marq asked.
"Looks like she found a server in use by Terra Prime," Jesu speculated.
"It's disgusting..." Dorothy stepped out of this dystopian vision, and they were in a Starfleet base. "It's really close to..."
"It's inside EARTHSEC." Alice's voice said from one of the monitor stations, "Someone's running a Terra Prime message board inside Earth Security in Palo Alto... Just need to find the mainline into Starfleet Security from there... and look at that, an open line right into SPECWARCOM."
Rusty had spent a lot of time at Starfleet Special Warfare Command, training on the beaches, running combat simulations, testing out MACO special forces tactics against their trained killers. The digital version looked nothing like he remembered. Rather than a sunny paradise of white sand and palm trees opposite San Diego bay, Alice/Dorothy saw a dark and foreboding mountain, brooding under a storm cloud, with a cavern lit with torches that looked like nothing so much as the throat of a dragon.
"Glinda! I found something weird." 'Dorothy's' voice said, and a listing of personnel and transfers appeared. "Isn't this stuff supposed to be guarded?"
"It's bait, don't touch," Alice cautioned her. "Bait for a trap."
"Okay, Glinda, I won't play with the bait, but who'd bait a trap with transfer orders for Eta Eridani?"
"Find out later, remember where you're going..."
The vision led straight down the throat of the cavern, deep into dark, dank corridors filled with the snarls of fierce things.
"Guard dogs?" Rusty conjectured. "The real place is crawling with Belgian malinois dogs - like a German shepherd crossed with a rottweiler."
"Those sounds are Black ICE and other counter-intrusion programs," Marq said. "As perceived by Dorothy and maybe some of Alice's imagination."
A few of the monsters became visible, here and there - some looked like a demon's dog, some looked more... frightening. They looked like Deinons, with soulless flames for eyes. Dorothy sidestepped them as they passed by her.
She came to a door.
"Locked file connection," Marq said. "She's checking for the crypto algorithm, and what it takes to get past it."
She opened the door as some of the monsters started to approach, stopping them with the key.
Inside, they saw gray-faced figures shuffling in numbered lines. The gray-faced figures were numbers themselves, indistinct personnel numbers, Starfleet stock numbers, resource allocation codes. It looked for all the world like the universe's largest transporter hub. She borrowed a number from an object, and stepped into a line, passing by a checkpoint unquestioned.
"She's in," Jesu realized.
"Remember who you are looking for?" Alice asked the little girl.
"I remember." The name Hayate Yagami scrolled by, with a number. But when Dorothy reached the place in the line where that number should be, it wasn't there. "She's gone!"
"Taken, removed from the server," Alice said. "Keep moving, sweetie. Check the floating castle next."
The view changed to a train, hurtling along a fixed route. Dorothy was surrounded by gray 'number people'.
The personnel numbers vanished from the 'train' construct with a small, Materializing icon flash.
"A transporter buffer?" Jesu asked.
"Probably," Marq said, as the fictional train rolled to a stop, and Dorothy stepped out.
The 'Floating Castle' looked like the nice part of the fairy tale, at least at first. As Dorothy crossed the rainbow bridge, she could see under the cloud, where countless telescopes were pointing downwards at the world below. Figures in Starfleet uniforms approached each of the gray number people, held their hands, said, "For your own safety," and escorted them into the castle. The figures had heads like snakes.
"Recognizers," Alice whispered. "You'll have to become one of them."
"Right..." Dorothy ducked out of line and hid in the cloud, waiting for one of the snakes to approach. It didn't take long. Flicking its tongue in the air, a recognizer homed in on her. "For your own safet-ERK!" Dorothy stabbed it with something, the recognizer derezzed and Dorothy stepped into its uniform.
She entered the castle and made it all the way into the keep unhindered. "She's not here either, Glinda! Her number says she should be here, but she's not."
"If she was taken, there should be fingerprints of whoever took her."
Dorothy brushed some dust all around where Hayate's file number should have been, but... "Nothing."
"What does that mean?" Marq wondered, noticing Jesu's frown.
"Anybody who would have edited SI's records would have to have used an access code. If there's no code, then... I don't know what that means."
Alice spoke, as if she could hear them. "The only people who could have taken her without leaving prints are at the City of Brothers," she said. "Go there next."
Dorothy hurried back to the train station, shedding her recognizer uniform along the way. The train took her...
...Somewhere else. It looked like a postcard image of Philadelphia, except for the ICE creatures patrolling the streets, and the replacement of Starfleet icons for the historically-inaccurate but popular 'American' icons. And everyone she saw was dressed from neck to toe in a disturbingly familiar black uniform.
"Section Thirty-One," Jesu muttered.
Dorothy ambushed and became one of the black-suited figures, made her way into Franklin Court in the middle of a crowd. Hayate's number found a file...
"Excuse me, young lady, but you don't belong here."
Dorothy tried to click her heels together, but the counter was too fast, cutting off her escape protocol with ease.
Dorothy spun, and saw Daniel Craig in a tuxedo pointing a Walther PPK at her face.
"Oh, SH*T!!" Jesu's eyes goggled and he jumped in front of Marq, slapping the killswitch.
The images vanished from the monitors, and Alice bolted upright, then leaned over and started puking.
"Baby!" Marq leaped to her side. "Are you okay!"
"God damn he was strong," she groaned. "Froze her, countered her, traced her all before I could react. Good thing you killed the link... I could swear he was about to get me right through the buffer..."
"Thank Jesu."
"What the hell was that?" Rusty wondered.
"Better kung fu than mine," Alice said. "Lots better... he's either an unchained ATTICUS, or someone's building their own version of Crystal Palace, and the only outfit that's done that before is Section Thirty-One."
"What about 'Dorothy' then?" Marq wondered.
She shook her head. "She's either derezzed, or she's been isochipped. If she's been isochipped, they have her, but that guy..."
She went to the fireplace after she regained her feet, and picked up a poker, then she turned and started hammering at expensive computer hardware with it. "Honey, I think it's time we went to visit your parents," Alice added as she smashed delicate machinery she'd spent weeks building. "Or anywhere else that is solidly 'out of town', I can't be sure, but that was not a normal traceback."
Marq was distressed as it was. "WHY?"
"He got inside my head. AI shouldn't be able to do that."
"They can if they're ignoring any of their Commandments," Jesu pointed out.
"James Bond," Marq muttered. "Drake has Templar, Simon Templar - a master thief from an old two-dee show. No Eighth Commandment. James Bond..."
"...Has a License to Kill," Jesu finished. "No Sixth Commandment." He'd recognized the unchained AI for what it was the instant he saw it, and he'd seen firsthand what such a construct armed with Black ICE could do to an Organic.
"And now he knows who I am, probably where I am," Alice groaned. "And he's got Dorothy, which means he knows I'm back in business," Alice said. "I guess I'll have to un-do Cameron."
"Hang on, baby. Drake already knows your back, and so does his AI..."
She fixed Marq with a look. "He was in my head, Bond didn't know," she said. "Not until he eyedee'd me. There are more people in The Organization than just our old friend Drake, and I do not want to meet them."
"Maybe you'd better get out of town," Jesu suggested as if it was his idea. "Atticus would know if Bond comes looking for you, right?"
"It's not Bond I'm worried about, it's his controller - the only reason he didn't wipe my meat while you were hitting the killswitch, is Marq." She wiped her chin with her sleeve. "If he's an AU, he's got a core directive not to mess with anyone in the Sander family - but I doubt it extends to not telling his Organics about me."
Jesu's expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry guys. I should've sent Hooper, not you."
Alice patted him on the side of the face. "Hooper would've choked on the firewall into SPECWAR, Jesu. None of us expected James freaking Bond to be sitting on the file you wanted." She turned to Marq. "Anyway... I hear the skiing is nice on Denali, there are some great restaraunts on Qo'noS, and Risa is beautiful every time of the year, let's take a real vacation, and spend some of that Sander fortune just having a good time, whatcha say hon?"
The wavelength gently grows
Coercive notions re-evolve
A universe is trapped inside a tear
It resonates the core
Creates unnatural laws
Replaces love and happiness with fear
How much deception can you take?
How many lies will you create?
How much longer 'til you break?
Your mind's about to fall
And they are breaking through
And they're breaking through
They are breaking through
('Cause we are losing control)
And they're breaking through
They're breaking through
They're breaking through
Now we're falling
We are losing control
Invisible to all
The mind becomes a wall
All of history deleted with one stroke
How much deception can you take?
How many lies will you create?
How much longer 'til you break?
Your mind's about to fall
And they're breaking through
They're breaking through
They're breaking through
Now we're falling
We are losing control
Matthew Bellamy of Muse - "MK Ultra"
King Street Station, Seattle - 0512 hours
The morning sun was glinting on the skyscrapers and the Space Needle in advance of its rise over the southeastern horizon. Marq and Alice had let the LaRocas out four blocks away, and of course Jesu had to stop in a cafe for his espresso dose. After pulling an all-nighter, Rusty joined him.
Now waiting for their hypervac train back to San Francisco, Jesu lost himself in his thoughts. "I shouldn't've gotten her involved," he said after a while. "I should've just hired someone off the net. What is it papa always said? 'Never send someone you care about where you aren't willing to go yourself.'"
"She was the logical choice," Rusty told him. "She wouldn't have taken the job if she wasn't sure she could do it."
"Still..." Jesu released a sigh and a heartfelt curse with the same breath. "I hope they'll be alright."
"Want me to get in touch with Drake, see what he can do about it?"
Jesu shook his head. "Not yet. We still don't have the information we were looking for." He reached inside his jacket for a folded piece of paper he hadn't let out of his sight - the contact codes for Ryoko's information specialist. "I'll try this guy when we get home. I don't know where else to go."
Rusty nodded. He started to say something but the PA interrupted him, announcing that their train had arrived from Vancouver and was now boarding for Portland, Eugene, Eureka, San Francisco and points south.
"What were you gonna say?" Jesu asked once they'd settled in their seats and the hypervac accelerated southbound.
"It's not important," Rusty told him.
Jesu, though, saw something in his eyes that told him it was. "What?"
"Well, it's... It's Alice. The way she... Everything that we saw through Dorothy's eyes - that was all Alice's imagination, right?"
"That's what Marq said, yeah."
"So... those guard programs at SPECWAR - the ones that look like Deinons. Is that how she imagines me?"
Jesu looked forward. "I think you're reading too much into it, bro. She was just filling in something that was scary and dangerous, which you are, but I don't think she sees you personally that way."
The train slowed from 4,500kph for its stop at Portland.
"It really bothers you, doesn't it?" Jesu asked. "How people see you?"
Rusty looked out the window. "It makes me wonder if they see the same things in me that I can see."
Jesu waited for his brother to elaborate, but Rusty was asleep before the train stopped at Eugene.
Shuttlecraft Nadleeh, Earth Orbit
Tieria Erde floated in what some of the other Section 31 members had named the 'Veda Tank', his eyes glowing golden showing he was linked with the AI as he sifted through all the data that he was getting from his contacts out in Moab, Goralis, and below him on Earth.
He was interrupted from his musings on the developing situations in Moab and with the Federation Council by a beeping from the comm system - someone was trying to get in touch with him. Through the link with Veda, he discovered who it was almost instantly. Admiral LaRoca? he thought. Interesting... and with my chosen comm frequency and encryption, too... Minister Hibiki must have given him my contact information recently. He delved even further into his link before accepting the connection, as the chamber around him dissolved into the purple digital sea of ones and zeros. Since the transmission was visual, this would allow Tieria to restrict the view, so that his Section 31 uniform was concealed. Plus, given how little LaRoca probably knew, the digital background might lead him to suspect that Tieria was an AI himself - which suited him just fine.
He opened the connection, revealing LaRoca's image in a window before him, while LaRoca would only see Tieria's head and neck, with the datawall in the background. "Admiral LaRoca," Tieria greeted. "This is a surprise... but it is still a tremendous pleasure to meet you at last."
"Ryoko told me how to contact you," the Admiral said. "She told me you deal in information."
"That I do," Tieria replied. "Are you seeking information in particular? Possibly evidence to sway the upcoming Council vote concerning the Moab situation?"
Jesu LaRoca narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are you saying you have evidence to offer? Something that can move them to uphold Moab Independence?"
"Hard evidence is hard to come by. I will need resources if you are asking me to investigate events on the ground."
LaRoca shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, that's not what I wanted to ask you about. I need information about a Starfleet officer, Admiral Hayate Yagami. All of her records have been buried, and I'm pretty sure Section Thirty-One is holding the shovel."
Tieria's eyebrow rose, almost unnoticeably. "As it so happens, I actually do have some information on Admiral Yagami," he said aloud. "It isn't much, but it should be enough to draw a picture of what she can do and her motivations." He paused briefly. "Normally I would ask if you had information you were willing to trade for this, Admiral, but I will let you have it free of charge this time - a gesture of good faith, if you will, in the hopes that you might come to me for hard-to-find information like this in the future."
LaRoca slowly nodded. "What can you tell me?"
"For starters, you were correct in guessing that she has connections to Section 31," Tieria said. "In fact, you could say she was raised in the organization. Her parents died when she was young, but she was raised by her adoptive uncle, retired Fleet Admiral Gil Graham, who has been rumored to have led Section Thirty-One in the past and even now still holds respect within the organization." He paused again. "Yagami herself holds a high position in the organization, commanding Special Operations Section Six, an 'actionable intelligence' unit."
LaRoca seemed startled by this revelation. "How did... how do you know all of this?" he demanded.
"I have my sources," Erde replied enigmatically. "As to the size of her unit, she has several ships at her disposal - an Odyssey, an Avenger, a Maelstrom, a Nimbus, and a Gallant. I have heard that Section Thirty-One is building a new Flagship for her, but I do not know just what it is yet - presumably some new class of starship." His expression then turned apologetic. "That is about all I have at the moment, Admiral."
"You can't tell me what her mission is? Or what Section 31 is doing with that kind of firepower?"
"Section 31's stated goals are the protection of the Federation by any means necessary," Tieria reminded him. "I would assume her mission is tied to that directive in some manner. As to how Section 31 managed to obtain the ships for Admiral Yagami's unit, I'm not prepared to share that information just yet."
"I see. Thank you, Erde. Your information has been... helpful." LaRoca looked off to his right for a moment. "If I decide to supply you with resources in exchange for information about the Moab situation... how do I know I can trust you?"
"I do not deal in false information, Admiral," Tieria replied. "That said, there is an old Earth axiom, which I believe the Ferengi have adapted into a Rule of Acquisition, which will apply: 'You get what you pay for.' As mentioned previously, the information on Yagami was given freely, as a gesture of goodwill. For most situations, however, I trade information for information - the more valuable the information I get, the more valuable the information given in return."
"That's not what I meant." LaRoca crossed his arms and leaned back from his viewer. "If I give you access to my resources, how do I know you won't sell them out to the next guy who comes asking for your services?"
"You need not worry on that front, Admiral," Tieria informed. "I would not use resources you provided to help another client, nor would I use their resources to assist with one of your requests. It is a policy of mine to never use resources provided by one client to facilitate requests from another."
"Policies are made to be violated."
"Call it a code of honor, then," Erde told him. "I am not your typical infobroker. I would not even offer to supply you with this information if I did not believe in your cause."
LaRoca chewed on that for a moment. "I'll think about it. I know how to reach you." And with that he signed off.
Tieria sighed as he disengaged the link with Veda, the walls of the chamber coming back into view as the digital sea faded.
He had technically been lying - he knew more about Admiral Yagami, of course, including the class of her new flagship - one of the new vessels being produced from the STIG yards, Eclipse-Class if Tieria remembered correctly, and that it was actually very close to being done. However, being that he was Section 31 himself, he wouldn't disclose everything - hopefully what he gave was enough to satisfy LaRoca's curiosity for now.
In the meantime, he would need to make preparations - if LaRoca took him up on his offer to investigate the Moab situation, he'd need to make sure his own resources were in position to support LaRoca's resources.
Seacliff
"Well," Jesu said, pushing back in his chair, "that explains why only Section Thirty-One has her files, at least."
"It explains a lot more than that," Rusty spoke in a raspy whisper. "That mystery fleet Ivan was talking about-"
"I know. Section Thirty-One plus a fleet of cloaked battleships equals trouble."
"Do you still want me to talk to Drake?"
Jesu got up and walked over to the whirlpool tank where Rudyard was sleeping, resting on the bottom, letting the current flow over him. "What's he gonna say? Either he doesn't know about it, or he's in on it. Talking to him would just put either him or us in bigger trouble than we're already in."
Rusty stepped to his brother's side. "I don't think I ever told you about this, but... You know how Ess-Thirty-One tried to recruit me out of the Academy?"
"Yeah."
"Well, they tried to push me on their ideology. Defending not the Federation government, but the principles the Federation was founded on. Gil Graham was the director of Starfleet Technical Intelligence Group - he as much as told me it was a cover for the Organization - he brought me into the office and almost had me sold on what they were doing. And if he was such a big influence on Admiral Hayate... I think they'll be on our side, Jesu."
The Human shook his head. "Everything they say sounds great until you get down to the application of their ideology. Do the ends justify the means. And they give the wrong answer." He looked at his little brother. "It's the oldest moral quandary in the books. Is it okay to steal a loaf of bread to feed a starving child? Is it alright to target civilians to force their evil government to give in to your righteous demands?"
"Alright for us, or for them?" Rusty asked, remembering more than a few events where someone thought that precise way...
Jesu nodded. "The problem with this way of thinking - and I know I've been guilty of it - is that as the end-goal gets bigger, it can be used to justify whatever means you care to name, no matter how horrendous. That's how we end up with people like Schrodinger, who would create and burn an entire universe to save ours." Jesu's expression flashed a bit of pain at saying that. Briefly he recalled that last transmission from Colonel Trung before the young man went into the rift... and the way that B'Tama Trung had gone nearly insane in her grief.
He shook it off and continued. "Hayate's unit, or this fleet they could be building, gives Section Thirty-One the means to carry out their noble ends of saving the Federation from itself in the most horrific ways. They may come down on our side, but I don't want to give them an excuse to do the things they are capable of. I don't want their brand of 'help' on my conscience."
"What if that's the only way we can save our friends?" Rusty asked softly.
Jesu had no answer.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Alice Okuda IMO is one of those very people who can justify everything, just like Schrodi, and I so hope to see her arrested. As far as Jesu--he's just about there himself; he just can't see it.
I felt bad for Rusty, though, seeing those "Deinon" guards. I also hope that someday we'll get to see him and Alyosha together again, because even though Alyosha is a shapeshifter, I know he would be willing to listen.
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Had she solely staked her *own* mind in this (no spawning another instance of herself, but still taking the direct-connect risk), I don't think I would be so bothered...I could file that under "illegal, yes, but not necessarily *wrong,*" and I would very likely have given her a pass for it. A dangerous action solely involving a consenting adult isn't so much of a problem--and AI's and Liberated Borg make such decisions on occasion, to do things that could be harmful to them personally.
Creating another sentient being in an inherently torturous situation as a slave to do her dirty work and potentially die horribly in the process...that I do have a major, major problem with, so that is something I do think merits her getting put away for life.
Just to be clear, none of this means a bad story--it's gripping, and I think it is a *good* thing to be able to spawn a passionate response even if it is dislike of a character.
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In what way?
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
And equally:
For someone of Alice's intelligence, that must be a living hell, so I wouldn't be surprised if things might get a bit much for her...
I think Marq has really matured in the intervening years, and I think getting Alice back has taught him what things in his life should matter most.
As for Jesu, well, let's just say his perceptions and expectations of himself will be facing profound challenges in upcoming chapters.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon