Shadow Plays by CeJay
Summary:

The Federation is experiencing an upswing in crime. Cyber-crime. In San Francisco, the melting pot of the galaxy, a new special crime fighting unit with wide reaching law enforcement powers is tasked to go after the roots of this spreading infestation.

But they are soon to discover that they are up against an enemy with seemingly limitless resources. Could a mysterious young woman be the answer they’ve been looking for?

A cyber-punk inspired Star Trek adventure.

Shadow Plays is also available as an ebook download in PDF, ePub and mobipocket (Kindle) format at StarEagleAdventures.com


Categories: Expanded Universes Characters: None
Genre: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Adult Language, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 49 Completed: Yes Word count: 98845 Read: 151650 Published: 05 May 2009 Updated: 16 Jun 2012

1. 001 - "It's A Whole New World Out There." by CeJay

2. 002 - "That's Why I Hate Taking The Train." by CeJay

3. 003 - "Welcome To Bay City, Kid." by CeJay

4. 004 - "Mr. President, Have Pity On The Working Man." by CeJay

5. 005 - "Who's Gonna Clean Up This Mess?" by CeJay

6. 006 - "Another Way of Life Awaits." by CeJay

7. 007 - "Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow." by CeJay

8. 008 - "First Day On The Job And Ready to Roll." by CeJay

9. 009 - "An Offer You Cannot Refuse?" by CeJay

10. 010 - "Who Runs This Town, Anyway?" by CeJay

11. 011 - "Coming Courtesy Gateway 668." by CeJay

12. 012 - "Just Don't Call Her A Whiz-Kid." by CeJay

13. 013 - "There Are No White Rabbits On The Moon." by CeJay

14. 014 - "Round and Round and Round We Go." by CeJay

15. 015 - "Buddha Says." by CeJay

16. 016 - "Just Follow the Treasure Map." by CeJay

17. 017 - "Showdown on Treasure Island." by CeJay

18. 018 - "The Offer Stands." by CeJay

19. 019 - "It's Business As Usual" by CeJay

20. 020 - "We Need Guns. Lots of Guns." by CeJay

21. 021 - "She's Hearing Voices But She Ain't Crazy" by CeJay

22. 022 - "The Case Of The Old Man And The Stims" by CeJay

23. 023 - "It's A Stab In The Dark." by CeJay

24. 024 - "The Japanese Lady In The Chinese Dress." by CeJay

25. 025 - "Nothing Like A Trip Into The Countryside." by CeJay

26. 026 - "Trouble Brewing Above And Below." by CeJay

27. 027 - "Overload" by CeJay

28. 028 - "Not the Kind Of Evening You Were Hoping For." by CeJay

29. 029 - "Stuck In The Middle With You." by CeJay

30. 030 - "Please Stand By For A Special News Alert!" by CeJay

31. 031 - "Too Many Cooks." by CeJay

32. 032 - "A Little Bit of Resistance." by CeJay

33. 033 - "It's A Long Way Down." by CeJay

34. 034 - "The Buck Stops Here." by CeJay

35. 035 - "Gotta Go Up In Order To Go Down." by CeJay

36. 036 - "The Most Dangerous Animal In The World Is A Politician." by CeJay

37. 037 - "Getting In Is The Easy Part." by CeJay

38. 038 - "The She-Wolf In Sheep's Clothing" by CeJay

39. 039 - "And That's How You Crash A Party." by CeJay

40. 040 - "With A Little Help From My Friends." by CeJay

41. 041 - "All Together Now." by CeJay

42. 042 - "Everything Ends Eventually." by CeJay

43. 043 - "The Hard Way Out." by CeJay

44. 044 - "Not In Kansas Anymore." by CeJay

45. 045 - "And Down It All Goes." by CeJay

46. 046 - "For Every Action, A Consequence." by CeJay

47. 047 - "No Time To Lose Your Head" by CeJay

48. 048 - "South Of the Border." by CeJay

49. 049 - "What's It All About, Mech?" by CeJay

001 - "It's A Whole New World Out There." by CeJay
Author's Notes:
PART ONE

001 “ “It’s A Whole New World Out There.”


< Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans, Way back up in the woods among the evergreens, There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood, Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode, Who never ever learned to read or write so well, But he could play a guitar like ringing a bell. >


Mech was sick to death of seekers but that didn’t stop her from getting a certain kick from diving through FedNet at breakneck speeds and keeping those automated locator programs on a futile struggle to keep up with her.

These ones were more tenacious than usual however. The three tubular devices were not going to give up without a fight.

Mother noticed. < Your singing is as impeccable as always but you might need all your concentration for this one. >

Mech smirked as she executed one tight turn after another.

< Go, Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Johnny B. Goode. >


Mech trusted Mother even “ or perhaps because “ she had never seen her face, never spoken to her outside FedNet, didn’t even know her name or how old she was. She was not close to her age that seemed obvious. Mother simply knew too much, had seen too much and most importantly was too skilled in the cyber realm as not to possess a long lifetime’s worth of experience.

They had met five years ago right here in the vast depth of the latticework of green and black grids and numbers which to the unfamiliar eye reassembled a confusing and incoherent maze but to those knowledgeable with its structure was a real world away from the real world.

And these seekers had been after her ever since. Where they came from Mech didn’t know, all she knew was that she couldn’t allow them to catch her.


Mech’s avatar, a purple haired and shapely young woman of young age and undetermined race dove through FedNet weightlessly and with apparent skill. She could maneuver through cyber-space with even more ease and grace then when she moved through the physical world. And given Mech’s talents that was saying quite a bit.

She couldn’t see Mother but she knew she was close.

< He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack, Or sit beneath the trees by the railroad track. Oh, the engineers used to see him sitting in the shade, Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made. The people passing by, they would stop and say, Oh my that little country boy could play. >


Clad in a long flowing white dress Mech dove through a distinctly dense part of FedNet, exemplified by the many bright green flashes of light shooting back and forth across the grid.

< The Alpha Centauri junction > Mother’s disembodied voice said. < You might be able to lose them in there. >

Mech somersaulted right towards the epicenter of the pulsing mass of activity.

Two of the seekers stayed with her.

< Go, Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Johnny B. Goode. >


Motivated by her own song, Mech moved even faster now. Speed had always been one of her strength in the virtual world. But she could only go that fast. Something kept her from going any faster. The FedNet interface was bound by the restrictions of the physical network it was based on. There were rumors that there were ways to completely free oneself from those restrictions.

She slalomed in between thousands of other users who were barely even aware of her presence. She dove left and right, up and down and yet the locator programs refused to be shaken.

< His mother told him someday you will be a man, And you would be the leader of a big old band. Many people coming from miles around, To hear you play your music when the sun go downMaybe someday your name will be in lights, Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight. >


Mother did notice the rising strain in her voice. < Trouble? >

< Are you close? >

< Yes, > she replied in a maternal sounding voice and not for the first time did Mech realize that her net-name had been well chosen. < I can see you. You have almost reached the center of the AC junction. >

< These damn things are not letting up. >

< I know. >

< Getting more desperate to catch me? >
Mech asked with a sly grin on her lips.

< Perhaps. They’ve been playing this game for a long time. >

Mech shot through the Alpha Centauri junction, diving amongst billions of other signals now, most of which were low-grade casual users who had little knowledge or skill to navigate the more intricate ways of FedNet.

< Any thoughts who they might belong to? >

< I have my theories. >

Mech thought better of it than to ask Mother if she wanted to share those. She never did.

< You might have to try something a bit more aggressive this time. >

Mech’s smile widened. She flipped around almost instantly, putting herself on collision course with the seekers.

< Careful, > Mother said, < impatience is every hero’s downfall. >

Mech began spinning towards the seekers which now glowed red as they sensed their target’s proximity.

Seconds before the seemingly inevitable impact Mech put on the breaks. She came to a dead stop and held out her palms toward the incoming projectiles.

< Go, Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, Johnny B. Goode. >


Blue energy rays shot out of her hands and towards the seekers. One fried instantly, the other evaded just in time to avoid the full brunt of the attack.

< Not bad, > said Mother.

The remaining seeker changed course and Mech watched it carefully as it zigzagged across the grid, apparently unable to reacquire its target.

Satisfied that it seemed out of commission she relaxed. < That should take care of that. >

< Are you quite sure of that? >

Mech looked over her shoulder. The seeker had found her again and was racing towards her, faster than ever.

< Uh-uh. >

< Take it out. >

Mech held out her palms but this time the energy beams refused to emerge. < I might have a problem here, > she said as her eyes grew wider. The seeker would impact with her any second. It was too late to try and make another run for it. Once the device would hit her, a powerful energy surge would spike her enhancers and probably overload her brain right along with it. Even if she survived the hit, whoever had been looking for her over all these years would have finally succeeded in locating her. It was not a prospect she was looking forward to. Mech appreciated her privacy.

< I’d say. >

< A little help? >

No sooner had she spoken the request as a blinding white light emerged right between her and the incoming seeker. The software construct vanished as if swallowed up by the light. In its stead a figure emerged out of the light. It was unmistakably female but it lacked any features that would have hinted towards an actual person. Sure, it consisted out of two arms and legs, a torso and a head but there was no skin or face to speak off. Instead Mother was constructed out of the same flickering grid that made up the structure of FedNet. Mech had long since stopped wondering about her unusual choice of avatar.

The seeker was nowhere in sight.

< Someday you’ve got to teach me how you do that. >

A few lines where Mother’s face was supposed to be moved gently. Mech understood this to be a smile.

Mother took off again and Mech had little trouble staying at her side as they made their way deeper into FedNet.

< You didn’t come here to watch me play hide and seek, did you? >

< I love to hear you sing. >

Mech continued to follow her, leaving behind the busy AC junction. But soon enough Mech knew exactly where they were headed. If Alpha Centauri had been full of activity than their next destination was practically bustling at the seams.

< Earth, >
Mech said after noticing the particular signature of the net junction. < Always a popular location. >

< Yes but what is really interesting here is that what you cannot see. >

< Okay, what am I not seeing? >

< Hold still. >

Mech did as she was told. Out of the corner of her virtual eye she noticed that Mother was moving towards her. She didn’t stop and was going to collide with her. < Watch out. >

< Just hold still. >

Mech wanted to budge but didn’t. Not even when the shimmering green avatar collided with her. No, collided was the wrong word. It passed through her.

Her skin crawled for just a moment as Mother’s avatar became one with her own. She gasped. Something was taking hold of her inside, she struggled against it.

< Don’t fight it. >

And then she felt it. Everything that Mother was and more streamed into her own consciousness. Years of experience, of joy and pain and every other emotion known to man. It was both painful and pleasurable at the same time. But it was also too much information at once. The images flashed in front of her mind’s eye at such speed she couldn’t hold on to a single one.

And then it was all gone. She missed the feeling instantly.

Mother had left but they were no longer in FedNet. At least no part of the network she had ever seen. She floated above what appeared to be an endless green ocean, above her was an equally infinite dark sky. The Earth junction was still close, right below her, shimmering on the crystal clear surface of the water. She couldn’t just see her surroundings, she could sense them as well.

And what she sensed more than anything else was the pull coming from the junction below her.

Mother appeared beside her again.

< It this the Source? >

< Yes. >

< Why did you bring me here? >

< I want you to see what I see. I want you to feel what I feel. >

Mech couldn’t help but focus on the unusually high activity around the junction. It was nothing she had ever seen before. It wasn’t just a high number of users, it was the inexplicable power of a few, perhaps just one. It was tightly focused on one particular section of the junction.

< North America, the western seaboard, > said Mother who knew exactly what Mech was thinking.

< Who could create so much activity in just one location? >

Without a word of warning her surroundings collapsed only to return to the much more familiar green grid that made up FedNet. Earth junction was still there but it looked exactly the way it had looked before.

Mech shot Mother a puzzled glance.

< Now
that is an excellent question. >
002 - "That's Why I Hate Taking The Train." by CeJay
002 “ “That’s Why I Hate Taking The Train.”


Gavin Thorgood was bored as he watched the California countryside zip past him. This was not what he had signed up for. He had left behind the uniformed service mostly due to the promise that as a special operative he’d be more effective in eradicating the last strands of crime which plagued his home world. Some might have considered his unwavering dedication to duty idealistic but he didn’t care. He liked being an idealist and why not? Wasn’t idealism what the Federation had been founded on? As of late however cynicism and skeptical minds prevailed, especially in his line of work.

Gavin was frustrated and it wasn’t just because of the alarmingly rising crime rate or the general disparagement of his colleagues. It was his ineffectiveness he contemplated as he sat in the window seat of the Trans-Fran line connecting San Jose with the Bay City. This was one of many similar trips he made in the last few months and they all ended with the same futile result. What was the point?

Was he finally joining the ranks of the cynics?

“Pay attention rookie. Our subject is not out there.”

Gavin frowned as he looked at the man sitting next to him. He didn’t like being called rookie but there wasn’t much he could do about it. As the newest member of the team he really had no right to complain.

Tank smiled. “Getting bored, eh?”

Gavin thought of himself as a man in a decent physical condition, tall and well built upper body. And yet he completely paled in comparison to Tank. His name was well deserved and gave further credence to his suspicion that it had to be a nickname. The man was a machine. Shoulders as broad as a house and muscles strong enough to lift one. His skin was dark, his head hairless except for the small well trimmed beard surrounding his mouth and reaching his chin. He was not quite human, he looked way too big to be one. But he hadn’t figured out what species he belonged to exactly.

“After doing this for the umpteenth time it is difficult to still see the point, boss,” Gavin replied as he brushed through his long mane of dirty blonde hair.

Tank uttered a deep rumble which Gavin had learned to be his attempt of sighing. He focused on a seat roughly ten rows ahead where a dark-haired man sat quietly by himself. He wore wraparound sunglasses which were attached so closely to his face they looked as if they were part of it. The long black coat and dark boots he wore had garnered him the ominous epithet Mister Black. Truth was that neither Gavin nor Tank had the slightest idea what is real name was.

“You think he’s gonna slip up this time?” Gavin asked.

“Not a chance. He knows exactly that we’re here and how to get rid of us.”

Gavin looked back out of the window. The super high-speed train was moving away from the Bay and was now coming up fast onto Daly City and the outskirts of San Francisco. “So it’ll be like every other time then.”

“It’s a stupid ass game we keep playing and to be honest I’m sick of it.”

“Yeah?” Gavin said, not really paying him much attention and missing the menacing inflection in his partner’s tone. “What you gonna do about it?”

Tank suddenly stood up. < Cover me. >

Gavin whipped around as if he couldn’t believe Tank’s voice reverberating in his enhanced brain. < What’re you doing? >

Tank slowly moved up the train and towards Black. < We’ll bring him in for questioning. >

The rookie jumped to his feet a bit too quickly which garnered him some curious looks from other passengers. He took a deep breath and slowed his movements. His right hand found the grip of his Fletcher 88 Enforcer hidden under his jacket.

< Boss, our orders are surveillance only. We have nothing on this guy and you know it. >

Tank continued forward, closing in on the subject.

Black slightly turned his head to his left, stopping short of actually making eye contact with the operative approaching him from behind. A tiny smile crept onto his thin lips.

< Damn, he’s made us. >

Gavin pulled his silver Fletcher and instantly knew he had made a mistake.

Passengers all around him screamed and jumped out of their seats upon seeing the firearm. Many had never seen one up close before but had read or seen enough news and entertainment content to realize what it was and how much damage it could do. Panic quickly ensued.

Black stood up calmly as if nothing was the matter and then slowly moved down the aisle and away from Tank.

And then something happened that completely astonished the veteran agent. Some of the panicked passengers, instead of running away from him “ and he knew he struck an imposing figure “ were coming right towards him, practically throwing themselves at him.

“Get out of the way!” he shouted and roughly pushed a young brunette to his side. A few rows ahead, Black had no such problems. In fact he moved down the train easily, the passengers parting to clear his path.

Gavin was doing no better. An older man was reaching out for his gun arm and pulling it down. “What are you crazy? Let go of me.”

The senior was no match for Gavin’s strength but he couldn’t shake a feeling of guilt when he shoved the interloper onto the ground, his head painfully connecting with an armrest.

Black in the meantime had reached the front of the train car and turned on his heel, his long coat fluttering like a cape. Tank still trying to clear his own path from crazed passengers dead set to slow him down noticed that Black had reached into his coat to retrieve a nasty looking weapon.

“Get down!” he shouted and with one immense push flattened the people in front of him by throwing his own weight on them.

The green energy blast still ripped into the right side of his arm. He gritted his teeth but didn’t allow himself to cry in pain.

Another bolt whizzed just inches past Gavin before slamming into the back of the train and blowing a large hole into the wall.

“My God, what is this guy using!” shouted the shocked agent just before he found cover behind a row of empty seat. Whatever it was, it was all kinds of illegal on Earth. If nothing else they had him on possession and use of a prohibited weapon. Not to mention endangerment of the public, destruction of public property and injuring a Municipal Safety officer.

< Boss, are you alright? >

< Don’t worry about me, take the bastard down already. >

Gavin brought up his Fletcher and found a clear shot. He fired.

And then he watched in amazement as the crimson phaser blast was simply absorbed by Black, causing him to stumble a bit in the process but otherwise remaining on his feet.

Gavin looked at his weapon. It was set on level two which was supposed to be enough to stun most humanoid life forms. The blasted thing only had three settings.

Unimpressed Back fired his weapon again and Gavin only barely managed to find cover. When he looked up again he noticed the gaping hole in the seats above him where seconds before his head had been.

Tank in the meantime had to deal with entirely different problems. The injury to his arm was the least of them. Three more passengers had decided to pile up on him and pin him to the ground. He had enough. Using his good arm it took him little effort to throw all three off him in one swift motion. He paid little attention to where they landed. He had more pressing matters to concern himself with.

Once freed he rushed forward and towards Black. He didn’t even consider using his own Fletcher. A sling shot would have been of more use. “You’re coming with me you son of a bitch.”

But Black remained irritatingly composed for the fact that he was being rushed by a three-hundred pound opponent. He went into a squat to deposit something on the floor.

What the hell is this guy doing?

Tank didn’t have much more time to think about it. Black fired at the nearest window which instantly shattered. Then, without so much as a run-up he leaped towards the window from his crouched position. His feet landed on the window frame, he spun around and pushed himself upwards.

Tank was impressed. That was not an easy feat, especially at four-hundred miles per hour.

He headed for the broken window, the wind blowing into his face. Looking up there was no sign of Black.

“Boss, is this what I think it is?”

Tank turned to see Gavin who was now inspecting a small triangular device, shaped like a small, palm-sized pyramid, on the floor. Black had positioned it there before leaping out of the window. Blue indicator lights were flashing along all three sides in an increasingly rhythmical pattern.

Tank didn’t need to look twice to know what they were dealing with . < It’s a bomb alright. >

< Can we move it? >

Tank shook his head. < I wouldn’t recommend it. These things have motion sensors. I say we have two minutes max. Get these people on the next car, double time, > he said and moved down the aisle again. His focus was on the ceiling. Black was on top of them.

< What are you going to do? >

“Less talking, more action,” Tank shouted back.

Gavin sighed and looked at the explosive. “And I really wanted to make it home for dinner today.” He quickly shook off those unlikely fantasies and stood. “Alright people, for your own safety move to the next car. Now!”

There was general confusion by this announcement.

“What the hell, y’all think I’m kidding?” Gavin drew his gun for emphasis.

The crowd got the message.

Tank pulled some of the passengers back on their feet as he moved down the train. He recognized a few of them as the ones who attacked him earlier. Now they just seemed perplexed, not sure where they were or what to do. “Move your butt’s people,” he shouted at them but continued determinedly towards the other end.

< Shall we stop the train? > Gavin asked as he supervised the passengers’ escape.

< Way too late for that, > the veteran replied. He had reached the end of train and smashed one of the last windows with his bare fist. < Dive into the system and disconnect the car form the rest of the train. >

Gavin reached out for an elderly person who was moving way too slow for his taste. “Please, sir, you’ve gotta hurry.” < Alright but there is at least one more car attached to this train. >

< I’ll take care of that. >

Tank nearly ripped open the door leading to the next car and shoved passengers who were not hurrying sufficiently through the door. “Move all the way down, folks. All the way down!”

They still didn’t get it but at least they were moving.

When the last one was through Tank sealed the door and connected to a nearby computer terminal. Shorty after the last car detached from the train. When he was satisfied he looked across the car to where Gavin was helping the last person out of the doomed compartment. They had less than forty seconds left. It was going to be tight. < Ok, do it! >

Gavin nodded. The young agent stepped through the door and closed it shut behind him. He better have a ticket out of this. Not even he’d able to survive this, he thought but didn’t quite dare to communicate to his partner. Tank hated this kind of thing. Shut up and worry about your own damn butt, was his usual reply.

He reached into his jacket to retrieve a disc-shaped device about two inches in diameter. He pulled it apart easily so that he had two discs. He attached one to a computer terminal. “Keep moving up the train,” he told a few passengers who lingered around him. Then he turned to the terminal and sighed. “I hate this part,” he mumbled just before he attached the second disc to the side of his neck.

The terminal was not difficult to hack. Within seconds his brain enhancers had bypassed the single firewall protecting the train couplings. He got out clean.

Not a moment later he noticed that the train was pulling away from the car Tank was still standing in. < We’re clear. May I recommend you get out of there as well? >

< Why don’t you shut up and worry about “ >

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gavin said to himself. He had already terminated the link. Why listen to the same thing all day long? He quickly moved forward, imploring the confused passengers to do the same.

Tank jumped on the window frame he had cleared earlier and pulled himself onto the roof of the car nearly as gracefully as Black had a little while earlier. The car was slowing but was still doing a good three hundred something. Not the ideal velocity to move around on top of a train.

Once he had found his footing he also rediscovered Black. He was slowly making his way down the roof of the other train car. He froze and turned to stare right at Tank.

There was nothing the agent wanted more than go after the man. He didn’t like being shown off. But he had about ten seconds left before his ride would blow up from under his feet. The gap between his car and the one Black stood on was now almost two-hundred yards and increasing by the second. He would need a good run-up to bridge that gap. No time.

Swearing under his breath Tank jumped off the train.

Just before it was ripped apart.
003 - "Welcome To Bay City, Kid." by CeJay

003 “ “Welcome To Bay City, Kid.”


Jackson Slade pulled his white four-door hover into the pick-up area of San Francisco Air Terminal North just a few short miles outside the city in Sausalito. He idled there for a minute before the driver’s door rolled up and he stepped outside.

One wouldn’t have been able to determine Jackson’s profession easily from simply judging his plain vehicle or his indistinct gray pants with matching jacket. He wore his brown hair short to the scalp and possessed a set of hazel colored eyes which most likely had seen a lot more that most would have guessed at first sight. To appear unassuming was a plus in his line of work. And he would have been able to pull it off too, had it not been for his slightly stiff demeanor which he was unable to shake even when he tried to casually lean against the car. Something about his mannerisms spoke of official business, military even.

His insistent eyes scanned the swarms of people coming out of the large glass and steel construct which was the air terminal’s arrival building. They were travelers coming from all over the planet and yet none of them looked as if they had traveled for long. No wonder, a shuttle ride to the farthest destination only took an average of three hours.

“Hello.”

Startled Jackson looked to his side to see a short, young woman in her mid-twenties. She reached just about his shoulders and in fact appeared so delicate that it seemed to border on a miracle that she was able to carry the large holdall that was slung over her shoulder.

“Can I help you, Miss?” Jackson asked without paying her much more attention. After all he had come here to pick up a new team member and not to engage in frivolous conversations with young bright-eyed girls.

The woman brushed a few strands of her long blonde hair out of her face. “Well, yeah, I hope so.”

“Cabs are down the street. You can catch the Trans Fran from level two, that’ll take you into the city,” Jackson replied, keeping his eyes on the thinning crowd.

“Alright then,” she said and walked off. She stopped after just a few steps. “I think somebody was supposed to come and pick me up though.”

Slade slowly turned his head to study the young blonde from head to toe. She wasn’t bad looking at all, a bit too young for him perhaps. She looked quite innocent, perhaps even a tad naïve, like a country girl making her first trip to the big city. Could it be her? He was waiting for a cybernetics and computer expert. A person who had spent the last five years of their life inside a lab. This girl looked more at home at the beach.

“Where you coming from, Miss?”

“Cambridge.”

Damn. “Bobbie Case?”

She lightened. “Yes, that’s me. You must be Mister Slade,” she said with a beaming smile and held out her hand. “It’s great to meet you, sir.”

Jackson stiffened even more when he awkwardly took her hand. She had a pretty solid grip too.

“Gosh, this could have been really weird, don’t you think?” she asked still displaying those pearly whites.

Could have?
“I apologize, I wasn’t expecting a …”

“Woman?”

Girl more like it. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t feel bad I get that a lot.”

“Let me take this,” he offered and took her holdall. He stepped to the back of his vehicle and the trunk quickly slid open. “You just don’t look like one of those whiz-kids coming straight out of college.” He placed the bag into the car and the trunk lid slipped back into position. When he looked back at the young Case he found that her smile had vanished.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

She was practically frowning now. “Call me a whiz-kid. I really don’t like it.”

“Duly noted,” he replied and pointed the passenger door. “Ready to get to know your new job?”

And just like that the frown was gone again. “Am I ever?”

No two minutes later they were on the road. By her large, all-consuming eyes, Jackson quickly determined that she had never been to California before. She radiated excitement from seeing pretty much everything he took for granted. The endless Pacific, the massive sequoias and then finally the San Francisco skyline and the bright crimson Golden Gate Bridge.

Amongst the skyline one building stood out more than any other, easily twice as high as the famous white Pyramid and adorned with a large blue and silver Federation emblem it was easily discernible even before they had reached the bridge.

Jackson noticed the special attention Bobbie was giving it.

“Federation Plaza. The most recent addition to the city’s skyscrapers. Not the most popular building around here though.”

“Why’s that?”

Jackson shrugged. “San Franciscans are old fashioned I guess. While most cities have built massive skylines, San Fran has for the most part stuck to the old ways. Even after the Breen the city was reconstructed almost exactly the way it had been before. And FedPlaza doesn’t really fit in with the old look.”

With that Bobbie could only agree. The mega-scraper struck a bit of a sad picture, all by itself as the undisputed tallest building in the skyline. Nobody even came close.

The young girl had quickly found another sight to focus on.

At this Jackson smirked. “Starfleet Headquarters,” he said and Bobbie Case was certain she could hear a tiny hint of sentimentality in his tone.

Bobbie nodded slowly as he watched the massive campus which as always was a hub of activity.

“If the locals don’t like FedPlaza they’re really not crazy over Starfleet having made the city their home,” he said and then continued before she could ask why. “I guess Starfleet has a tendency to think that because they’re the single biggest institution in the Federation that they can run the city. They practically own the entire air space in the county, one of the reasons we had to come pick you up from the Sausalito terminal. The other, because of their heavy use of transporters, civilian transporter activity in San Francisco is lower than in any other city in the Federation.”

“A bit ironic, isn’t it?”

“Sure. But then again you might prescribe to the emerging faction who believes that excessive beaming can lead to long term cellular damage.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that,” Bobbie said. “They say they don’t have any scientific proof of it.”

“It’s nonsense if you ask me but ever since the theories surfaced, overzealous politicians have been trying to curb transporter activity, especially here on Earth,” said Jackson and put the hover onto the on-ramp, leading up onto Golden Gate. “Normally we’d take the tunnel but seeing this being your first trip to the city I’ll show you around a bit.”

The young woman seemed to appreciate the gesture and gave him another large smile. “So you guys been having problems with the Fleet?”

The driver shrugged. “Some in the department don’t like them very much. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“I thought about joining after school. I mean it was difficult to go to a recruitment event without them trying to sign you up.”

“They never fully recovered from the War.”

The Starfleet campus disappeared behind a tree line and Bobbie turned her attention back to her new superior. “They don’t really have a cybernetics program anymore, that’s what made my decision to go to MIT instead a lot easier.”

Jackson nodded but didn’t say anything. Bobbie got the distinct impression that Starfleet was not his favorite topic. And then she noticed the masses of people crowding the bridge ahead.

The hover came to a crawl.

“Protestors,” Jackson Slade almost spat.

Bobbie didn’t have to ask what they were protesting against. Their large computerized banners and slogans flashed numerous messages which made their cause unmistakably clear.

“Leave nature alone, we don’t want no cyborg drone,” Bobbie said, reading one of the signs out loud.

Jackson had already rolled down the windows. “Come on, people, don’t you have jobs to go to!” he shouted and angrily hit the horn.

The crowds couldn’t have cared less.

“These anti-cybernization protestors are a real pain in this city.”

“You think these guys are bad,” said Bobbie. “I was in Paris over the summer. You can hardly turn your head without running into some protestors there.”

Jackson maneuvered the vehicle slowly through the crowd. “That’s the French for you. Protesting about something is in their nature.”

It might have been intended as a joke but Bobbie didn’t find it very funny. In fact she was certain the protests in Paris had been due to the fact that it was the capital city of the Federation and not because of some outdated stereotype Jackson Slade still prescribed to.

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about to be honest,” she said. “It’s a voluntary procedure and dramatically increases anyone’s potential.”

Jackson shot her a quick smile. “Of course you would say that,” he replied. “You’re a cybernetics expert. Just do me a favor and don’t advertise it until we’re out of here.”

Bobbie looked downright scared when she glanced back at the crowd. The fear didn’t persist however. This was no angry mob just a group of people who felt it necessary to voice their opinions more blatantly than others. No matter if one agreed with the sentiment or not, it was within their rights to do so.

“Let’s see what the newsfeeds have to say about this,” said Jackson and opened a link on his enhancers.

< -- anti-cybernization rallies have been reported in two-hundred metropolises around Federation space, marking today the second consecutive week of protests. > The female news anchor reported. < While most local governments have declared that they will not pass any cybernization restrictions a speaker for the Federation Council said that the Council has not ruled out a recommendation for more stringent laws to oversee or possibly restrict the use of cybernetic modifications on sentient life-forms -- >

“That’s just obtuse,” Bobbie commented, listening in on the same feed.

Jackson seemed less concerned. “It’s just people fearing what they don’t yet understand. It always happens, it always passes. It’s that New Gaia movement and their insufferable leader Heracles. They're the main instigators of this whole mess. Once people find out that they are nothing more than fear mongers this whole thing will go away.”

< In other news, the sectarian violence on Asuka III, a colony world of the close Federation ally of the Nyuchiba Confederacy continues after days of continuous fighting amongst the rival clans. The Nyuchiban ambassador to the Federation has informed us that his government has declared a state of emergency effectively immediately after the prefect of Asuka III was killed in an assassination plot two days ago. The ambassador further stated that his government would look favorably at any assistance the Federation could provide. In response Federation President Kentii’la has asked Starfleet to dispatch the USS Tripoli to Asuka III to assess the situation. We have learned however that opposition in the Council is warning that too much involvement -- >

< Slade, Masamune here. What’s your current position? >

Jackson replied instantly to the incoming message. < I just picked up our new techie. We’re on Golden Gate right now. We should be there shortly. >

< Belay that. We have a situation out in Daly. Looks bad. Get over there now. >

< Copy that. >

“Looks like the sightseeing tour has to wait. Duty calls,” Jackson said and hit a control which caused the vehicles shrill sirens to blare loudly. The astonished crowds jumped back from the hover as it suddenly began to pick up speed. “Let’s go people. This is an emergency!”
004 - "Mr. President, Have Pity On The Working Man." by CeJay
004 “ “Mr. President, Have Pity On The Working Man.”


She was fifteen minutes late and she hated to be late. For somebody as methodical and disciplined, tardiness was an almost inexcusable character trait. It was bad enough under regular circumstances and multiple times worse when meeting the person who had summoned her.

Not for the first time she cursed under her breath when she had to wait for the turbo-lift to arrive. It took her another agonizing minute to get to her destination on the fifteenth floor. She had counted every second.

“They’re already waiting for you,” the irritatingly friendly secretary announced when she stepped into the anteroom. “You may go right in.”

She nodded shortly towards the pretty brunette before she took a deep breath and forcefully pushed the two heavy wooden doors open.

Making great entrances were one of her many skills, no matter that perhaps a low-key approach might have been more appropriate considering the circumstances.

“Ah, Admiral Tessier, so good you could join us.”

The Starfleet admiral stood straight as a ramrod while she allowed the doors to close behind her. As she had feared everybody was already present. The man who had addressed her was a tall and lanky Bolian of middle age with a playful smile on his lips. She knew all too well that his cordiality was nothing but an empty mask under which he hid his true persona. What that was however she hadn’t really been able to figure out yet. But she knew she didn’t like the man, certainly didn’t trust him.

Also in the room, sitting in one of the plush chairs was a much shorter man with graying hair and of seemingly Southeast Asian descent. He wasn’t however. Not directly at least.

Salina Tessier focused on the third man in the room. He sat behind a lavish oak and ebony desk, the city’s vista sprawled out behind him, visible through the curved panoramic window.

He looked somewhat jaded and uninterested by anything transpiring in his office but that too was entirely the wrong impression.

“Mister President, I apologize for my lateness but we had a situation I had to deal with urgently. I hope it hasn’t presented too much of an inconvenience.”

President Kentii’la looked at her through his dark, brooding eyes and smiled. The leader of the United Federation of Planets gave the Starfleet Admiral a dismissive hand gesture as if he didn’t care in the slightest that she had not been on time. “I understand that you are very busy, Admiral. Do not concern yourself with our inconvenience,” he said. When he spoke his words came over his lips so slowly that Tessier swore he had to think about every single one before he uttered it. “Please, take a seat.”

The admiral nodded respectfully and did as had been suggested.

“I trust you have met the honorable Ambassador Fujiwara form the Nyuchiba Confederacy,” the president said.

“We have, yes,” she replied, greeting the oriental looking man with a friendly nod which was quickly reciprocated.

“Excellent,” he said and looked at his Bolian advisor who stood close to lara ge computer screen. “Mister Sill, if you could shortly reiterate to the Admiral what we have discussed so far.”

Sill gave the president a wide smile before turning to Tessier who desperately attempted to keep her discomfort hidden. She wasn’t all too successful. “Mister Fujiwara has given us a summary of the measures his government have taken in order to attempt to bring a quick and peaceful solution to the continuous violence on Asuka III. “

“Unfortunately very few of those have shown any signs of success,” the ambassador continued for Sill. “You must understand that the three warring families have been fighting each other in one form or another for the last two-hundred years. Ever since we first colonized Asuka. Only in the last few decades have we been able to establish a more peaceful society on Asuka thanks to a power sharing government in which all three families have an equal amount of legislative and executive power. Since then the clans have restrained themselves to political feuds.”

“Until two months ago,” Sill pointed out.

“Correct,” the ambassador said. “We haven’t been able to determine the exact cause yet but at roughly that time we saw an emergence of increased violence among members of the families which quickly turned into street battles for resources and territory.”

“Asuka III possesses large quantities of deuterium deposits if I am not mistaken,” Tessier said.

Sill nodded. “The Nyuchiba Confederacy has been a valuable trading partner of the Federation for over one hundred years, ever since it decided to secede,” he explained and shot the ambassador a somewhat accusing glance.

Fujiwara didn’t take the bait. “The continuously cordial and productive relationship with the Federation is our most paramount concern,” he said and eyed the president instead. “Both our people have benefited greatly from it.”

Tessier quickly realized that the diplomat was no fool. He had most likely come here to ask for assistance in quelling a primarily internal uprising, something the Federation had made its highest imperative not to do. But the ambassador had many more cards to play and everybody in the office knew it. The Nyuchiba Confederacy was one of the few human alliances which had split from the Federation early on to try and establish an empire free of Federation doctrine. Nychibia for example had a thriving monetary economy and most of its citizens were still focused on material gain much like the citizens of Earth had been once. It came with a high price, namely civil unrest, a high-crime rate and poverty. But the Federation had never been able to turn their back completely from the once small group of mostly Japanese emigrants who had settled some fifty light-years from Earth and begun to colonize their own worlds. Nyuchiba had blossomed, or at least a percentage of its people had. The government had smartly put claim on a number of resource rich planets, making them the envy of many larger empires including the Federation which had grown somewhat dependent on their trade partnerships.

For the admiral this new situation was a perfect opportunity to push her own agenda. But she had to lay the groundwork carefully. “At your request we have already dispatched a vessel to Asuka III to get a first hand picture of the situation on the ground,” she told the president and then turned to the ambassador. “I am not quite sure what other kind of assistance you would like us to provide.”

“I would hate to ask for much more,” the ambassador said. “We don’t want to appear weak and dependent on the Federation. However our close relationship has always been under the assumption that the vast resources of the Federation will be used to help us whenever we find ourselves in need of them.”

Vast resources? the Admiral contemplated sarcastically. Clearly you haven’t read the latest Starfleet recruitment reports.

“I would also rather refrain from having to ask to officially invoke the provision of the FWA act. I believe it would be more beneficial to all of us if we found a different, perhaps less drastic measure to solve our problems,” the ambassador added.

At this both the president and Sill exchange a quick, concerned glance.

“Mister Ambassador,” Sill quickly interjected. “You know that you can count on any kind of humanitarian and medical assistance that Starfleet is able to offer in order to minimize the impact the current fighting will have on the civilian population of Asuka III.”

Fujiwara bowed respectfully in his chair. “My government appreciates this gesture. But we fear that this will only treat the symptoms of the problem and do little to help and cure the cause.”

“Mister President, I have Captain Westmorland from the Tripoli for you on subspace,” the voice of the secretary announced.

“Thank you, Anxara,” Kentii’la replied before addressing the room. “I have for this connection to the Tripoli in order to hear from a source close to scene,” he said and then nodded at Sill.

The Bolian got the cue and activated a few panels on a computer console. “Captain Westmorland, this is Treluk Sill, special counsel to the president. You have come through to the office of President Kentii’la who will be able to hear you now. Also present is Ambassador Fujiwara and Admiral Tessier.”

Thank you, sir. Mister President. Mister Ambassador. Admiral,” the captain’s voice was understandingly reverent if not a little rough. The voice of a man not used to speak in front of politicians and most likely ill at ease at the prospect. He was probably thankful that due to their physical distance, an audio connection was all had been able to be establish on short notice.

The president spoke first. “Captain, first of all, please make sure that you will extend my thanks to your valiant crew for undertaking this assignment.”

Tessier couldn’t quite suppress a hint of a smile. Like they had any say in the matter.

“We are very curious to hear what you have seen so far.”

There was a short pause as if the good captain needed a few moment to consider how best to explain what he had to say to the most powerful man in the Federation. “Mister President, the people we have encountered here on Asuka so far have been thrust right into the middle of a blood feud between the three ruling families without little hope of escaping the resulting collateral damage. At this point we estimated that in just a little less than six weeks of fighting at least six hundred thousand people have been affected.”

“That is about thirty percent of the entire population,” the ambassador chimed in.

Kentii’la appeared genuinely concerned by those figures.

“Unfortunately since the assassination of the prefect the local government has all but dissolved as most officials have declared their allegiance to one of the clans. The Nyuchiban security forces are overwhelmed and have for the most part retreated to reinforced positions. We have also seen signs that some of the violence is spreading to neighboring planets. The single most aggressive family is the Yoritomo daimyo which has already declared that it will purge the entire planet from foreign influences. According to Yoritomo leaders this includes anyone who is not connected with their daimyo.”

The president placed both of his palms flat onto his desk, a sign that he didn’t like what he was hearing.

“Captain, this is Admiral Tessier. In your opinion do you think that Starfleet involvement would help pacify the planet or further deteriorate the situation?”

Sill threw the admiral a look which made it clear he didn’t appreciate the question. The ambassador however nodded approvingly.


“The people we have spoken to are weary of the families and would support any measure to bring stability back to the planet. We have evacuated over three hundred Federation citizens most of which report that the majority of the population is hoping for Federation intervention. However I must stress that I’m convinced that it would take a significant number of ground forces in order to restore order on Asuka III.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Sill said before Tessier could put forth a follow up. He glanced at the president who gave him an affirming nod. “The president and the rest of us appreciate your thorough report. We will be in contact with you again should we deem it necessary.”

“Thank you, Mister President.”

The Bolian counsel operated the controls again and the link was terminated.

“Mister Ambassador,” the president began. “In light of this report I suggest you allow us some time to consider what we have heard so far and reconvene at a later time.”

It wasn’t a suggestion at all and the ambassador understood. He left his chair. “Certainly, Mister President. I remain optimistic that together we will arrive at a mutually agreeable solution to solve this dire crisis. But please keep in mind that the longer the wait the higher the number of casualties.”

Tessier rolled her eyes. She was getting bored with the political niceties of these men. Why didn’t they just come out and say what they meant instead of hiding threats behind mostly empty words.

The president gave the ambassador a nod.

“Mister President,” Fujimoto said and bowed gracefully. He threw curt nods at the other two persons in attendance before striding confidently towards the exit.

Sill waited patiently until the heavy doors had closed behind the diplomat before he turned to Kentii’la. “He will not wait long before pressuring us with the FWA.”

The president nodded in agreement and looked at the Starfleet officer. “Admiral, do you really believe that our best option is to use military means to stabilize Asuka III?”

Sill frowned but Tessier didn’t pay it any attention. “The best option to ensure Asuka isn’t lost to unsympathetic factions? Yes,” she proclaimed and stood from her chair.

The Bolian shook his head. “It would be a mistake to send Starfleet or even the Marines down there. The Council will vehemently oppose it, not to mention the public.”

“The public doesn’t understand what’s at stake,” Tessier shot back. “We let this situation get out of hand now and we will not only lose Asuka and eventually the entire system but it will only be a matter of time until the entire confederacy will be faced with civil war. Countless lives will be lost. Twenty-eight percent of our deuterium sources will dry up within days. That is a loss Starfleet “ the entire Federation “ cannot afford. Not now.”

Sill cocked his eyebrows. “That’s a little bit of an exaggerated scenario, Admiral, don’t you think?”

Tessier shrugged. “It might be worst case but we have enough analyses who predict that exactly this will happen if we do not act quickly.”

The Federation President picked up a computer padd on his desk and glanced over it. “From the latest reports you have provided Starfleet continues to be stretched beyond capacity. How would you intend to fulfill the requirements of such a large scale operation?”

The admiral’s eyes sparkled as she stepped closed to the polished oak desk. “We can’t.”

The president threw her a surprised look.

“Our projections indicate that we would require a minimal of four hundred fifty thousand Marines in order to pacify Asuka III within three months time. Even by substituting part of that contingent with regular Starfleet personnel there simply is no way that we could gather any such number within the next six to eight months.”

“You seem to have made a lot of projections on this matter already.”

Tessier ignored the Bolian.

“Forgive me, Admiral,” Kentii’la said. “But I was under the impression you were a proponent of military intervention. And now you are proclaiming that it is impossible.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say impossible, sir. Please allow me,” she added and asked for the padd the president was still holding. She quickly entered a few commands and passed it back.

Sill rounded the desk to step next to Kentii’la’s side to spy onto the content of the padd. His wide smile was an indication of his surprise. He locked eyes with the admiral. “You must be kidding.”

“Not at all, sir,” she said flatly. “It is entirely possible and we’d able to boost Starfleet ranks to pre-war strengths within weeks. All we need is your go ahead.”

The president placed the padd onto his desk. Upside down. Tessier knew it was a no go.

“Admiral Tessier,” Sill began, his smile fading slightly. “You know this administration’s stance on cyborg technology. The president will not allow the Federation’s first and last line of defense to be computerized.”

Tessier looked at Kentii’la who did not reciprocate the eye contact.

“Mister President, with all due respect, I understand the fear and apprehension about cyborg technology better than most. I have fought against the Borg and seen many of my fellow men assimilated in front of my very eyes. I’ve seen how they wiped out an entire fleet of starship in mere minutes and dissected a whole planet of sentient beings in less than a day. But we have to look forward and stop looking into the past for fear of the future. During the War, countless men lost arms, legs, even part of their brains and only thanks to cybernetic technology are they able to live normal and productive lives today. The technology is available and it is only logical that we now take the next step.”

The room fell quiet and Tessier felt pretty good about herself. She could tell by the empty look in Kentii’la’s eyes that her message had been received.

The president slowly looked up at her. “I want to pursue a diplomatic course for now. Please advise Captain Westmorland to attempt and contact the leaders of the respective daimyos on Asuka III.”

Tessier was stunned.

“That would be all, Admiral. Thank you for your time,” Sill said, his smile as wide as ever.

She gave the Bolian a curt nod before venturing one more glance at her commander-in-chief behind the desk. His dark eyes never wavered. “Thank you, Mister President,” she said and quickly left.

Goddamn politicians.
005 - "Who's Gonna Clean Up This Mess?" by CeJay

005 “ “Who’s Gonna Clean Up This Mess?”


“Boss, you alright?”

Gavin had found Tank just a few meters from the flaming train wreckage. He of course wouldn’t have admitted it openly but he was greatly relieved when he found the imposing man apparently healthy and walking around, alas a bit confused it appeared.

“Have you seen my damn arm?”

And only then did Gavin realize that it was gone. His tight black shirt was ripped, exposing much of his muscular torso and his pants looked badly burned. But it was the glaring absence of the large limb which was most dazzling. There was no sign of blood and Tank showed not the slightest indication of the pain usually associated with such a severe injury.

It took Gavin a few moments to overcome the shock of seeing his partner sans right arm. Once he had, he hastily turned to scan his surrounding which were covered in debris. “Uh, no.”

“It has to be here somewhere,” he muttered and effortlessly turned around a large piece of smoldering metal with his only remaining hand. He found nothing underneath. “Any casualties?”

The young operative looked back towards were the train had come to a stop no three hundred meters down the track. “The train’s automatic safety systems triggered an emergency stop after it had detected the explosions. A few passengers were banged up but I don’t think it’s anything serious.”

“Good,” Tank replied without ever interrupting his search for the missing limb. “The last thing we need now are casualties.”

“Right,” Gavin muttered.

Not a moment later a procession of emergency shuttles and hovers arrived at the scene. The emergency response units mostly consisted out of the San Francisco County and San Mateo County Rescue Departments. But Gavin also noticed three mostly white shuttles which carried the distinctive Starfleet delta on their hulls. He knew it would spell trouble.

“What happened here?”

Gavin had not noticed the man approach them from the other direction. To his credit Tessho Masamune was not a person who stood out much. The short man with a thinning head of white hair and somewhere between middle and advanced age simply did not strike an imposing figure. However he possessed a sharp and analytical mind which age had been unable to deteriorate. In fact the opposite appeared to be true. He was clad in a long brown coat and relied on a simple black cane to steady his steps as he approached the two operatives. If he had any concerns about the flames nearby he didn’t show them.

“And where is your arm?”

Tank shot the older man an upset glance before returning to search the debris.

“It was Black, Chief,” Gavin explained. “He left us a little present. Fortunately we were able to evacuate all the passengers in time.”

Masamune placed both his hands on top of his cane as he surveyed the scene of destruction before him. Firefighters had already begun to combat the flames with increasing success. “And from your sour expressions I take it that Mister Black eluded you.”

The silence was answer enough.

“I look forward to reading your after-action report,” he stated dryly and then began to walk off towards the recently arrived shuttles. A number of Starfleet officers had emerged and Masamune had quickly identified the person in charge. A blue skinned Andorian man with two short antennae emerging from his white haired head.

Gavin looked after him. “He didn’t look too upset about it.”

Tank stopped and shot his partner an impatient glare. “Will you stop just standing around and help me find my goddamn arm.”

Masamune moved towards the Starfleet officer with determined stride. “Captain …”

“Whren. Captain Whren,” the Andorian said when he noticed Masamune approach him. “Starfleet Security. And you must be Mister Masamune from MSD.

“You are well informed, Captain,” the shorter man replied.

The Starfleet officer put on a self-important smile as he glanced upon the fiery wreck that had just a few minutes earlier been a high-speed commuter train. “Quite a bit of destruction your men caused here today,” he said and then looked at the short official. “But we’ll be more than happy to assist you in any way we can.”

“Excellent,” Masamune replied with a smile of his own. “You’d assist us the most if you get back into your shuttles and leave.”

“I beg your pardon?” the Starfleet officers’ smile dropped off his face.

“I believe you heard me. This is an official Municipal Safety investigation and at this point I’m neither asking nor tolerating Starfleet interference,” he said. Then he quickly turned towards two young Starfleet officers wearing thick protective gloves who were carefully lifting a smoldering piece of wreckage. “You drop that, that’s evidence in a crime scene.”

The two officers froze and looked at the short man with puzzled expressions.

“Yes, I’m talking to you two. Leave that where you found it.”

They complied hesitantly.

“Mister Masamune, we are here on direct orders from Admiral Tessier,” said Whren who didn’t fail to spot the frown on Masamune’s face when he mentioned his superior. “We are to assist in rescue operations and in determining the responsible parties for this … disaster,” he declared stone-faced. “I intend to follow those orders.”

“Well captain the way I see it you have two options.”

“And what would those be?”

“You can either follow my friendly suggestion and leave now.”

“Or?”

Masamune turned around and walked away slowly. “I’m placing you and all your men under arrest for willful interference with an official investigation. I’m sure Admiral Tessier would be delighted to pick you up from the city’s detention center. You have two minutes to make up your mind.”

“You’re bluffing,” the Andorian called after him.

A white hover with blaring sirens pulled up close to Masamune. Jackson Slade quickly jumped out of the vehicle. His eyes were focused with utter disbelief on the scattered debris and the firefighters suppressing the last few remaining flames. “Tank,” he whispered in an angry tone.

“Slade, call in additional units and inform them that we are taking roughly thirty individuals into custody,” the chief told him loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to overhear.

Slade looked at him and then at the infuriated Starfleet officer. His skin had now taken on a much darker shade of blue. “You’re treading on dangerous ground here, Mister Masamune.”

The chief took his time to turn and face the Starfleet officer. “You have made your choice then?”

Whren barred his teeth momentarily but then quickly returned to his shuttle. “We’re moving out!” he announced to his men.

Slade watched the Starfleet officers depart with curiosity. “What was that all about?”

“Saber-rattling,” Masamune answered.

Slade nodded but was quickly distracted when he noticed Tank and Gavin approach. The enormously broad-chested man had been unsuccessful in locating the missing arm. Slade barely even took notice. “Damnit Tank, you were supposed to shadow Black not blow him to high heavens.”

“We didn’t blow up the train. He placed a device ““

But Slade had no intention on listening to Gavin’s explanations. “Your mission was to keep an eye on Black and see if he would eventually lead us to Grayson. How the hell are we going to explain this?” he asked angrily, pointing at the field of debris. “You better pray nobody was killed in this inferno.”

“Yeah that was a bang-up plan,” Tank replied through gritted teeth and with rising anger. “Have you been awake for the last few months? This guy has been able to give us the slip every single time. We are supposed to be a proactive law enforcement unit which takes actions instead of sitting on their butts all day. We tried to bring the guy in and answer some ““

“Bring him in?” Slade couldn’t believe his ears. He shot a quick glance at Masamune but didn’t find much support there. “Have you lost your mind completely? Your mission parameters were to--”

“Screw the mission parameters!” Tank shot back.

Slade’s words got stuck in his throat.

“Listen,” Gavin began much more calmly. “We had very little on this Black character to begin with. We know he is instrumental in the stims trade in the city and we have strong suspicions that he might work for Grayson but that’s it. At least now we have some real charges with which we can go after him.”

Slade laughed sarcastically. “Yeah if he ever decides to show his face again after this. Trying to pin charges on Black does not justify the mess you made here today.”

“We made? Right,” Tank looked past Slade. “Are you listening to this, old man?”

Masamune just rolled his eyes.

“How about you stop trying to blame us for everything that goes screwy around here and try to be helpful for once. A lot real strange things happened on this train.”

Slade decided to look at the more tranquil Gavin for answers. “What does he mean by that?”

“Well, some of the passengers attacked us.”

“Attacked?”

“Yeah,” Gavin explained, sounding as if he hadn’t convinced himself yet. “When we tried to apprehend Black some of the passengers turned against us.”

“That’s amazing,” another voice interrupted.

All heads turned to find a slight young woman standing next to Slade’s hover. She seemed to be bursting with excitement. “Did you say they turned against you once your suspect tried to get away?”

Gavin exchanged a questioning glance with Slade. “Yeah?”

“And this suspect of yours, this Mister …”

“Black,” Gavin helped out.

“This Mister Black did he appear to be cybernized?” she asked.

“I’d say.”

“What are you getting at?” asked Slade.

She took a dramatic breath. “Well I guess we would need to thoroughly analyze and interview the passengers but from what I’ve heard so far I think these people have been hacked.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Tank replied immediately. “It was at least ten or fifteen of them and besides Black didn’t even have a dataport. And who are you anyway?”

“Case. Bobbie Case,” she said with a wide smile and quickly pumped Tank’s remaining arm, only now realizing that the other one was missing. It didn’t seem to disturb her much. “I’m your new cybernetics expert and it’s a pleasure to meet you. All of you,” she said, her words pouring out of her mouth. She quickly moved around to shake everyone’s hand when she stumbled over something on the ground. “What’s this?” she asked as she picked up what looked like a long piece of metal. It was badly scorched and so heavy she needed both hands to lift it.

Tank’s eyes opened wider.

Case quickly recognized it. “I’d be damned. That’s a Poseidon X-550 Cy-Member. What’s that doing here?”

Tank easily snatched the large piece out of her hands. “That’s mine, thank you very much,” he said as he inspected it. The artificial skin had almost completely burned off and the metal was ruptured in many places, baring the circuitry underneath. “Great, it’s ruined.”

“You know I can fit you with an X-600 if you like. It’s much more resilient,” she said.

“ Bobbie,” began Gavin, trying to regain her attention. “Do you think that somebody could hack into other people enhancers without the use of a dataport?”

The blonde woman shrugged her shoulders. “It’s theoretically possible. If his enhancers are powerful enough and he has the required skills “ and I’m talking about crazy good skills here “ then sure why not? He could override the firewalls and hijack somebody who is fitted with brain enhancers and low class firewalls. It probably would have to be very rudimentary commands if a lot of receivers were involved.”

“Dear God,” Gavin said. “If this is true this guy is a whole lot more dangerous than we ever thought.”

Slade turned to his boss who had remained suspiciously quiet. “What do you think, Chief?”

Masamune looked at his team for a moment, apparently deep in though. Then he glanced over the debris. The fires had been put out which meant the hard work was only just about to begin. “I think that we might need some help on this one.”
006 - "Another Way of Life Awaits." by CeJay

006 “ “Another Way of Life Awaits.”


“You have been brainwashed to believe that the Federation is the single greatest organization in the galaxy, that as one of its citizens you can express yourself more freely, be more productive and happier than any other creature in the known universe. What they have done is blind you to the fact that there is another way to live your life. Another way to find fulfillment then simply to look for ways to better yourself within a framework which by its very design is limiting the achievements of the individual. Of course they don’t want you to know about those other ways. The powers that be want to keep you in your current state, they do not want you to ask questions or long for another existence. Those who hold the power in our society want to remain in power and want to keep you away from it. But more than anything else they want to continue to maintain the status quo and suppress your most basic, your most natural development.


You might not necessarily agree with what I have to say. You might even tell yourself that you are happy just the way you are. You are not hungry or thirsty, you don’t suffer from any incurable ailments, you are not physically oppressed by the authorities and you will sleep in a warm bed tonight. Yes, all this is true. But the true crime, the true injustice, is the one you might not even have realized yet. It is the world that has been pulled in front of your eyes to blind you from the truth.

The Federation is destroying humanity and our alien brothers along with it by imposing on us rules and laws which go against the very core of what it means to be human. It is taking away focus, drive, ambition and yes, true happiness. We humans and most other races have not always been like this. Read any historical text and you find that once we were a culturally rich and diverse people, shaped by many circumstances. We were poor, we were hungry and we fought with each other and we even settled our conflicts through wars. But we were also rich and fulfilled and made peace. In short our lives had purpose.

Many of our brothers decided to follow this dream by leaving Earth and the Federation. Some succeeded, many others failed. But we should not have to run away from who we truly are. We must return to our true ways. All of us. Let those who do not wish to embrace their humanity leave our home.”

Roaring applause echoed through the lecture hall.

Michael Gary Grayson had captured the minds and hearts of the one-hundred plus people sitting in the audience, winning them over like he had done countless times before with his charm and flawless oratory style.

The light levels rose and the handsome dark haired man of thirty-five smiled at his audience with utter confidence. People had always flocked to him and it wasn’t always just because of his message. His boyish good looks and sparkling brown eyes worked like magnets, often swaying even the most stubborn of skeptics.

“This is why I have founded the Grayson Institute. Here as well as at many other locations throughout the Federation you can learn about the future I propose. About a new way for humanity and the entire galaxy. You will be able to learn firsthand of how I envision a new order that will make us not only the most powerful empire in the known galaxy which no longer has to fear foreign invaders but will make you the most fulfilled generation in the history of this planet. I will now take a few questions.”

A spotlight quickly picked up the first person.

“Will you be running for elected office in order to further your agenda?”

“No,” Grayson replied. “I have no plans to run for any kind of office. In fact I believe that entering political office makes individuals much more likely to be corrupted by the system. Instead we will change the system from the outside and force those in power to give in to our demands.”

“Mister Grayson,” a young woman began. “Some label you an anarchist with no interests beyond disrupting public order. How do you answer to those allegations?”

“An excellent question,” the speaker replied with a beaming smile and stepped away from his podium. “First of all, those who call me an anarchist have neither taken the interest nor the time to understand my vision. I am the exact opposite of an anarchist. I propose stringent laws to guide our society, more stringent even than those we suffer under now. The difference is that they are nothing like the laws the Council or the President would feel comfortable with. It’s easy to label me an anarchist if I disagree with your entire political construct. For that is all it is. A weak and unstable construct, ready to be torn down.”

There were cheers again.

“What do you say to those who claim connections between you and organized crime, specifically in this city, and who see you as a producer and distributor of illegal substances?”

Grayson lost his composure for less than a second. Most in the audience never noticed. His smile hardly ever faltered at all. “You have to understand,” he began slowly, looking directly at the man who had posed the question, “that these people are afraid of me. Very afraid. I … we all are a great threat to their continued existence, serving an outdated system. It is no surprise then that they try to find a way, any way to get rid of me, even if that means to circulate rumors and lies.”

“Are you saying that you have nothing to do with the stims trade?” the insistent man asked.

A few mumbles rose from the crowd.

Grayson looked at his audience. “Some people have called me a thinker, a philosopher, a revolutionist even. But I am no criminal. Stims are illegal and I will not now nor ever condone their use.”

Before another question could be raised, Grayson quickly spoke again. “I think a short recess is in order. I have shared much with you today and I’m sure you will need some time to reflect on what you have heard.”

Grayson bowed before his audience which didn’t hesitate to give him a loud standing ovation. Not everyone did. The dark-haired lecturer turned and walked off the stage.

< Find out who asked that last question and get him out of here. Those questions were supposed to be screened. >

His smile was gone. Somebody would pay for this oversight.
007 - "Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow." by CeJay

007 “ “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow.”


It was freezing and it was hardly a surprise. It was winter in Nepal and at roughly fifteen thousand feet above sea level in the middle of the snow covered Himalayan valleys the temperature was way below freezing point.

It was a beautiful sight of massive, powder white mountains as far as the eye could see, untouched by civilization ever since the world had begun. The nearest town lay over fifty miles away and there wasn’t the slightest indication that any sentient being had ever even been close to this place.

And yet a dark green sub-atmospheric shuttle held position right in between the valley as if ready for something unseen to begin at any moment.

Inside Gavin shuddered. He wore a thick thermo-jacket especially designed to preserve body heat and it was still not enough. “We’ve been here for almost two hours,” he said, referring to a small computer padd he had brought. “What is he waiting for?”

“Who knows what goes through the old man’s head,” said Tank who kept flexing his massive right arm which looked exactly like the old one had.

“I don’t think I could get used to the idea of exchanging body parts like defective machinery.”

“You should consider going cybernetic,” said Tank and snatched the padd out of Gavin’s hand. Within moments he had crushed the sturdy little device into a useless ball of poly-metal. “And I have to give it to our new girl, she does know her stuff,” he added and placed the crushed padd back into Gavin’s hand.

“Thanks, I was using that.”

Tank smirked. “So, are you ready to get upgraded yet?”

Gavin studied what was formerly a data padd. “I think I’ll stick to my flesh and blood for now. I’m quite fond of it actually.”

The cybernetically enhanced operative grunted with annoyance. “You almost sound like those New Gaia nut jobs,” he said.

“Don’t compare me to those lunatics, they’re nothing but a bunch of criminals” the young agent said and stood. “And talking about criminals, we should be trying to track down Black and not go on expeditions halfway around the globe.” He crossed through the empty cabin of the craft which allowed enough space for a dozen men and poked his head into the cockpit.

Hailey ‘Hot Rod’ Rodgers sat in the pilot’s chair. The brown skinned Jamaican woman also wore a jacket and had covered her tight cornrows with a black wool hat. She was obviously suffering as well and kept rubbing her palms together in an attempt to stay warm.

Next to her sat Masamune, in a long elegant coat which didn’t appear to be the right fashion choice at all. His eyes were closed and his chin rested on his chest. He was sleeping, Gavin couldn’t believe it.

“Hey Hot Rod, how much longer can we hold this position?”

She glanced at her instruments. “Another two hours at least,” she replied with a sympathetic smile on her lips. “I’m afraid there is no aborting this due to low fuel.”

“Whatever this is,” Gavin replied and moved in closer to the pilot. “Is he sleeping?” he asked with a gentle nod towards Masamune.

Hot Rod simply shrugged.

“And I take it he didn’t tell you what we’re doing here either.”

She shook her head. “He just said to hold position right here and wait,” she glanced at her instruments again. “That was exactly ninety-two minutes ago. As to what we are waiting for. Your guess is as good as mine.”

The rookie agent looked at his boss' unmoving face. “Maybe he just needed to come here to think. But why the hell did he drag us along for this? Hey Hot Rod,” he said and shot her a conspiratorial glance. “I’m sure he wouldn’t notice if we changed course for someplace a bit warmer. What do you say we shoot over to Thailand? I hear they have great beaches?”

The pilot grinned. “I would but I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Enough fooling around.”

Gavin whipped his head to the side. Masamune was not in fact sleeping at all.

“Contrary to popular belief we did not come here for no reason,” the older man said, keeping his eyes closed.

Gavin walked back into the main cabin. “Maybe you would like to share then, boss.”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

And then, just as if on cue, something landed on top of the shuttle with a loud bang. The vehicle rocked slightly but Hot Rod kept her stable easily enough.

Gavin reached instinctively for his Enforcer and eyed the ceiling of the craft suspiciously. Something was moving above their heads. Last time something like that had happened to him, it had turned out to be a very bad day indeed.

“What the hell is that?” Tank asked who had also been rattled by the sudden noise.

“I don’t know,” came Hot Rod’s voice from the cockpit. “But we just took on a lot more weight.”

“Keep her steady,” Masamune said, stood and walked into the back cabin. “Would you be so good as to open the door?” he asked Gavin.

The agent hesitated but then did what he was told. A large side panel slid open, blowing cold wind and snow into the cabin. Gavin pulled his coat tighter.

All three of them looked at the open door expectantly. Gavin and Tank had their weapons drawn and at the ready, Masamune showed no signs of trepidation whatsoever.

And then she appeared, landing on the deck of the SAFVe with all the grace and skill of a ballet dancer. And even though most of her body was covered by a heavy white polar jacket, it was obvious from her body shape and her slender legs that she was a well proportioned woman of average height. A hood covered most of her face but two bright green eyes carefully surveyed the three men in front of her from behind clear goggles.

Gavin slightly raised his gun.

“A bit jumpy, aren’t we?” she asked.

The voice sounded familiar to Tank. “Well we didn’t exactly expect anyone to come leaping into our shuttle from the middle of nowhere.”

The woman glanced at Masamune. “You didn’t tell your people to expect guests? How very typical of you.”

She zipped open the upper part of her jacket and then pulled down the hood to reveal her face and let her black hair fall free.

Gavin couldn’t help but gasp with surprise. She was a real looker. Perfectly smooth white skin, high cheekbones and full red lips she looked impossibly out of place and the last person to expect wandering alone in the Himalayas on a cold winter day. And he still couldn’t understand where she had come from; they were after all hovering hundreds of feet above solid ground.

“I’ll be damned,” Tank exclaimed and put away his Enforcer. “LT? Is that really you?”

“Tank, it’s been a while,” she said with a small smile, breaking those full lips.

“LT!” Tank couldn’t contain his excitement as he quickly approached her and took the slender woman in a bear hug, easily lifting her off the ground.

Gavin scratched his head. He had never seen his partner so cheerful before.

“It’s good to see you too,” she said. “But you mind putting me down now? You could crush somebody with those arms or yours.”

He laughed, it sounded like rumbling stones actually, and set her back down. “Like you couldn’t take it,” he said, placed her back down and looked her over. “How have you been? What have you been up to?”

Masamune took a step forward. “I’m sure you have a lot of question for her, Tank, but it will have to wait,” he said and looked at the woman. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

She looked at him and nodded. Then she put her hood back on. “Follow me,” she said just before she leaped out of the shuttle again.

“Hot Rod,” Masamune said.

“I’m on her,” the pilot replied and set the SAFVe in motion. “She’s got some moves.”

“Yeah,” Tank agreed as he watched her land on the nearby mountain range some three hundred meters away. She rolled in the snow and quickly got onto her feet again only to take off running up the slope. “That’s the LT for you,” he said and then looked angrily at Masamune. “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to meet her?”

But the old man didn’t reply. Instead he walked back into the cockpit to take his seat. “Make sure you don’t lose her,” he said to Hot Rod.

“Anybody wanna fill me in here?” Gavin asked.
008 - "First Day On The Job And Ready to Roll." by CeJay
008 “ “First Day On The Job And Ready to Roll.”


“So how do you like our facilities? Not too shabby compared to MIT, I hope.”

Bobbie Case turned in her chair. She sat at a half-circle of monitors and computer stations in a decently sized room which was packed with terminals. It was designed to allow up to ten persons simultaneous access to FedNet and the far wall was entirely transparent, permitting for an amazing view on downtown San Francisco and the bay. Federation Plaza dominated the skyline, looming large like a lone man standing in a field of low grass.

The young woman smiled and took out the sucker she had in her mouth. “It’ll have to do,” she said with little shrug.

Slade frowned. “Well you know you can always go back.”

Case glanced out of the window, making an effort to look contemplative. “Nah,” she said after a moment. “I like it here.”

“Listen, I know that we’re throwing you into the deep end but the old man chose you for a reason. Your test scores were through the roof and your aptitude test showed that you can handle yourself under pressure,” Jackson Slade sounded as if trying to convince himself as he looked suspiciously at the thin stick poking out from in-between her bright red lips. “What is that?”

“Oh this?” she asked and removed the sucker. It held a brown arrow shaped sweet at its end. “Jumja stick,” she explained. “You want one? I’ve got tons.”

“I think I’ll pass on that.”

She nodded. “Good choice. They’re delicious but immensely addictive. I really need to cut down,” Case said and placed the sucker back into her mouth. She turned to her computer terminals again. “Please don’t think that I’m not grateful for this opportunity, because I really am. I just wish I could have thanked Mister Masamune some more but he was in such a hurry to leave,” she explained, managing to make herself understood perfectly even with the large piece of candy in her mouth. She obviously had plenty of experience.

“I’m sure he got the message,” Slade said and smirked, recalling the furious handshakes and hugs the youthful lady had dished out after returning to headquarters.

The blonde analyst pulled back her long hair and attached a small, disc shaped dataport to the side of her neck. It would allow her to sync with the computer faster and it also provided additional protection when diving through the sometimes dangerous world of FedNet.

Slade followed suit.

The window darkened as it turned itself into a large computer screen, displaying satellite footage of a speeding train.

Slade watched intently.

“We had full coverage of the train from the moment our people boarded it,” Bobbie explained. “Let me skip ahead to the relevant bits.”

The image shifted and zoomed closer to the train. Then Slade could see it. A black figure had appeared on top of the train. The man was moving down the roof with apparent ease.

“He’s definitely cybernized,” he observed.

The train cars disconnected leaving just one lone car in the middle. Tank appeared on the roof of the middle carriage but Slade focused on the black-clad man instead.

“Now look closely,” she said as the image zoomed closer again, making it possible to make out the man’s movements. The train car exploded, the image flickered and Black was gone.

“How does he do that?”

Case deactivated the screen and looked at him. “I don’t know but it’s pretty darn impressive. It could be that he’s hacking the satellite. I will have to pull up its programming and see if it has been tampered with. If it has perhaps I can establish a back trace.”

Slade nodded. “Get Travin Eldex to help you, he specializes in this kind of thing.”

“It still take a while.”

“What else you’ve got?”

Bobbie took out the sucker and leaned back into her chair. “I’ve looked at the witness testimonies and it looks like about six passengers have reported a small gap in their memories and a state of confusion while being on the train.”

“That would correspond with the number of people Tank and Gavin said attacked them.”

“That’s right. I want to have a closer look at their enhancers. If they have been hacked it might be possible to find evidence of that.”

Slade shook his head. “None of them have given us permission to do that.”

She stood. “What? Why not?”

“Beats me. But we can’t get into the enhancers without them allowing us to. It’d be a violation of the Privacy Act otherwise,” Slade explained. “I’ve spoken to most of them and to be honest I think some might have been using stims recently. If that’s the case obviously they wouldn’t want us to go snooping through their enhanced brains.”

“We should get a court order,” Case replied with rising excitement.

Slade gave her a smile. So young and eager but still so much to learn. “No judge in the Federation would grant us one. Not while all we have are suspicions. And quite frankly it sounds a bit ludicrous too. That some cybernized criminal could hack into a dozen people simultaneously while at the same time setting off a bomb, manipulate a secure observation satellite and escaping from two of our best trained agents.”

“It’s not impossible,” she pouted.

“You’re a cybernetics expert, Bobbie, stick to that for now and leave the investigating to the field agents, alright?” he said and walked off.

“You know I do have a Starfleet accredited advanced weapons certification,” she called after him. “I could be a field agent too,” Bobbie added more quietly.

Slade waved her a hand over his shoulder just before slipping out of the room.

One thing at the time, I guess, she thought as she shoved the miniature jumja sucker into her mouth again and plopped herself back in the chair.
009 - "An Offer You Cannot Refuse?" by CeJay
009 “ “An Offer You Cannot Refuse?”


The young woman moved through the snowy and steep terrain with inhuman speed. She practically leaped from one mountain to the next and Hot Rod found it difficult to keep up with her and not just because the white clad woman was difficult to make out against the snow covered landscape.

The chase, for that was what it seemed like, ended after a few minutes when she dived off a precipice, performed a perfect forward somersault before landing on her feet in a small village a hundred feet below.

Gavin had watched her every move with astonishment. “Holy crap,” he said when she had landed safely instead of shattering into a million pieces.

Tank had a large smile plastered on his face. “She does like theatrics.”

Moments later Hot Rod landed the green shuttle in the village square. Village was perhaps an exaggeration. The mountain settlement seemed to consist out of no more than half a dozen simple huts. The young woman quickly walked towards one and disappeared inside. Besides her there was no sign of any other inhabitants. It wasn’t a surprise as Gavin quickly realized; an icy cold wind blew across the valley.

The three men followed her inside.

The hut was as simple from the inside as it had appeared from the outside. A table, a chair, a bed and a computer console next to it were all the furnishings to be found. Over invisible speakers soft music played, a man signing of his fondness for Rock and Roll Music. The record sounded positively ancient.

The woman had discarded her coat and goggles and leaned against the wall next to an open fireplace. The licking flames were keeping the hut comfortably warm and bright. Gavin made an effort not to ogle her perfect body now clad in nothing but a skintight suit which left little to the imagination.

Masamune walked right up to her. “Nice place you have here. A bit difficult to get to.”

“That was the idea.”

“I see your tastes in music haven’t changed,” said Tank, trying to find the source of the soft tune filling the room. “How long have you been on Earth?” he asked as he inspected the hut. “What have you been up to?”

It took her one thought to pause the playback. “I’ve been keeping busy since the War. I travel a lot.”

Gavin cleared his throat which caused the young woman to shoot him a sweet smile. She eyed the elderly man. “Introductions?”

Masamune nodded. “Certainly. Mister Gavin Thorgood meet Miss McLaren.”

“Call me Mech,” she said.

“A pleasure, Mech.”

“I wish I could offer you some refreshments but I’m afraid the nearest replicator is twenty-five miles out and I haven’t had the time to shop.”

“That’s quite alright,” Masamune replied, missing or ignoring the sarcasm in her voice. “We didn’t come here for refreshments.”

She nodded. “All business as usual.”

“Gentlemen,” he said addressing his two subordinates. “Could you give us some privacy please.”

Both men gave him a ‘you gotta be kidding me look’. This was the most comfortable place they had seen in hours. Masamune was not kidding. He hardly ever did.

Begrudgingly they left, returning to the icy cold outside.

“You have to stop being so hard on your people. Someday they might decide to stop following your orders,” Mech said.

“I only recruit people I can trust.”

She nodded slowly. “I remember. Is that why you came here? To recruit me again?”

Masamune found a lone chair and sat down, placing both his hands on top of his ivory topped cane. “Yes.”

She didn’t reply right away. Instead he noticed her fiddling with a silver ring she wore on her left index finger. “You don’t think that making myself difficult to find is not a clear hint towards my inclination on that matter?”

“What I think,” Masamune began, “is that you miss your old life. The galaxy is a vast place and if you really wanted to be left alone there are a lot more remote places than Nepal. I think that for the past few years you’ve been aimlessly moving from one place to the next and diving through FedNet, seeking answers to questions you haven’t come one bit closer to finding.”

She looked up, a small smile on her lips perfectly masked her true thoughts. “Is that what you think?”

“Tell me if I’m wrong.”

Mech turned her head to look into the flames. “Maybe you’re not.”

“Then come back with me to San Francisco. The city needs people like you right now. I have formed an elite unit and you would be perfect to lead it.”

She looked right at Masamune when she spoke again. “CCiD? I’ve heard about it. They got you out of retirement to do this and yet they have refused to expand your remit beyond Earth. Federation politicians get cold feet when they hear of commando style law enforcement units.”

“You always have been well informed. And yes, they have limited our jurisdiction for now. But we only just started. Once those in power see what we can do I have no doubt they’ll reconsider.”

“Things must look pretty bad if they decided to bring you in.”

“They’re afraid, mostly. Crime has been on the decline for centuries on Earth. Until now,” Masamune said and stood. “This won’t be like Nyuchiba.”

“I know,” Mech replied. “It’ll be worse. Overcautious politicians will be analyzing every move we make. You cannot run an effective preemptive crime fighting outfit on this world. It simply won’t work.”

“So you will not help us?”

She turned away. “I don’t see how you would benefit from it. And quite honestly I don’t see any benefit for me either.”

“Very well. I will not try to convince you otherwise,” he said and walked towards the door.

Mech looked almost disappointed.

Masamune turned before he had reached the wooden door. “It was good to see you again.”

She nodded.

“You should try to stay in touch,” he added. For a few moments they locked eyes. But they exchanged no more words. Masamune opened the door and stepped outside. A few moments later the SAFVe was heading back for Northern California at multiple times the speed of sound.
010 - "Who Runs This Town, Anyway?" by CeJay
010 “ “Who Runs This Town, Anyway?”


“Who the hell does Masamune think he is?” Selina Tessier fumed and flung the padd back onto her silver-metallic desk.

“We should escalate this matter,” Captain Whren suggested.

“To where?” she replied. “The mayor? She already doesn’t like us as is and would surely side with him any day. And the UE is just going to relegate us back to the city council which takes its orders from the mayor. No, there is no point in doing much about this.”

The Andorian frowned, his antennae twitching slightly, mirroring his displeasure. “He can’t just walk around town threatening to arrest our people. We had as much right as he had to look at that crime scene.”

The admiral stood from her desk. “Perhaps. But Masamune knows that at the moment he has the upper hand and he will milk it for all it's worth,” she said with frustration and turned to look out of the large window of her office which allowed for a beautiful view of Golden Gate Bridge. “There is palpable tension in this city, I can sense it from the smell in the air. And the whole planet, the entire Federation is looking upon us. Whatever happens here will be felt in Paris and far beyond.”

“From your somber mood I take it your meeting with the President did not go very well.”

Tessier glanced at her confidant, rubbing her temples. “They want to focus on a diplomatic solution.”

Whren shook his head with anger. “They don’t understand that this situation is already far beyond diplomacy. Maybe that would have worked if they had shown some interest in this matter a few months ago. Now is the time to put boots on the ground.”

“What we need is a feasible plan for Starfleet’s future,” Tessier said. “And if the administration and the Council is not going to begin ensure it now this might very well be the beginning of the end for us.”

“You are worried about the Tzenkethi?” the security chief asked.

“I’m worried about every single empire that has recovered from the War faster and better than we have and is patiently waiting for us to show some of our many weaknesses.”

“And you believe that that’s were Yaridian comes in? That we need to take him up on his offer?”

Tessier sat down in her chair again. “Yes. But he won’t wait for us to make a decision forever. He is not like us, he doesn’t even care about the profit he’ll be making. He just wants to see his work realized and if he can’t do that with us he might as well go to the Romulans or the Breen or the Tzenkethi.”

Whren nodded slowly.

“Something has to be done and quickly or the War will seem like nothing more than a prelude to what will come next. If only those stubborn politicians in Paris would see that.”

The Andorian didn’t reply. He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment. He didn’t even notice the admiral’s asking eyes. Whren had been a close friend and confident of hers throughout her career. She had served with the man for nearly thirty years and yet she had never been able to read him.

“What are you thinking, Whren?”

He looked at her with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Admiral. It’s just that I don’t understand. I lost most of my body in the War but what I’ve gained is living proof that what we are asking for is the logical next step to make. Sixty-five percent of the people living in this city have been equipped with brain-enhancers and all over the Federation civilians are getting cybernetic parts and yet Starfleet has been banned from any cybernetics which are not for medical purposes. It simply makes no sense to me.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me either, old friend.”

“Admiral, there is no person in the universe I trust more than you. I fought by your side against the Tzenkethi, the Borg and the Dominion and you’ve always seen the bigger picture while others weren’t able to think beyond the next battle. If you are convinced that our future depends on making a deal with the Poseidon Cooperative then I will do whatever is in my power to make it a reality.”

She nodded slowly. Whren’s loyalty was both appreciated and refreshing. Too many within and without Starfleet saw her as a hotshot, a young flag officer who had earned her stripes through combat and who had moved up the ranks of the Starfleet elite only because of the devastating personnel shortages following the War.

Sir, Admiral Quinerzos would like to speak to you,” the voice of Tessier’s adjutant interrupted the conversation.

Talking about doubters, she thought. The Starfleet Commander-in-Chief liked to keep close taps on her. One call a day had become a predictable routine.

Whren could read Tessier perfectly. “I have the upmost confidence that even Quinerzos will have to give in to your argument eventually. It is merely a matter of time.”

Tessier gave him a small smile just before he left Tessier to her daily duel with her boss. As he walked out of the office he understood better than most that Tessier’s plan was the only way to avoid for the Federation to face another dark age. He also understood that while she was trying to save them all, her hands were being tied behind her back by a paranoid administration and an overcautious Starfleet Command. He on the other hand was almost entirely free of meddlesome oversight.
011 - "Coming Courtesy Gateway 668." by CeJay
011 “ “Coming Courtesy Gateway 668.”


The most advanced firewall Mech had ever successfully hacked had been a level eight, triple-layered barrier with a 1024 bit encryption matrix. That particular firewall had consisted of approximately six hundred dummy layers and top notch safety protocols which were not only designed to keep hackers from accessing the data it was protecting but also spike their enhancers with enough force to blow past the intruders defensive firewalls, fry the enhancer and cause severe damage to the hackers central nervous system. A rookie hacker, or even a careless veteran who refused to back down could have easily ended up with severe brain damage or even death.

Gateway 668.332.109-94GT located at FedNet sub junction terra-943-2-bravo was protected by a level ten firewall, equipped with at least seven protective layers and as far as Mech could tell it was jammed packed with countless active defensive protocols just waiting at their shot to take an overzealous hacker to their early grave.

< You think this is it? > Mother asked.

< It took me nearly two years to track it down but I’ am positive that the seekers originate from this gateway. >

< So you planning on going in then? >

Mech considered this for a moment. Mother was probably the most skilled hacker she had ever met. Her own skills of course were nothing to sneeze at. Most hackers could barely get past a level six firewall, the most common software to protect such vital systems as brain enhancers, government institutions and even Starfleet starship’s computer cores. But Mother was on a different level all together. She had no idea of the limits of her abilities.

< I don’t have much of a choice >
she said. < I need to find out who is after me and why. >

< I agree. But there has to be another way. You try to get in there and you might not come out alive. >

< To be honest I was hoping for your support on this > said Mech’s avatar with a sheepish smile.

Mother said nothing.

For a moment both of them simply starred at the massive data knot, shimmering in white and green light in this dark and hidden part of FedNet. The energy pulses that seemed to run through the spherical shaped construct a sign of the buzz of activity within. Even at this relatively far distance it was sending unmistakable warning signs. Do Not Enter.

Mech’s avatar approached.

Hacking was a matter of the mind. Artificial telepathy some called it. Brain enhancers were sophisticated cybernetic devices implanted directly in a person’s brain stem and were linked with the wearer’s central nervous system. Besides improving the user’s interaction with FedNet and closed computer systems it also allowed to communicate with other cyberized persons without the use of words and over great distances. Data ports, the external chips that attached to a person’s neck, had once been a necessity to connect to FedNet. Now they were mostly used as boosters for hackers and its embedded firewalls added an additional layer of security.

Mech needed to focus all her thoughts, energy and attention on the task ahead. She could feel increasing resistance as her avatar closed on the gateway both on her virtual representation as well as on her real mind. This was the first and most obvious layer. It would be easily conquered.

Warning messages flashed before her eyes. A soulless voice spoke to her. < You are entering a restricted zone protected by aggressive firewalls. Disengage for your own safety. >

That was to be expected.

< You will risk serious injury if you attempt to access this gateway. >

Tell me something I don’t know.

< This is your last warning. Disengage now >

Last warning? You don’t exactly comply with standard FedNet regulations do you?

And then she made contact. The strange sensation of ants crawling on her skin extended to her real body. She liked the feeling.

The second barrier was tougher. Countless dummy layers popped open, inviting her to attempt to hack them by flashing in bright red and crimson colors. But only one was the real thing. The others would only waste her time. Time which the defensive protocols would use to counter-hack her enhancer and attempt to shut her down before she could find the way in.

This too she had expected. She fired up her own defensive firewalls which were designed to give her the time she needed by fighting off the counter-intruders.

So many choices, but which one gets me the jackpot?

A quick command to her enhancer activated the program she needed. Where moments ago there had only been one avatar there were now twenty. All of them looking exactly like the purple-haired figure she had been using.

A lot easier if you have some help.

Her duplicates went to work, diving through one layer access after the next, exploring where they might lead. All they found were dead ends.

< You just lost a firewall, >
a familiar but disembodied voice told her, letting her know that the defensive protocols had struck their first victory against her own defenses.

< Mother? >

< You better get a move on. >

< Well you know this would be a lot faster if you’d lend a hand. >

She laughed softly. < I like to watch. >

And then number eight struck gold.

< Eureka. >

Layer 532.23.1 was not a dummy.

She slipped through. < Two layers down, five to go. >

The next one was a slightly bigger challenge but only because the numbers had gone up. More dummy layers and less time. Mech’s firewalls were holding off the counter-attack so far but the projections were not good. She had to go faster.

No problem.

She ran the same program she had before but this time it would run two point seven percent faster. A strain on her resources but necessary.

This time Mech felt her energy fade after she had found the right layer and passed through. She could not keep this up for long. But her progress was impressive nevertheless.

Unbeknownst to her somebody else took notice of this.

< Now this next one won’t be a picnic. >

Mech was looking at a single layer this time. But it was powerful. Too powerful to keep up her copies. And it was booby trapped all over.

A dozen projectile’s shot out towards her as she neared.

She moved with the grace and speed of a ballet dancer to avoid the missile shaped defenses. Just one hit would probably have cost her a minute or two, enough time for another defensive firewall to crumble.

Her moves were as impeccable as ever. Weightlessly she dove, jumped and spun around the virtual projectiles.

And then she spotted the entrance to the next layer. It was in reach. She needed to get just a little bit closer and then could dive inside. Just a few more seconds and she’d be through.

< Get out. >

< I’m almost there. I can make it through. >

But Mother was insistent. < No, get out. >

And then she felt something else. A nagging sensation in the very back of her mind that told her that something was not right. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was exactly. The construct around her had not changed.

< Mech >
Mother said calmly. < You need to get out of FedNet now. >

Mech was torn for all but one second. Since she had met Mother she knew that one of the most foolish things she could do was to ignore her suggestions. But she had come so close, she could almost touch the entrance that would lead her into the inner core of the gateway. In the end it wasn’t a difficult decision to make.

The virtual world around her disappeared into a white flash of blinding light.

When Mech opened her eyes she was looking at the ceiling of her cabin. She was back in the real world, lying on her back on her bed. The feeling that something was wrong was still there.

In one swift motion she jumped onto her feet while at the same time retrieving the pitch black gun she kept under her pillow. Within moments she had taken a defensive posture, her weapon ready to blast away at anyone stupid enough to try and sneak up on her.

She was alone. Everything looked exactly the way it was supposed to. Nobody had set foot into the cabin for hours.

Only then did she feel the slight tremble of the floor.

Mech walked to the window to look up into the night. The majestic starry sky of Nepal was as sparkling as usual. Except for that one star. Was it not too bright? And why was it getting brighter?

The answer popped into her mind just a heartbeat later. It wasn’t a star at all.

The trembling became more noticeable by the second. She was out of time.

Mech quickly walked back to her bed. She securely fastened her weapon behind her back and picked up a silver ring she had placed on the nightstand, slipping it onto her left hand.

The only picture frame that hung on the wall, an image of the Nyuchiba City skyline, came loose and crashed to the floor with a loud bang.

Without another thought, Mech began to sprint towards the window and leaped through the glass without slowing down. It shattered easily and she landed in the soft snow outside. Not allowing herself to catch her breath, she performed a quick roll and came up running. A glance up and over her shoulder confirmed what she had already suspected.

She wasn’t moving quite fast enough.

And then it hit.

The cabin was incinerated on impact and the force of the explosion catapulted her high into the air. She came down some two hundred meters away, the dense snow softening the harsh landing. Her body communicated all kinds of pain to her brain but she wasn’t paying it too much attention. She covered her head.

A wise precaution as moments later pieces of debris landed all around her.

When Mech ventured a look from under her arms she found a flaming inferno greeting her where the small settlement had once stood.

And it was just getting homey.
012 - "Just Don't Call Her A Whiz-Kid." by CeJay

012 “ “Just Don’t Call Her A Whiz-Kid.”


< Violence continues to spread across the densely populated areas of Asuka III. Government reinforcements have been able to secure the capital of Niihama which now appears to be the last city on the planet not yet gripped by the sectarian violence. However city officials have told us that it is only a matter of time until they’ll be unable to deal with the steadily increasing number of refugees streaming into Niihama every day. There are also growing concerns that rebel groups will gain access to the city by hiding among the refugees.

Meanwhile diplomatic talks between the representatives of the Nyuchiban government and the three families vying for control of the planet held on the Starfleet vessel
Tripoli have broken down after the delegation from the Yoritomo daimyo left the Tripoli with a promise to ban all ‘enemies of Asuka’ from the surface. A spokesperson for the office of the President remained optimistic that a second round of talks will be more effective.

In other news, the UEDA has reported that one of its orbital installations malfunctions yesterday and that parts of it were slung towards Earth. According to Starfleet small fragments landed in isolated areas of South Asia yesterday at 1234 local time. No damage or injuries were reported. Starfleet and the UEDA have ruled out any foul play stating that the accident was caused by a malfunctioning subroutine which -- >

“Gavin?”

“Uh, yes?”

Slade threw the rookie and upset glance. “Are you paying attention?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Masamune indicated to Bobbie Case who stood in front of the large window which had transformed into a computer screen in CCiD’s control room to brief the team members. “Please, continue.”

“Right,” she said enthusiastically, the stick of her jumja sucker twisting between her lips as she pointed at the screen again which showed a number of columns filled with dates and numbers. “As I said before, I found it quiet suspicious that we constantly lose track of this Mister Black and decided to have a look at the programming of the satellites we’ve been using the follow his movements. What I’ve discovered ““

“Miss Case?”

She stopped herself and looked at Masamune.

“Would you mind refraining from sucking on that … thing while you give a briefing?” he asked. His voice was stern but not accusatory.

The young woman blushed. “Oh, sorry, sure,” she replied quickly and took out the sucker.

The old man gave her an approving nod.

Gavin and Tank grinned.

“As I suspected I noticed that somebody’s been hacking the satellite to disrupt the signal being fed back to us,” she explained and pointed at a column of data which had the exact date and time of the train explosion. “If you look at this protocol here you can see what the satellite’s programming should be like. Look over here and you see what it actually has been at the time of the attack. There is a clear discrepancy between ““

“But these satellites have powerful firewalls. You can’t honestly think that Black is skilled enough to hack into one of those. Especially while having his hands full getting away from us,” Tank interrupted.

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed. “And he didn’t even have a data port. No way could he boost a signal that far without some kind of backup system.”

Case shrugged. “Well if this guy can hack into enhancers and have civilians attack you then surely this ““

“That’s just a theory for now,” Jackson Slade interrupted this time.

“And a weak one at that,” added Tank.

“Yeah, well, you got a better one?” Bobbie shot back.

To that there was no answer. Gavin couldn’t help but smile. This little girl had guts, no denying that. Most people were intimidated by Tank’s massive stature to say the least. Not this one.

“Is this getting us any closer to finding Mister Black?” Masamune wanted to know.

Bobbie nodded proudly. “Yes it does.”

This quickly got everybody’s attention again.

She looked back at the screen which’s content quickly changed to isolate the irregular data pattern. “Each hacker leaves a unique signature when they make significant changes to a system’s programming. It’s not always easy to find but most of the time it’s there.”

“And you found it?” Gavin asked.

“Sure did,” she said, beaming. “See these codes here.”

A string of numbers had been highlighted on the screen.

“I believe that this is the hacker’s signature. Now this is not a guaranteed way of finding our man but I bet that if we monitor the city’s main networks and we get a match we can pinpoint Black’s location.”

Masamune seemed pleased. “Very well done.”

“Thanks. There is one catch though. The signature will not show up until Black has logged out of whatever system he is accessing.”

“Okay so that means we won’t know where he is exactly but we’ll have a general idea in which area he is operating,” Gavin pointed out, looking at Slade. “That should be good enough if we can get there quickly.”

Slade nodded. “Let’s deploy a number of teams to cover as much of the city as possible. Once we get a hit from Bobbie the team closest can zero in.”

“Make it so,” Masamune said.

Tank whistled, giving the young woman a smile. “You truly are a whiz-kid, aren’t you? Amazing.”

But Bobbie’s smile vanished. Instead she simply stared at the huge man with empty eyes. Then she shot an angry look at Slade. “Whatever,” she stated dryly and walked out of the room

The room went quiet.

Tank looked outright confused. “What I say?”

The old man headed for the exit. “Get her back here and get this operation started.”

Slade’s icy stare made Tank know that he was not happy with him. It was something he was particularly good at. “Nice going. Next time keep your big mouth shut, will you?” he said and followed Masamune out of the room to find Case.

Gavin simply padded the big man on the shoulder before heading out himself.

Tank looked around the now empty room. “What I say?”
013 - "There Are No White Rabbits On The Moon." by CeJay
013 “ “There Are No White Rabbits On The Moon.”



< I don’t like playing games, Trigger. >

< Hey, you demanded to see me in person. In my line of work I’m sure you can appreciate the need for a few safety precautions. >

Mech stopped in the middle of a narrow corridor, hidden in the basement of a seemingly abandoned building in the outskirts of Luna City. It had taken her two hours to follow Trigger’s cryptic directions to get this far. Now her patience had run out.

< Oh come on, don’t stop now. >
Trigger’s high pitched voice reassured her inside her head. < You’re almost through the rabbit hole. >

Mech sighed and set out again.

Then her enhanced vision noticed the slight shimmer in the air directly in front. This wasn’t right.

She reached behind her back to draw her Glock and pushed herself against the gray wall, slowly moving forward.

< No point being squeamish now. >

She made another step and stopped short when she suddenly found herself standing face to face with a half-naked swimsuit model, clutching with both hands a Starfleet issue phaser which had been top of the line some hundred years ago.

The young woman wore a pair of fluffy bunny ears on top of her lush blonde hair. She had large eyes, a tiny nose and pouty read lips but her real assets were further south and barely covered by the flimsy bikini-suit she wore.

Even while the bimbo was raising the phaser Mech had already placed the muzzle of her firearm squarely in-between her eyes. < I can’t speak for your phaser but I guarantee you the Gavinium laced bullets in this gun will leave their mark on your sex doll’s tiny artificial brain. >

“I told you I have to be careful,” Trigger said.

The skimpily clad woman withdrew her weapon.

“And I told you I don’t like games,” said Mech and secured the Glock. She was fully aware that the woman in front of her had not appeared out of nowhere. She had in fact noticed that her entire surroundings had changed. She was no longer in the cramped corridor but in a large darkened room.

Trigger was a skinny man of Farian descent, a horizontal ridge running across the length of the bridge of his nose distinguishing him from other humanoid species. He sat in a large leather chair at the center of the room surrounded by a circle of computer terminals. His eyes were covered with a black headband and he had a whole array of flashing data ports connected to his neck.

“Holographic projection? A neat little trick.”

Trigger didn’t face Mech when he spoke. “It comes in useful. I’ve made one or two enemies over the years.”

Mech inspected the room but found little of note besides Trigger and his sexbot. The smell however was offensive, as if the ventilation system had not been in use for a few decades.

“Nice of you to let me in.”

“You’ve helped me out a number of times, this is the least I can do,” he said and swiveled in his chair. “Besides I know you’re not here to take me in. You’ve left that life behind, haven’t you?”

She nodded and then looked up where she found a skylight which provided a majestic view into the perpetual darkness of space. Earth shimmered in blue and white in the distance.

“Nice view, eh?”

“Quite. So what do you do to keep yourself busy these days?” she asked. “This isn’t Nyuchiba or Farius Prime. Much more difficult to get away with your line of work.”

“I’m disappointed with the low opinion you seem to have of me. I do a lot of legit work these days. You have no idea how often Starfleet needs some professional consulting work on their computer networks.”

She laughed softly. “Is that why you hide yourself behind a holographic shield?”

Trigger shrugged. It was a motion barely noticeable. “As I said I still have a few enemies. Now please stop torturing me with conjecture and tell me the honor of your visit. It wouldn’t be that you finally decided to take on my offer?”

Mech glanced at the sex droid who had made herself comfortable on a filthy looking sofa, observing the visitor with lusting eyes. “To be honest I don’t think I’m your type,” she said. “I actually have a will of my own.”

“That’s too bad because you would have made a great addition,” he said just before a row of man-high glass booths lit up at the far wall. Each one contained another sparsely dressed female in all colors and races, ranging from a well endowed dark-skinned Vulcan to a green Orion slave girl. The last booth was empty.

Mech glanced at the lifeless bodies with curiosity. “That’s some nice craftsmanship. They look very real,” she said with admiration and then turned back to Trigger. “And very illegal. I wonder what your Starfleet employers would think about this.”

The cubicles were quickly reclaimed by darkness. “How about we concentrate on business,” he said quickly.

“Excellent idea.”

“How can I help you?”

“Gateway 668. Have you ever heard of it?”

He let out a low whistle. “Heard of it? Among some circles it’s considered a legend. The holy grail of hacking. Level ten firewall, at least six active layers, top-notch anti-hacking software and probably the single most vicious protective protocol in all of FedNet.”

“So I take it you haven’t cracked it yet?”

Now Trigger laughed. “I haven’t heard of anyone getting past the third layer and live to tell about it.”

This gave Mech something to think about. When she didn’t speak Trigger actually faced her and slipped one stringy finger under his blindfold and raised it slightly to look at her with his own eye. “You didn’t?”

“I tried but I didn’t get far. Do you know who set it up? What it protects?”

Trigger covered his eye again and leaned back. “No idea. I guess finding that out would be the jackpot. I’m not crazy enough to try but I’ve done a bit of research on it. Didn’t find much.”

“I want you to look at something for me,” Mech said and produced a small fragment of scorched metal.

“Place it there,” he said and pointed at a flat, shiny surface among the many computer stations surrounding him. It lit up in a bright white light.

Mech carefully positioned the fragment on the scanner. The terminal came to live, rapidly changing colors as it tried to analyze the piece of metal.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s part of whatever tried to stop me from finding out more about 668.”

“It looks like I’m not the only one making enemies.”

“What you got?”

A shimmering grid of holographic light appeared at the center or the room just above Trigger. It quickly proceeded to display a heavily magnified version of the fragment and plenty of descriptive text. Then the fragment disappeared to show what it had once been part of.

“A quantum torpedo,” Mech realized.

“Yeah. And not just any. This is Starfleet issue. Latest model too.”

“Can you tell where it came from?”

Trigger shook his head. “Not from the fragment. But maybe I can trace it if you give me the coordinates you found the fragment at and the exact time index.”

“I can do better,” she said and transmitted him the data of when and where the torpedo had struck.

“Alright, let’s see,” said Trigger as he concentrated on his computer uplinks. “There were no starships in geo-synchronous orbit at that time. If we rule out cloaked ships that leaves us with three orbital weapon platforms which would have been in the right position to fire on you.”

“But those are used to defend the planet.”

“True but it wouldn’t be very difficult to adjust their orientation to target something on the surface and besides all three platforms carry the matching type of quantum torpedoes.”

Mech, her curiosity piqued, placed her hands on the computer bank and leaned closer towards Trigger. “Who controls those platforms?”

“Well they’re administered by the UEDA but the torpedoes are provided and maintained by Starfleet,” he said and turned towards Mech. “I like that fragrance, what’re you wearing?”

“Soap.”

“Fancy.”

“Can you hack into the platform’s computers and see if they fired recently?”

“That would be difficult. But I might be able to get access to less vital information, give me a second.”

Mech stepped away again, giving Trigger some room while he dove into FedNet to access the weapon satellite’s computer memory.

“We’ve got a match,” he proclaimed after a few seconds. “According to the manifest platform 7451-A is short one quantum torpedo.”

The holographic matrix above him changed to display a three dimensional rendition of the satellite.

“Any official explanation?”

“It was removed yesterday due to a reported malfunction with the payload.”

Mech’s steely focus remained on the holomatrix. “On whose orders?”

The image shifted to show a file photograph of a high ranking Andorian Starfleet officer. His blue skin and antennae were hardly remarkable. The frown on his face made him appear like the kind of man who hated having his picture taken.

“Captain Whren, Chief of Security, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco.”

Mech quickly glanced at the officer’s record displayed next to the image. Highly decorated veteran, distinguished service during the War, medals, distinctions and all the other earmarks of a career soldier.

Her eyes wandered towards the skylight and focused in on the bright blue planet.

“Why would Starfleet want you dead?”

Mech had no answer to that question. But she was determined to get one.
014 - "Round and Round and Round We Go." by CeJay
014 - “Round and Round and Round We Go.”


Chinatown was one of many parts of the city which hadn’t changed much over the last decades. Since Starfleet had stepped up its activities and beaming had become a less viable means of transport, traffic had increased in the City of the Bay. And in Chinatown especially, where vehicles, both large and small were rivaled by seemingly endless throngs of pedestrians.

A small crowd had gathered at Union Square to protest Federation involvement in the Nyuchiba crisis, giving further proof that even in a society with a sky high satisfaction rate, people would still find something to complain about.

A silver-gray two door hover stood at the corner waiting for a traffic sign to clear.

Gavin was staring out of the window and onto the nearby square.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” observed Tank, sitting in the driver’s seat and flexing his new right arm.

“Huh?” he asked as if woken from a daydream.

“Hey, we’re about to face off with one of the most elusive criminals this city has seen since the Zodiac killer. You better start paying attention.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Gavin said quickly and returned his focus on his partner. “I’ve just been thinking about that woman we met. What was her name? McLaren?”

Tank laughed. “The LT? I don’t blame you, kid, she leaves quite an impression,” he said and shot him a dirty look.

“Now wait a minute. I’m happily married.”

The traffic light changed and the vehicle set in motion on its preset course and without any prompting from Tank. “That’s right. And how long have you been married now? Two weeks?”

“It’ll be three months next Monday. And we have a beautiful little baby girl,” he shot back with mock annoyance. “I was just wondering how you know this LT.”

“She was my CO in the FWA.”

Gavin appeared mystified.

The massive man sighed dramatically. “My commanding officer in the Federation War Alliance.”

“I know what CO means but what’s that war alliance?”

The hover stopped again. A large transport vessel was unloading some of its cargo and blocking half of the narrow street in the progress.

“I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it. The Federation didn’t exactly advertise the program. During the War when it started to look real bleak and troops were becoming a scarce commodity some bright politicians thought it be a real good idea to ask Federation allies and pretty much anyone else who was willing or able to enlist and fight for them.”

“What like mercenaries?”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s what you could call it. In fact because most other governments wanted to stay out of the War the Federation promised to pay them for the troops they would provide. Either with hard currency upfront or with political or economic favors to be redeemed later.”

“Not quite the ideal the Federation strives for, is it?”

Tank frowned at this. “Hey, we did a darn good job. And without us who knows if the Federation would still be here today. Anyway the LT was my boss and I know she doesn’t look it but she was about the toughest solider I’d ever seen.”

The rookie nodded. “After watching her leap across the Himalayas I believe it.”

< All units, this is Slade. Bobbie just had a hit. A public terminal at Broadway and Van Ness. Converge on that position now and use extreme caution. Black is likely to be armed and dangerous. Avoid civilian casualties at all costs. >

“That’s just a few blocks from here,” Gavin realized.

Tank activated the manual control and kicked the hover into overdrive, performing a sharp one hundred eighty. “Armed and dangerous, eh? This ought to be fun.”

Two minutes later the unmarked hover approached the intersection and Tank slowed down.

“You think we catch him distributing stims?” Gavin asked as he scanned his surroundings. His hand had already moved behind his back to unfasten his holster. “I guess that would be icing on the cake, huh?”

“No,” Tank replied. “The icing would be to get him while taking orders from Grayson.”

“One step at a time.”

The intersection was a busy hive of activity. Van Ness Avenue was a wide six lane street designed for the heavy motor traffic of the 20th and 21st century. It was still a major artery, connecting the north shore with the rest of the city. An old mason style church stood at the corner, refusing to blend in with the modern skyscrapers surrounding it.

“There,” Gavin said, pointing at the opposite side of the church and an empty public computer terminal.

Tank considered scanning for life signs. No point. It looked as if a hundred people a minute frequented the intersection. Lunch hour didn’t help.

A few hovers angrily signaled with lights and beeps at the silver vehicle which refused to follow the natural flow of traffic, partly obstructing the intersection.

“Go around, damnit,” Tank shouted at them. One look at the massive driver quickly discouraged any more protests.

“Shall we get out?”

“And go where?”

< We’ve got another hit > Slade’s voice announced. < The Embarcadero, near Pier 19. Tank, Gavin, your closest. Get there now, we’re five minutes out. >

“That’s halfway across town,” Tank realized but nevertheless hit the accelerator hard.

“Take the Broadway tunnel.”

“I don’t need directions, rookie!”

The hover shot down Broadway Street with blaring sirens, swerving aggressively in-between the automated traffic.

They made the two miles through rush hour in record time, Tank barely avoiding a head-on collision with a large public transport vehicle.

The hover lifted off the ground a good five meters as it cleared the tunnel at what the on board computer insistently advised was an unsafe velocity. Tank ignored the warning signals and raced onto The Embarcadero, a long stretch of road running along the wharf.

Gavin held on to the safety rail as if his life depended on it. Traffic accidents were rare but not unheard of. Especially when racing through the city at five times the recommended speed limit.

“Pier nine, fifteen, seventeen,” Tank counted while surprisingly being able to avoid traffic at the same time. “Peer nineteen.” He swerved sharply and right onto the footpath. A few pedestrians had to dive out of the way in order to avoid a trip to the hospital.

Tank hit the brakes and the hover came to a stop right in front of another public terminal. It was being used by an older man who could do nothing but stare wide eyed and in shock at the vehicle which had stopped moving just inches from mowing right over him.

Tank jumped out and Gavin was not far behind.

People all around were looking in their directions, those who were picking themselves up from the ground had a few colorful expressions to share with the rowdy driver.

Tank didn’t pay attention to any of it. He focused on the gray haired man at the terminal instead. “Where is he?”

“Huh? What? … who?” the man was utterly confused. His life had flashed in front of his eyes just seconds before.

“The person who used the terminal before you? Come on, geezer, Where did he go?” Tank shouted. It had never been difficult to be intimidating for Tank, even if he didn’t try. It was not having the desired effect this time though as the old man simply cowered away and refused to speak.

Gavin was surveying the crowd which had gathered around them. A lot of angry pedestrians of all ages and races but nobody who looked remotely familiar to Mister Black.

“I … I just got here,” the man finally managed to stutter.

“Ah, forget it,” Tank said and gave up.

“Alright, there is nothing to see here, people. Move on,” Gavin implored, his training as a Municipal Safety officer taking over.

< Another hit, 386 Pacific. We’ve got him now. >

Tank whipped around his head like a startled dog. “That’s not far. The bastard is moving on foot,” he said and started running, pushing the onlookers aside roughly.

“Hey wait,” Gavin called after him to no avail. He was amazed how fast his huge partner could move, defying physics seemingly at will. There was no way he could keep up.

He jumped back into the driver’s seat of the hover and backed up onto the street but couldn’t quite bring himself to push it as recklessly as Tank had done.

When he was back on the road he had already lost eye sight with him. It didn’t take him long to catch up however. He found him standing in the middle of the small intersection of Pacific and Sansome Street, slowly turning in circles and carefully surveying the surroundings. The public terminal at the corner was not in use.

Gavin parked the vehicle and stepped out. “How does he do that?”

“He’s playing with us,” Tank replied through gritted teeth. He didn’t look like a man who had just covered eight hundred meters in under two minutes. Not a pearl of sweat on that dark, hairless head of his.

“Hey boss,” Gavin said and nodded at a skyscraper just a few blocks down.

Tank turned to look at it. “Son of a bitch.”

Gavin quickly wished he hadn’t pointed out the prominent building. He knew the look in his partner's eyes meant trouble. When he started towards the hover he walked with purpose, pushing Gavin aside to get back into the driver’s seat. The rookie agent quickly jumped back into the vehicle before his partner had a chance to gun the engine again.

“Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

Tank didn’t reply but kept his steely focus on the white, pyramid shaped skyscraper they were approaching.

Gavin already knew what he was up to.

“We still don’t have anything to link them, you know that. The fact that he shows up here could be nothing but a coincidence,” Gavin tried to implore but knew there was little point.

“Coincidence?” he mumbled with obvious skepticism.

< Tank, Gavin, we’re at 386 Pacific, where are you? >

< We’re following another lead. >
Gavin replied carefully.

< What lead? > Slade asked immediately.

Gavin didn’t quite know how to reply. Tank did not appear as if he even wanted to entertain an answer to that question as he brought the hover to a halt in front of one of the oldest skyscrapers in the city and got out.

< Er, we’re at 600 Montgomery. >

< You what? You’re not to proceed. You hear me? Do not proceed! >

Gavin watched Tank storm into the lobby. He got out of the hover and followed. < You better get here quick. > he replied and followed Tank.

The Pyramid housed a large number of offices and organization but one sign stood out to Gavin more than all the others. The Grayson Institute.

“Sir, sign in please,” the Grazerite receptionist said when he noticed the barrel-chested Tank approach. He didn’t even slow. “Sir, you need to sign in,” he called after him.

“It’s alright, we’re with MSD,” explained Gavin and flashed his badge at the confused Grazerite as he struggled to keep up with Gavin.

He caught up with him at the turbo lift bank where he waited for a set of doors to open. When they did he stepped inside without hesitation. Gavin slipped in just before they closed.

“Grayson Institute,” Tank demanded.

The lift set in motion. An obnoxious little piece of elevator music began to play.

It did not help to relax Gavin one bit. “So, Slade told us to sit tight, you got that, right?”

No response.

“You have some sort of plan?”

“Black is here, I know it. Once we have him we take Grayson down with him,” Tank explained without giving Gavin so much as a look. “Case closed.”

For a moment nobody spoke as they stood side by side, the music jingling away.

“Okay. And what if he’s not here?”

The lift stopped and the doors opened. Tank stormed out without providing an answer to his partner’s question.

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” Gavin sighed and followed.

A whole group of pretty female receptionist were waiting for visitors at the lobby of Grayson Institute on the thirty-seventh floor. “How can we be of assistance,” they asked in unison.

This startled Tank and he froze momentarily as he glanced at the five identical red-haired receptionists.

“Are you here to learn more about Gary Grayson and his unique vision of the future of the Federation?” asked number three.

“Would you like to sign up for a five week class?” said number one.

“Or perhaps a two day exploratory course?” That from number five.

Tank shook his head at the absurdity and continued down the main corridor.

Gavin entered the lobby more carefully.

“How can we be of assistance?” the voices inquired again.

Tank found what he was looking for at the end of the large corridor. Two heavy mahogany doors with large golden handles. Tank didn’t knock, it wasn’t his style. He pushed the doors open and stepped into a spacious office. A single man occupied a chair behind a decent sized desk.

Grayson who looked closer to thirty than his actual age of fifty-two quickly stood. He brushed away a few strays of his long silvery hair which did nothing to diminish his boyishly good looks. “Do we have an appointment?” he asked, seemingly completely undisturbed by Tank’s sudden appearance.

Tank looked around the large office but found no one. “Where is he?”

Grayson rounded his desk. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we have been introduced. My name is Gary Grayson, president of Grayson Institute. And you are?”

Tank continued to inspect the office with great scrutiny. “You know exactly who I am.”

Gavin cautiously slipped into the office. One hand resting on his holstered Fletcher 88 Enforcer.

Grayson watched Tank curiously as he inspected the office and then looked at his younger partner. “Of course. You are with Municipal Safety, aren’t you? Is there a problem? I’m always interested in fully cooperating with the authorities.”

Tank whipped around. “Stove it, Grayson. Where is Black? Where are you hiding him?”

A look of befuddlement crossed Grayson’s face. “I’m sorry who?”

“We are looking for a man we wish to bring in for questioning,” Gavin tried to explain with a lot more tact. “He dresses completely in black, wouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“I see,” Grayson replied. “And what makes you think he would be here?”

“Well, we followed him and …” Gavin didn’t quite know how to explain it himself.

Tank had no such problems. “Don’t play stupid, Grayson. We know he works for you.”

Grayson laughed but quickly caught himself when he noticed Tank flexing his massive muscles in annoyance. “Please forgive me, gentlemen. I know of the rumors on the streets of course but I had hoped that the people trusted to protect and serve wouldn’t take those preposterous stories seriously. I promise you, I am not involved with any petty crime activities in this city.”

Tank took a menacing step toward Grayson who to his credit failed to show signs of being intimidated. “Listen Grayson, you save your fairy tales for your deluded students ““

“That’s quite enough!”

Slade had entered the office. He was followed by Martinez and Eldex, also field agents for CCiD.

“You’re done here, Tank,” Jackson Slade fumed angrily.

“I’m not done.”

“Yes, you are,” the two men stared at each other.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m late for a lecture,” Grayson said calmly. “You will have to excuse me now. If you wish to speak to me, please feel free to make an appointment at reception. I’ll have more time to answer your questions that way,” he added and headed for the doors.

“Mister Grayson, I sincerely apologize for this uncalled intrusion. I can assure you that this visit was not sanctioned by MSD,” he said and shot another accusing glance at Tank.

“No need to apologize,” Grayson replied when he had reached the doors. “But I do hope that any future visits could be handled gracefully,” he said and shot a glance towards a fuming Tank. “I’m sure my good friend the mayor would agree.” He looked at Slade once more. “I trust you will find your own way out?”

Slade nodded. “Certainly.”

And with that Gary Grayson was gone.

“Goddamnit, Tank. What the hell?” Slade said, hardly able to constrain his anger.

But the colossal agent wasn’t even paying attention. He was playing with the thought of taking apart the office piece by piece. He ultimately dismissed it. “I know he’s here,” he finally said and headed for the exit without exchanging another glance with Slade.

The team leader focused on the rookie. “And you? I expected more from you.”

“What? Listen I tried to ““

But Slade had heard enough already. “Not here. Let’s get back to headquarters. I’m sure Masamune will not be pleased,” he said and turned on his heels.
015 - "Buddha Says." by CeJay
015 “ “Buddha Says.”


She had come to San Francisco to find Captain Whren, the man who had tried to kill her. She knew she did not have any solid evidence but what she had found out so far was enough for her. Besides, evidence wasn’t something she required. The absence of any need for close scrutiny was just one of the many perks of working freelance.

She had since learned that Whren worked and lived on the Starfleet campus at Horseshoe Bay near Sausalito. He hardly ever seemed to leave the complex and infiltrating Starfleet Headquarters to get to him was not an option she was willing to entertain at this point. It would be difficult for her, not impossible of course but for now she preferred to wait for a more accessible option to present itself.

There was plenty for Mech to think about but for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure herself she found herself in the beautifully maintained Japanese Tea Garden, in the middle of Golden Gate Park, standing in front of a large, sitting Buddha statue.

She carefully scrutinized the figure. The Buddha depicted sat cross-legged, his eyes were closed and he was displayed performing a traditional hand gesture as if he had achieved absolute peace with himself. Mech envied that feeling.

“They call it Nirvana. Attaining perfect clarity through meditation.”

Mech turned to notice a short woman of advanced years who had stepped up behind her. She had been so deep in thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her approach. Mech guessed her to be around eighty but could possibly have passed for twenty to thirty years younger. Her skin was wrinkled but not overly so. Her long white hair was tied in a braid she wore over her shoulder. She had a warm smile on her lips.

“You are a Buddhist?” Mech asked.

“If by that you mean that I have studied Buddhism and am I intrigued by its ways then yes, you could call me that. But I don’t think the monks would agree.”

Mech nodded. “Have you ever experienced it? Is it real?”

“Real? To me that is somewhat of a fluid concept and depends entirely on your interpretation of reality. Is that air you are breathing right now real? How about the food your eating which has been created out of pure energy? How about your thoughts?”

“Well if you put it that way we can’t really know for sure, can we? We might all be just the figments of somebody else’s imagination.”

The old lady started walking down the path and Mech felt compelled to follow her.

“People on all planets have wondered about reality since the beginning of time. At first they attributed everything to the supernatural. Then came religion, then science and technology.”

“You make it sound as if there might be a third option.”

The woman smiled. “Maybe there is.” She looked right into Mech’s green eyes. “In the end what we’re all looking for is truth, don’t you agree? Knowledge about the universe, knowledge about ourselves.”

Mech couldn’t shake the feeling that she had met this woman before. “Do we know each other?”

The old woman continued down the path. “I’m disappointed Mech, I would have thought you would recognize me sooner with that enhanced body of yours and all. I guess there is no substitute for good old fashioned intuition.”

Mech was puzzled as she looked after her. “I don’t usually forget people I meet,” she explained and caught up with her in front of crimson colored Japanese temple. “How do you know me?”

Her old gray eyes sparkled. “We’ve met each other many times, don’t you remember?”

“I haven’t really been very settled over the last few years,” Mech admitted. “Do we know each other from Nyuchiba.”

< What, you never expected me to be this old? >

The voice was instantly familiar and Mech glanced at the smiling woman while her jaw slowly dropped. “Mother?”

She snickered.

“You live here?”

Mother shrugged. “I’m like you, Mech. I wander. For now I have found this place quite suitable to my needs,” she explained and continued her walk through the tea garden. “You however came here to find somebody, didn’t you?”

Mech was quickly at her side again. “Yes. I believe he’s the link to Gateway 668 and those seekers chasing me through FedNet.”

Mother nodded. Now Mech could see the resemblance to her avatar. Not her features of course but her body stature was remarkably similar. She walked very upright, her shoulder straight as a line.

“What you showed me on FedNet, the strange activity concentrated here. Do you think it is connected to the man I am after?”

“Everything is connected.”

Mech froze.

Mother turned to look at her.

“I see you are as cryptic in real life.”

“I’m trying to help you Mech but you are entering dangerous waters. Some connections I haven’t yet figured out myself. I know something is happening here. I know that this man you looking for might have some answers but it will be difficult to get them.”

“I can handle difficult.”

Mother nodded. “I know you can. But you will have to be patient. The truth you seek may be bigger than you think. I fear events have been set in motion which could very well lead to a greater change than we are prepared to accept. We are way passed the stage where this is merely about yourself.”

Mech contemplated that for a moment. Patience was perhaps not her greatest strength. And she might not have admitted it openly but thinking about others beside herself was not either.

Mother could tell what she was thinking. “I’ll be here, Mech. I’ll try to help you as much as I can but this will take you places only you can go,” she said and walked up the stairs of the temple. “But it will be imperative that you go wherever this will lead you. As Buddha says: ‘There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not starting and not going all the way.’”

Mech tilted her head. “Do you have any other ancient wisdoms to spare which could help me on this one?” she said hardly masking her sarcasm.

Mother simply winked and disappeared inside the temple, leaving Mech to wonder how exactly Mother’s insights were going to make it any easier for her to try and figure out who, why and where.
016 - "Just Follow the Treasure Map." by CeJay
016 “ “Just Follow the Treasure Map.”


“I’m sure you appreciate, Mister Masamune, that we don’t always choose our friends. Some are the consequences of our own ambitions, some are made for us and others, well others are simply a matter of necessity,” the stately woman told the chief of San Francisco’s Municipal Safety Department over the large computer screen. “The Grayson’s have been close acquaintances of my family for a very long time. And as you are well aware Mister Grayson himself has always been a great friend of the city on both the local and planetary scale. Now I know about some of his “ how should I put it? Radical ideas. But we still live in a free society even if Mister Grayson may not cherish this fact. So I’m afraid that unless you can provide solid evidence to backup your accusations I have to ask you to reign in your people.”

Masamune wanted to speak but the Lady Major did not give her the chance.

“I do not have the time to discuss this further, Mister Masamune. I asked you to create your special task force because of your reputation to get results and your experience with cyber-crime. These stims flooding our streets are a disgrace for this city and I require you to rid us from this scourge without making unfounded accusations,” she said and brushed some of her dark hair behind her ear. Her voice had a steely edge but she kept it perfectly even without ever becoming threatening or accusatory.

“I understand and I assure you I will deliver the results you expect.”

Her lips curved upwards ever so slightly. “I’m sure you will.”

The link was terminated and the screen faded into a transparent pane along with the other windows. The setting sun outside still provided enough light to illuminate the room, revealing the members of the Cyber Crime Division who had been previously hidden in the darkness.

Masamune turned to the scattered group.

“Well that’s a story if I ever heard one,” said Tank. “She admits that he’s a complete loon but won’t lift one finger to put him away.”

“What she correctly pointed out,” Slade shot back, “is that he has rights like every other citizen of the Federation. We cannot act without any proof. Federation rights are there for a ““

“Federation rights?” Tank asked with bewilderment. “Have you heard this guy’s so-called lectures? He wants nothing more than get rid of the Federation. He doesn’t even care for any of his “”

“That’s not the point.”

“The point is that this guy is singlehandedly ““

“Gentlemen,” Masamune’s surprisingly forceful voice abruptly ended the conversation. When he continued it was in his more characteristically soft tone again. “Mister Eldex, how is our new project coming along?”

Next to Masamune Eldex was the oldest member of the team. A computer and technology expert, the bald, purple skinned Benzite was in charge of implementing and advising on technology. He sat at one of the work stations, seemingly consumed by his work.

“It is in place,” he said simply

“What is?” Gavin asked, trying to peer over Eldex’s shoulder.

“Put it up on the big screen if you please.”

Eldex did just that and within seconds the room had darkened, the main window transformed into a display screen once again.

“Satellite surveillance?” asked Tank after he realized that he was looking at a high-angle view of 600 Montgomery Street on the large computer screen. “We already know that Black can elude the satellite.”

The image gave a decent view of the main entrance of The Pyramid building and the many people coming and going, seemingly completely unaware that they were being watched.

“Satellites depend on medium range sensors to provide us with visual information of the target area and they can be accessed by multiple users, if they are skilled enough to break their firewalls” explained Eldex. “This data is coming from an interceptor, a small device we developed back on Benzar about eighty years ago. It is so small it’s practically invisible to the naked eye. It floats in the air at about forty meters above ground level and can provide visual information on short range distances.”

“Why haven’t we used this before?” asked Gavin.

“Because we’re not supposed to have them,” Masamune replied.

“Pardon?”

“They violate Federation privacy laws as their main purpose is to spy on people without them knowing about it,” explained the Benzite. “We had to discontinue using them after we joined the Federation.”

“The important part is this: Black knows about the satellites and therefore is able to hack into them and prevent us from locating him. He does not know about the interceptors,” Masamune said, seemingly without the slightest moral scruple in regards to violating a Federation directive.

Jackson Slade didn’t look so happy. “If somebody finds out that we’re using these things we’re going to be in all sorts of ““

“There he is” Tank shouted and stepped closer to the screen, pointing at a black-clad man stepping out of the skyscraper. “Goddamnit I knew he was hiding in there.” He turned to look at his team leader with an accusing expression. “Let’s go get him already.”

“Wait,” said Masamune.

Tank couldn’t believe it. “We need to act now,” he insisted. “We cannot afford to let him slip through our fingers again.”

The old man nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t be too hasty. As long as he doesn’t know he’s followed we can establish exactly where he will go. He might even lead us to his base of operations.”

“We can link him to Grayson,” said Tank.

“Because he was in the same building? There are hundreds of offices in there, we have nothing.”

Tank glared at Slade but the latter shrugged it off, keeping his eyes focused on the screen instead.

Black had just gotten onto a jet black hover bike and quickly zipped away.

“No wonder he could move fast using that thing,” observed Gavin.

“Eldex can your interceptor stay with him?” Slade wanted to know.

The Benzite nodded and worked his controls. “We’re fine as long as does not exceed 350 kph and his journey won’t take him longer than five hours.”

“Well let’s see where he takes us then,” said Jackson Slade and watched the screen carefully.

The hover bike was reminiscent of speed bikes of old with powerful combustion engines. However the engine powering this machine was packing a lot more bang and the controls were much more precise, allowing the operator to zip past the slower and mostly automated traffic in the downtown area. Within a few minutes he had reached the New James Lick Skyway, which was suspended some thirty meters above ground and with its twelve lanes of traffic was easily the cities single largest express road.

“He’s heading for the Bay Bridge,” realized Tank. “He going to Oakland.”

True enough just moments after hitting the packed Skyway Black had steered his bike onto the bridge connecting San Francisco to the neighboring city.

Slade turned to Masamune. “We might get into jurisdiction problems if we try to take him down there.”

The chief didn’t seem concerned and continued to watch the screen.

Black was not going to Oakland after all. He shot down an off ramp halfway across the bridge in order to get onto a small island in the San Francisco Bay located directly between the two cities.

“He’s going to Treasure Island,” said Gavin.

The sun had since disappeared from the sky entirely and the city had been claimed by darkness. The bustling town was usually brightly lit during the night but Black had pulled into an abandoned part of the island were illumination was scarce.

The tiny interceptor was undeterred however, following the heat signatures and the bright red taillight of the hover bike. And then it stopped. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, close to nothing which could have been of any interest.

“What’s he doing?” wondered Gavin and stepped closer to the screen. “Can we get a better angle?”

Eldex manipulated the controls and the interceptor moved in tighter. The shape of the rider was becoming more pronounced. He had stepped off his bike and seemed to survey his surroundings.

Then he drew what appeared to be a nasty looking Klingon disruptor pistol. Gavin recognized it instantly.

The young rookie suddenly froze in terror when he realized that the disruptor was pointed right at him. The super high resolution image made it look all too close for comfort.

Black fired and Gavin instinctively tried to get out of the way, backing into Tank standing behind him.

The screen went black.

“Impossible,” Eldex hissed. “He couldn’t have spotted the interceptor with the naked eye.”

“We need to move out now!” Tank insisted and was already heading for the door.

“Hold on.”

Tank froze and looked at the source of the voice. It had not been who he’d expected. Her voice had been so forceful that it had actually compelled him to stop. All eyes diverted to the Bobbie Case, sitting at her own computer station.

Slade looked at her with impatient eyes. “Well Miss Case, the clock’s ticking.”

She looked at the screen which was now displaying a map of the artificial island. She easily manipulated the information using the data port on her neck which was linked to the main computer.

“Treasure Island rang a bell with me so I looked over my findings from before when we tried to pin him down using the hacker’s signature I found on the satellite,” she explained. On the map Black’s last known position near the Bay Bridge was highlighted with a bright green dot. “Running a search for any terminals accessed in the last few days on Treasure Island I came up with one terminal that showed a very similar signature as the one left behind on the satellite.”

The map highlighted another point on the map, near the east shore of the island.

“That’s the old industrial district,” said Gavin.

Masamune allowed himself a small smile at Case’s findings. “Once again, good work,” he said and then looked at the team leader. “Go.”

Tank was already out the door when Slade acknowledged. “This time we’re going to take some backup,” he said. < Hot Rod, prep the SAFVe for immediate lift-off and pack heavy. We’re going to nab us a treasure. >
017 - "Showdown on Treasure Island." by CeJay
017 “ “Showdown on Treasure Island.”


Mech had been lucky, Whren was on the move and she was close behind.

The Starfleet officer was carful, implying that whatever his journey entailed was something he wanted to keep a secret. But he clearly had not counted on a tail with the kind of skills Mech possessed.

She easily stayed undetected as she followed Whren all the way to what appeared to be a fully automated factory which had shut down for the night. It was a Starfleet subcontractor and Whren easily gained access to the building.

Mech decided on finding a different entry. It was after midnight and the city streets were mostly deserted. Nobody noticed the young woman in a dark leather jacket easily jumping on the roof of the multiple story building.

The maintenance access shaft was protected by an internal security system with a double layered, level five firewall. Mech hacked it in under two minutes.

This wasn’t Starfleet Headquarters. During the day the factory produced parts used in industrial replicators, not exactly a high security installation. Mech took no risks. She unfastened her firearm, noiselessly dropped herself into the now open hatch and made her way down the catwalks.

The interior was packed with frozen assembly lines and industrial robots. The larger cranes looked like eerie statures in the darkness. The smell of unprocessed duranium and poly-plastics permeated the stale air. The factory was divided into a number of different sections. The largest, the open plan assembly hall which took up space from the ground floor to the building’s high ceiling, was empty.

Mech found a nervously pacing Andorian in the much smaller administrative section. Hidden in the shadows, she watched the man for a minute. He looked anxious and not in the least bit comfortable about being there. He wore a civilian tunic and was unarmed and Mech was confident enough that she could overwhelm him in hand to hand combat should it be necessary. She holstered her weapon and stepped into the open.

“Whren?”

The Starfleet officer froze and looked into her direction. He was startled but not as much as she had hoped. He was only able to make out her distinctly female silhouette.

“Who is there?”

She stepped into the meager light coming from the street lamps outside. “Captain Whren?” she asked again.

“Who are you?”

Mech froze. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No,” he shot back. He scrutinized the young woman in front of him closely. “Wait.”

Her hand found the grip of the Glock behind her back.

“Damnit, I told that fool that I am not interested in dealing with his henchman anymore,” said Whren, barely able to contain his rising anger. “If he expects my help in this crazy plan of his he could at least have the decency to do as I asked and show himself in person. You tell him that.”

Mech relaxed slightly and stepped closer. She carefully took in the room as she approached. A lot of shadows but no obvious signs that this was a trap. She could be wrong however. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

“You can talk to me,” she said with faked confidence.

“Do you have any idea what I’m risking by just to coming here? No, of course you don’t. There is much more at stake here than your silly games and I don’t have the time for it,” he said and made for the exit. “You know how to contact me. I suggest you do so when you get serious.”

Mech reached out for Whren’s arm when he passed her by. He flinched at the surprising strength in her grip.

“I need information.”

“You already have everything you need to keep to your side of the bargain. I’ve done what you asked and now it’s time you produced some results,” he said and freed himself from Mech.

It was nothing more than a flicker in the shadows. Whren didn’t even notice it. Mech did but by the time she knew what it was, it was already too late.

It hit her like a freight train and she went flying through the air with such force that her body crashed right through a solid partition and landed somewhere among the machinery in the adjacent assembly hall.

“By Andor!” Whren shouted in surprise and stepped back towards the windows.

The man who had appeared and had so easily disposed of the woman wore opaque shades even though the room was filled with darkness. He had run right into her, coming from seemingly nowhere. He didn’t appear to have a bruise on his body.

“What the eight hells is going on here?”

The man reached into his black coat to reveal a Klingon disruptor pistol.

“Now hold on a minute.” A flash of panic crossed Whren’s face. It passed when he realized that the weapon was not going to be used on him. “I know you,” he realized. “But if you are my contact then who the hells was she?”

Black didn’t speak. He turned his head and pointed the disruptor into the direction Mech had landed. Once his arm was fully outstretched the disruptor fired a bolt and deadly green energy, zeroed in with meticulous precision on Mech’s prone body.


*
*
*


Jackson Slade had the factory in his sight. He and his team where just one block away and from his position he was sure he could see movements through the windows.

“It looks like our man is inside,” he said.

Tank finished checking his phaser rifle. Like the other five CCiD team members he was dressed in black combat fatigues. “What are we waiting for then?”

< Sly, are you in position? >

< We have reached the back entrance. No sign of the target. We are attempting to hack into the security system now, >
reported Sly Martinez.

“I wish we could just use sensors like in the good old days,” Gavin remarked with a smirk.

“A curse on whoever invented scramblers,” said Tank and moved up to Slade. “So what’s the plan?”

The team leader shot another look at the building and then turned to his team. “The plan hasn’t changed. We’re operating under the assumption that our target is inside the building. We have all exits covered. Once Sly has gained access to the security system we breach with two units. Clear?”

All team members acknowledged.

< Slade, we have a problem. > This was coming from Hot Rod who was keeping out an eye from the SAFVe above them.

< What is it? > Slade asked and looked up. His question was answered instantly.

< We’ve got company. >

Two Starfleet shuttles were approaching quickly. They made little effort of staying undetected and sat down directly in front of the factory.

“What the hell are these idiots thinking?” Tank said, gritting his teeth.

Jackson Slade left his cover to run towards the shuttles, stealth no longer any concern. Whatever momentum of surprise they might have had was now gone.

Two dozen Starfleet officers disembarked from their vessels. The commanding officer noticed the approaching commandos and greeted them with a large smile, as if he had been expecting to see them.

“Lieutenant Commander Charis Lee, Starfleet Security,” the young dark haired officer of Asian descent said so casually one could have thought he had come for a party.

“Jackson Slade, MSD.”

Tank was not nearly as diplomatic. He built himself up to his full six feet and seven inches, causing the much shorter Lee to cringe somewhat. “What are you morons doing? We’re in the middle of an operation here.”

Lee apparently decided to ignore the huge man in favor of Slade who he presented with a data padd. “I apologize for the intrusion but we tracked a wanted criminal to this location and we are here to serve an arrest warrant.”

Slade looked startled by the news but he took the padd nevertheless. He glanced over it only to find confirmation of the officer’s words. He turned away. < Sir, we have a situation here. >

Masamune answered straight away. < I know. I just got the call from Starfleet. They claim our suspect has outstanding warrants in the Klingon Empire, with the Romulans and half a dozen other worlds. Unfortunately, legally speaking, this gives them jurisdiction in this case. >

< This is bull, > Tank said who had been listening in. He kept his ground in front of the Starfleet officer even while he was communicating with the others. < How come this is the first time we’ve heard about this? And why do they show up the second we try to make our own move? >

< I have to agree with Tank > Slade admitted. < This is an awfully convenient coincidence. >

The Starfleet officer cleared his throat. “Mister Slade, Starfleet is always concerned to maintain a good relationship with local law enforcement. We would be more than happy to join forces in making this arrest.”

“Join forces?” asked Tank with disbelief. “We were here first. This is our bust, little man.”

Lee did not like the nick name. “I’m trying to extend you some courtesy here,” he shot back angrily. “Something I’m not in the least required to do.”

Slade put a hand on Tank’s massive shoulder before he could retort. “Very well. We will do this together.”

Tank moaned loudly and moved away in disgust.

Gavin in the meantime had found something else that had begun to concern him. He had been watching the Starfleet unit. All of them were wearing their standard black and gold uniforms and carried no heavy arms to speak of. Instead of getting ready to storm the factory, most of them were spreading out in order to keep away the few onlookers their appearance had caused.

< These guys are not ready to go into this building > he broadcasted to the other team members. < If we wait for them we might lose our chance to get our man. >

Tank noticed what Gavin was referring to. < The bastards are stalling for time. >

< Slade, get in there now. We sort out jurisdiction later. > Masamune said.

Jackson Slade nodded. < Sly, how’s it coming? >

< We’re ready to roll over here. >

< Sit tight. We’ll be with you momentarily >
Slade turned to Lee who seemed to be instructing a few of his men. “Commander, we need to move now if we want any chance to get this guy. We take the rear entrance you can have the front,” Slade didn’t wait for the reply but indicated his team to move out.

Lee didn’t seem happy with that plan. “Wait, we need to agree on a strategy first,” he called after them. To no avail. The CCiD team had already moved out of sight.


*
*
*


Mech’s landing was harsh and painful but she knew that she couldn’t afford to stay put and tend to her bruises. She wanted to reach for her weapon but it had been flung out of its holster by the impact. There wasn’t time to look for it. Seemingly against the laws of gravity she commanded her body to pick itself off the ground and dive for cover.

Not a second too soon.

A green energy blast disintegrated part of the floor she had occupied just a moment earlier.

Impossibly the man who had fired on her towered above her now. Without any hesitation his thick boot connected with her head, flipping Mech onto her back.

The blow had been devastatingly powerful but she had felt worse. Determined not to let her mysterious attacker strike again, she sprawled out her legs and cut the black-clad man down.

With almost no effort whatsoever Mech managed to jump back onto her feet. She was surprised that her opponent had recovered as quickly as she had.

For a moment they simply stared at each other. She understood immediately that there was much more to this man than first met the eye. But there was no time for deeper thinking on the subject.

The man with the dark sunglasses struck out with such fluid motions and efficient technique, he made it look as if he had been born for martial art combat.

Mech parried the attacks by using her arms and legs like weapons, counting every block and every kick.

Together they moved back and forth more like dancers than combatants using the full space of the large assembly hall, flying from one conveyer belt to the other and using the various machines and robots for cover and as obstacles.

It was a stalemate. Every move she made he matched. Every move he made she matched. Mech had rarely faced an enemy with skills so close or possibly even equal her own.

He easily leaped with her when she tried to get away and find a new opening to strike and she afforded him the same courtesy. He never spoke or for that manner made any sounds whatsoever. No grunts or moans not even when her fist struck a powerful blow against his ribcage which she was sure would have caused severe damage to most men.

Mech had enough. She needed to end this now or risk being tired out by her unwavering opponent.

There was one weakness she had quickly identified. He had her strength and her speed but his technique was unimaginative and mostly limited to mirroring her own moves.

With a powerful shoulder tackle she flattened him onto the conveyer belt and quickly rolled off of him. This of course merely bought her a few seconds of time as he quickly recovered.

It was all she needed. She found the control panel and activated the belt which proceeded to start with a jerk which caused the black-clad man to lose his balance. The main power was offline but Mech had counted on enough residual energy to keep the thing running a bit. The gamble paid off and the conveyor quickly moved him away from her. It was all the separation she had wanted.

With a few large large steps she ran towards a nearby tower crane, jumped up five meters and rotated in mid air. She pushed herself off the tower with her right leg to come flying towards her opponent with a dangerously outstretched left leg.

The man had only just regained his footing and was in no position to avoid the incoming Mech who shot through the air like a cannonball.

Her foot found its target, the black-clad man’s neck. Ordinarily such a forceful attack could have killed a man instantly. Her opponent spun around from the impact and then fell forward, and off the conveyor belt and face first into a nearby computer console. Sparks went flying everywhere.

Mech landed gracefully on her feet again. She couldn’t quite tell if the man was dead or merely stunned. She spotted her Glock on the floor and decided to be safe. Picking it up in one swift motion she aimed it at her adversary.

A bright light shone onto the factory floor from outside.

“It’s Starfleet,” she heard Whren shout. “They’re going to enter the building,” he added and appeared at a railing above them. The Andorian froze when he noticed that Mech had won the upper hand. He stared at her with empty eyes.

Mech turned her weapon on him but hesitated.

This gave the blue-skinned man enough time to tap a communicator hidden under his civilian shirt. He dematerialized within a heartbeat.

Never one to cry over spoiled milk she swirled back around and was mildly surprised to find that the man she had fought had recovered and was on the move again. Part of his wrap-around sunglasses had been smashed and Mech noticed the gray and bulky artificial eyes sitting in his eye sockets.

He jumped onto a catwalk some ten meters above him, then jumped again to hold on to a freestanding conduit only to swing himself to yet another catwalk across the hall.

Three shots rang out from her Glock none of which connected with the man leaping across the hall at inhuman speeds before he dashed out of view.

*
*
*

“What the hell was that?” Slade wanted to know and raised his pulse rifle higher.

“Starfleet?” said Gavin.

But Tank shook his head.

“It came from that direction,” said Martinez and pointed towards a narrow corridor leading deeper into the factory.

“I don’t like the looks of it. According to the blueprints this corridor leads to the main assembly room. Sly, you Parker and Mintrex take position in here. Tank, you and Slim take the south, Gavin and I take the north. All paths should lead us into the central assembly point.”

The team members nodded in acknowledgement.

“Remember that we need our suspect alive. No crazy stunts,” said Slade and shot an accusing look towards Tank.

“You better pray these toy guns can stop this guy,” Tank said. In his massive hands the pulse rifle really did look like it had been made for a child.

The team split up as ordered.

Jackson Slade and Gavin found most of the north part of the building to be large storage rooms, tightly crammed with completed components ready for shipment.

The dark rooms contained too many shadows for Gavin’s liking. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t get the lights turned on. It would make this a whole lot easier.”

Slade walked slowly by the rookie’s side, trying to uncover as much of the surrounding darkness as possibly with the flashlight mounted on his rifle. “Getting the city’s energy net to turn on the power is like negotiating a peace treaty with Tzenkethi. We simply don’t have that time.”

“Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with advanced technology. There used to be a time you could simply flick a switch and …“

A rattling noise just behind the corner made both men freeze.

< We got a possible contact. > Slade announced.

He indicated Gavin to take the long way around while he would proceed forward.

The young operative nodded and slipped into a gap between the stapled components.

Slade carefully approached the corner, flattened his back against the wall and peaked around. He found nothing in the darkness. He quietly counted to five and then pushed off and into the open. The light on his weapon unveiled nothing out of the ordinary. < All clear. Gavin? >

No response.

< Gavin, what’s your status? >

Again nothing.

“Damn,” he mumbled and began to carefully step forward, trying to find a way to rejoin with Gavin. But there wasn’t one. In fact he had stepped right into a dead end. He whipped around. < Hot Rod, do you have a fix on Gavin’s location? >

< Negative, I’m picking up interference from his locater. >

< What the hell, Slade? >
said Tank. < Where’s the rookie? >

The team leader ignored the question and approached the gap into which Gavin had disappeared into. < Everyone convene on my location now. > he said and then stepped through the gap, rifle at the ready.

It was narrow at first but it quickly widened to allow access into another storage room. A light source caught his attention just around the corner. As before he quietly approached it to see what waited around the bend.

The light came from a pulse rifle lying on the ground. Just a few meters beyond Black was working on bypassing the security system on a window leading out of the building. He held the rookie agent in the air next to him by the neck using only his left hand. Apparently he applied just enough pressure to keep Gavin from communicating but not enough to prevent him from breathing.

Slade acted quickly. He deactivated the torch on his rifle and activated the laser aim instead. Noiselessly he brought up his weapon to his eye to line up the shot.

The hair thin red laser beam connected with the man’s arm, marking the target.

Slade squeezed the trigger.

The bluish blast was dead on, impacting just a few inches from Black’s elbow. The arm was pushed back and the hand let go of Gavin who dropped painfully to the cold floor.

But the black-clad man moved faster than Slade. In fact he moved faster than anyone Slade had ever seen. Before he could fire again, the man had reached out for Gavin with his other arm, bringing the pit of his elbow around the rookie’s neck and pulling him up to shield himself.

“Let him go now!” Slade shouted and took two determined steps forward.

He stopped when he noticed the unnatural eyes looking back at him, devoid of any human expression. Gavin was fighting for air now. This man had no intention of letting him go. On the contrary.

Heavy footsteps behind him told Slade that reinforcements were nearby but they would come too late to save Gavin’s life.

Jackson Slade was out of options.

An explosion ripped through the air, catching Slade by complete surprise. It was followed by another one and then one more.

Black’s head jerked backwards as it was being hit multiple times by a powerful, unseen force. Parts of his face were ripped away on impact.

Slade was paralyzed as he witnessed three gaping holes being blown into the man’s head. The room was dark and he was not close enough to spot all the details but he was reasonably sure that there was neither blood nor bone emerging from the blown up head.

Gavin sacked to the ground and moments later so did Black.

A female figure stepped into the open, holding a pistol shaped weapon.

Slade aimed his rifle at her. “Drop your weapon!”

The woman threw him a curious look.

“LT!” Tank shouted as he stormed onto the scene. “What are you doing here?” he sounded surprised but also delighted by seeing his former commanding officer.

“You know her?” asked Slade unable to keep the astonishment out of his own voice.

Tank nodded as he rushed to the dazed Gavin on the floor.

Mech secured her weapon.

Moments later the room was swarming with the remaining MSD agents. Tank had found with convincingly well hidden relief that Gavin was shaken up but otherwise unharmed. He helped him back onto his shaky feet.

“Thanks,” the young agent managed to say to the woman who had just saved his life.

She gave him a short nod but seemed much more interested in the remains of the person whose head she had turned into mush.

Mech knelt down next to the lifeless body and unceremoniously ripped away what was left of his face.

“I’ll be damned. That thing is a full body android,” Tank said when he noticed the artificial skull hiding behind the human looking skin.

“I want to know who you are and what you’re doing here,” said Slade and stepped next to Mech. “This is an official investigation you are interfering with.”

“Cool you head, will ya? She’s on our side. Besides if not for her Gavin would’ve been a goner for sure,” said Tank and shot his team leader an accusing glance, making it clear that he was rather unimpressed with him. He turned to the still preoccupied Mech. "Not that we’re not grateful for the help but what exactly brings you here? Don’t tell me the old man finally manage to convince you to come work with us?”

“Work with us?” Slade seemed lost but nobody seemed willing to explain.

Mech shook her head, still studying the android. The duranium bullets of her 9mm had drilled deep holes into the metallic skull which was now coated with a slimy white liquid dripping off her fingers and onto the floor. “I’m sorry to disappoint but I’m here following my own leads.”

“We’ll be taking it from here.”

The CCiD agents turned around to find Commander Charis Lee and a dozen Starfleet security guards having entered the room.

Mech used the momentary distraction to quickly slip her nimble hand into the android’s mouth. She retrieved a small device and slipped it into her jacket before standing up and facing the Starfleet detail with the others.

“It is unfortunate that you had to kill him but that can’t be helped, I guess. We’ll be taking care of the body. Please accept Starfleet’s gratitude in assisting us stopping a dangerous, intergalactic criminal,” said Lee and moved through the ranks of the CCiD agents.

“Now wait a minute,” Tank protested. “You can’t just come in here after letting us do all the heavy lifting and then just sweep away our trophy as if you had taken any part in the hunt.”

Lee gave the huge bald-headed man a friendly grin. “Your trophy as you quite aptly describe it will serve as a tremendous testimony to our allies that we are quite capable and willing to go after criminals seeking refuge in the Federation. I’m sure the Diplomatic Corps will be extremely grateful to your efforts.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Diplomatic Corps, you little ““

Slade once again managed to cut off the enraged colossus. “With all due respect, Commander, you are within our jurisdiction here. Any criminal will have to be processed by Municipal Safety first.”

Lee was all too happy to deal with Slade again. He quickly shoved another padd into his hands. “I understand your concerns. As you can see by these directives, signed by the office of the Secretary-General we are within our rights to assume custody of this body at this time,” Lee said and quickly gestured for his men forward to attend to the remains.

Tank looked at his team leader. “You can’t just let them do this.”

But Slade was still looking through the lengthy document while the Starfleet officers had tagged the body. Not a second later it dissolved in shimmering blue lights, transported to a destination unknown.

Tank growled in anger.

“Gentlemen,” said Lee with a satisfied smile on his face. “It was a pleasure working with you.” And just like that he and his Starfleet men disappeared again, leaving the room as quickly as they had appeared.

Slade shook his head with confusion, still looking at the padd he had been given. “This can’t be right. This authorization is way out of date.”

That did it for Tank. His massive fist drove into a wall, leaving behind a large dent and scrapping off the skin on his hand. He showed no signs of pain, instead his face was mirroring nothing but pure frustration.

< Slade, bring the team back now, > said Masamune over an open channel. The old man did not sound happy.

The team leader looked pale. < Understood, > he replied and began to issue orders to his men.

“This is going to be one after-action briefing I’d rather sit out,” added Gavin, his voice still raspy from his near strangulation experience.

Mech on the other hand had a playful smile on her lips as if she found this entire situation rather entertaining. Gavin didn’t have the slightest idea what could have put her in such a good mood.
018 - "The Offer Stands." by CeJay
Author's Notes:
PART TWO
018 “ “The Offer Stands.”


Mech watched the sun rise over the city from the thirty-eighth floor of the Civic Center Tower, an imposing glass structure build on top of the old Museum of Asian Culture which still contained the largest collection of ancient Asian art in Federation space.

“Let me make sure I get this straight. You are saying that a high-ranking Starfleet officer wants you dead and already almost succeeded in killing you by utilizing a UEDA orbital weapon's platform. The very same man being in leagues with a stims dealing criminal we only recently found out to be an android with links to Michael Gary Grayson.”

Mech had crossed her arms in front of her chest as her gaze had wandered towards the civic center square below. The iconic domed city hall building across the street was still dark but would be bustling with activity soon enough.

“Yes.”

Masamune leaned back in his heavy swivel chair, his hawk like eyes watching Mech’s back intently. “And I suppose you have no evidence to support any of this.”

“No.”

Masamune nodded. “We have gathered some circumstantial evidence to suggest links between the android we have nicknamed Mister Black and Grayson since we have begun to investigate this case a few months ago. I find it difficult to believe however Starfleet could be involved. I’m admittedly not their greatest admirer but to suggest they might be tied up in a criminal enterprise right here in this city is a difficult implication to digest.”

“May that as it be,” Mech said and turned to face the old man, “I know that they want me out of the picture.”

“But why? Up until now you haven’t even been involved in this case.”

“Let’s just say I might have snooped around in places somebody does not want me to look.”

A small smile crossed Masamune’s features. “You do have a talent for that. But what exactly have you been looking into and how does it relate to my case?”

The young woman avoided eye contact.

“Come on now, don’t play coy with me. Clearly we’ve stumbled upon something here which is bigger than we both imagined. Let us pool our resources and get to the bottom of this together.”

Now Mech cracked her lips for a slight grin. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“It makes sense. The way I see it I need you and you ““

“I can do this on my own,” she interrupted. “I don’t need your help.”

The chief of MSD leaned back in his high-back chair again and studied her carefully. “If we were to deal with another run-of-the-mill cyber-gangster back on Nyuchiba then yes, no doubt you could handle it with ease. But this is different and I know you’ve realized this. Go ahead, try and do this by yourself. Face Grayson, a man with seemingly limitless resources, take on all of Starfleet and the Federation government. And then what’s next? You’ll conquer the Klingon Empire single handedly?”

At this Mech laughed. She didn’t much and it was a very subtle sound, almost forced.

“I’m not saying that by joining me you’ll have a free hand to deal with Grayson and Starfleet as you like. But as far as this city is concerned we have far reaching powers. We can investigate who we want and what we want.”

“This is bigger than this city.”

Masamune nodded in agreement. “I know. But let’s take things one step at a time. For right now everything seems to come together here. Let’s concentrate on that first.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Everything she had found out so far was pointing decisively to the City at the Bay. This was the focus point of whatever events had been set in motion.

“Fine,” Mech said after a few seconds of consideration. “As long as you understand that this is a temporary alliance. And I don’t want to have to worry about power struggles or be slowed down by bothersome regulations.”

Masamune stood. “You’ll be team leader with a wide range of pre-emptive authority. However you’ll have to be flexible too. Every playground has rules, some of which we’ll be able to bend but not all. Play fair and I promise I will try to do whatever I can to keep the heat off your back.”

Mech grinned. “We’ve got a deal,” she said and shook Masamune’s hand.

“Where are you going to start?”

Mech considered that question for a moment. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the fact that Whren didn’t recognize me even though he tried to have me killed. I spoke to him only very shortly before Black intervened but he mentioned a large scale operation and something tells me it’s going to happen right here. We need to get our hands on him again.”

Masamune shook his head. “That’d be difficult. We don’t have jurisdiction at Starfleet Headquarters and if Whren is as guilty as you make him sound, he’s going to make damn sure he’s not going to leave Starfleet premises. Short of infiltrating their compound we can pretty much forget of getting close to the man.”

Mech’s eyes sparkled.

“You can’t be serious. That’s even out of your league.”


“Don’t worry,” she said. “There might be another way.”

The doors to the office opened to allow the CCiD team members to enter. Most of them looked tired. Their heads hung low due to the less than successful mission the night before. The dampened mood was palpable.

“Excellent,” said Masamune. “Time for introductions.”

Tank‘s spirits rose almost instantly “He finally got you convinced, didn’t he? About time you came aboard. It’ll be just like old times.”

“I hope not,” Mech replied with an eye wink.

“You’ve already met Gavin Thorgood,” said Masamune.

“Welcome to CCiD,” the young agent said.

Mech gave him a nod.

“The rest of the team, please meet Miss McLaren.”

“Mech will be fine,” she was quick to point out.

“Sly Martinez, our weapons and equipment expert; the newest member of the team, Bobbie Case, cybernetics specialist; Eldex from Benzar knows about everything you would ever need to know about computer systems; Hailey Rodgers pilots our SAFVe and of course you’ve run into Jackson Slade.”

Each team member gave Mech a friendly smile. The only two exceptions, Bobbie Case who seemed to be bursting with exhilaration and Slade who completely ignored the new member and instead kept his gaze focus on the man in charge.

“And in what capacity exactly is Miss McLaren joining us?” he asked.

Masamune locked eyes with the dark haired man. “She’ll be taking over as team leader. Temporarily.”

Slade took a step forward. “I know that I messed up yesterday, letting that Starfleet officer fool me in giving up that body ““

“You practically gave it to them on a silver platter,” said Tank.

Slade ignored the snide comment. “But this treatment is uncalled for. You can’t just replace me like this.”

“Perhaps this discussion is better suited for a more private ““

Slade shook his head, interrupting the chief. “There is no need to pamper me, sir. If you want me out you can just say so.”

Masamune showed no signs of irritation. “Very well. The truth is I was not pleased at all at the way you handled the situation yesterday. But it is not the reason why I have asked Mech to take command. As you might all be aware by now we are facing bigger challenges than a local ring of stims dealers. Mech here brings a number of unique skills to the table which will become extremely useful to us. I had tried to recruit her before and she has now agreed to my request.”

Slade sill looked skeptical.

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance,” Masamune continued. “She has plenty of experience and we worked together previously in a very similar situation. And Slade, I asked you to join this team for a reason. Your background as a Starfleet officer and Marine make you invaluable to us, especially now. So I do understand if you wish to leave but I’d rather you stayed and helped us getting to the bottom of this.”

The room fell quiet as the first rays of the rising sun hit the windows. Most eyes were focused on Jackson Slade.

He sat down on the couch along the wall. “You’ll still need discipline on this team and the way I see it I’m the best person for that job, no matter who's running the show.”

Masamune nodded.

Tank shrugged his shoulders with indifference.

“But what about our case?” said Gavin. “We lost our best lead with Black. We’re back to square one.”

“Not necessarily,” Mech replied and removed a tiny green chip from a pocket in her dark leather jacket. She placed it on the Masamune’s desk.

“What’s that?” asked the rookie.

Bobbie Case had quickly moved forward to inspect the chip. It contained a green liquid and appeared to be dented in a few places. “It’s a bio-neural memory chip like the ones used in the latest android models.”

“It’s from Black, isn’t it?” Tank said. “It’s his memory core. You lifted it just before Starfleet beamed away the body, you crafty little thing.”

Mech smiled. “Analyzing it should give us some more insights into the android’s movements.”

“It has been damaged,” said Bobbie Case after inspecting it closer. When she looked up again there was nothing but unbridled optimism sparkling in her large eyes. “But I’m sure we’re going to be able to squeeze some information out of it.” She turned to look at Eldex.

The Benzite nodded. “We should get on that right away.”

“Excellent,” said Masamune. “We’re also due to get some new equipment and I want everybody to familiarize themselves as soon as possible. We’ve got plenty of work to do, people.”

With that the team members began to file out of the room. Mech hung behind a little bit, as if to avoid to be swept up by the others. Before she was able to slip out of the room however, Masamune called for her and she turned around to look at her mentor.

“I don’t want this to be like Nyuchiba. You have a team and I except you to work with it. I do not appreciate those solo heroics of yours.”

She gave him a sly grin. “I’ve never been much of a people person, you know that,” she said before leaving the room.
019 - "It's Business As Usual" by CeJay
019 “ “It’s Politics As Usual.”


“We greatly appreciate your continued support of our agenda. We are hopeful that by the end of the year we’ll be able to pass resolute legislation to ban cybernetic augmentation in all cases not involving the replacement of lost or damaged body parts or the rectification of birth defects.”

The dark skinned man sitting across from the bearded Efrosian didn’t reply.

“Support of our polices is growing amongst the general public, especially on worlds with prevalent religious societies such as Bajor, Saltok IV and Epsilon Canaris. I don’t think we have the votes in the Council yet but give me some time and I’m optimistic that we’ll be able to increase support.”

Kentii’la was overlooking Paris while the leader of the Federation Council spoke. This wasn’t unusual by any means. Besides having the reputation of being a cunning politician and brilliant compromiser, Kentii’la was also well known as a man who was able to follow seemingly dozens of different trains of thoughts simultaneously.

“We have been able to keep Starfleet mostly free of any cyberoids and the response to our efforts has been positive.”

“Not from everyone,” he said it in his very slow, deliberate speech pattern.

Veltum Jarni looked up from his padd, startled by the response. “Some opposition is to be expected, Mister President.”

Kentii’la turned to face the speaker. He nodded slowly. “I am not entirely comfortable with the course we have taken regarding this matter.”

Jarni looked confused, almost panicked at this revelation.

A raised hand from the president helped to calm him somewhat. “Don’t get me wrong. I agree that cybernization, if not checked, has the potential to run amuck and change the very basics of our society. But throughout history, attempts to ban new technologies and new ways of thinking have always been unsuccessful. And it shouldn’t be the role of government to determine the course of society.”

The speaker carefully placed the padd onto the desk. “I would agree with you, Mister President, if we were talking about a natural occurring process. But this is not. This is not simply changing our society, it is changing ourselves by artificial means. The first step is cyberization. Replacing your limbs with artificial ones because the implants are stronger and more reliable. Then comes enhancing your brain so that we can link together and become a society of drones not unlike the Borg. And then what, I ask? After we lost all individuality what is not to say that we will become just like the Borg? What is not to say that this is exactly how they started out? Do Can we risk becoming just like them, roaming through the galaxy like merciless predators, ever expanding and destroying that which we deem inferior?”

President Kentii’la glanced back towards the Paris skyline, still being dominated for hundreds of years by the unique design of the Eiffel Tower, one of Earth’s greatest testaments to the fusion of technology and individualism. “It is difficult to argue with a point based on hypotheses.”

“I tell you what is not an hypothesis but solid fact. I have learned from reliable sources that Starfleet has been looking into the option of utilizing full body androids for military operations.”

If Kentii’la attempted to appear surprised he failed. Something in eyes revealed that he was fully aware of those rumors. “Starfleet already has androids.”

“Yes, one. And it “ he “ serves as an officer on a starship and is fully self-conscious. A court has ruled that he is in fact a sentient being. We have created a sentient being. Starfleet wants thousands just like him. Creating life from nothing and making it appear just like us. There will be no way to distinguish them from us.”

The president sighed. “This administration will continue to support any legislation limiting cybernization. Shall we move on to the next issue?”

“Certainly,” Jarni said and reached for his padd again. “Cardassian reconstruction.”

The president nodded. “A matter I am very dedicated to as you are aware.”

“Of course. And so am I. The Council has voted to increase resources being used for the reconstruction effort by fifteen percent. However we are now quickly reaching a point where we are unable to produce enough resources to meet the rising demand. What I would suggest ““

The doors to the presidential office opened and Trelu-Chi Sill entered in a hurry. He seemed upset. “Mister President, Mister Speaker I apologize for this intrusion but we have a situation unfolding I believe you should be made aware of immediately.”

The president showed no signs of irritation and simply nodded towards his adviser.

Sill on the other hand froze for a moment, shooting a quick glance at the president’s visitor.

“It is quite alright, Mister Sill, we do not keep secrets from the Council.”

Sill nodded and proceeded to the wall screen. “I have Admiral Tessier for you on the emergency channel.”

Both the president and the leader of the Council perked up. This could only mean bad news.

The face of the auburn-haired Starfleet officer appeared on the screen. Her bloodshot eyes and barely wrinkled skin, making her look slightly closer to her actual age than usual. “Mister President,” she began right away. I regret to inform you that the USS Tripoli has been destroyed.

“How?”

“We do not have all the information yet, but according to Nyuchiban security forces our ship was attacked by Asukan rebels, claiming sovereignty over the entire system. Initial estimates point to a complete loss with less than fifty survivors.”

The President was visibly shaken. “Of how many?”

“The Tripoli had a crew of seven hundred and eighty, sir.”

When nobody refused to break the silence that had ensued, Tessier continued. “We have assembled a task force just outside Nyuchiban territory which could arrive at Asuka III within a day.”

“A task force?” asked Sill. “How did you mange to assemble ships this quickly, Admiral?” Sill smiled but his voice was not without a hint of accusation.

Tessier noticed this. “As you may be aware, Mister Sill, the Nyuchiban Confederacy borders a number of territories hostile to the Federation which have actively supported piracy and border incursions into our territory. For the last few decades Nyuchiba has served as an essential buffer to our vulnerable colonies close to the border. But since the Asuka conflict their forces have not been able to protect their own borders and piracy has been on the upswing.”

The president did not miss the venom Tessier directed towards his advisor. “Admiral, nobody is disputing your intentions on protecting our borders. But I do not wish to make a hasty decisions at this time.”

“I understand, Mister President. But please allow me to move the task force to Asuka in order to investigate the destruction of the Tripoli and rescue the survivors.”

“If I may, Mister President,” said Jarni who had listen carefully to everything that had been said.

Kentii’la nodded for him to proceed.

“Admiral, what ships are part of this task force?”

The admiral shot the speaker a surprised look, revealing for just a moment that she had not anticipated this question. She glanced off the screen for a second. “The Sutherland is the lead vessel. Then there is Eagle, Independence and ““

“I’m sorry, Admiral, I didn’t make myself clear,” Jarni interrupted. “What I meant to ask was, what kind of ships are part of this task force? Do you have for example any battleships, hospital ships, transports and so forth?”

Tessier didn’t appear to like the direction this line of questioning was taking. “Sir, with respect, Starfleet does not have battleships.”

Jarni smiled. “My apologies, Admiral. I am not overly familiar with starship terminology.”

“The task force is comprised of two heavy cruisers, three frigates, two escorts and four transport vessels,” the admiral explained with forced patience.

“That appears to be a very large number of transport ships to rescue fifty survivors,” Jarni said.

The admiral didn’t respond right away. The cunning politician had maneuvered her into a position she had tried to avoid. She considered her answer carefully. “The transports have other functions.”

“Would you mind elaborating, Admiral?” asked Sill. His smile was widening almost as if he took comfort in the knowledge that the admiral had been found out.

“They carry Marines,” she said. But then quickly added. “A standard procedure in this kind of situation. After all a large number of the survivors might have fallen prisoner to the enemy. We require sufficient troops to carry out effective rescue operations.”

The president had heard enough. “Admiral, you may dispatch one of your cruisers to Asuka III. Keep the Marines on station and the rest of the task force to secure the border.”

Tessier was not pleased at this concession but did her best to hide it. She wasn’t all too successful. “Understood. Thank you, Mister President. Tessier out.”

Her image vanished from the screen.

“Mister Speaker, I’m certain you understand that given these developments our meeting will have to be postponed.”

Jarni nodded and stood. “Of course. I would just like to stress that you can depend on the Council to stand behind you in this crisis. But please also consider that the prevailing notion is that Federation resources are stretched to a breaking point already. Another crisis might evaporate the support of key members of the Council.”

“Mister Speaker, I appreciate your advice as always.”

“Thank you, Mister President,” he said and quickly strode out of the office.

As soon as the doors had closed behind him Sill turned to face Kentii’la. “Why did that sound like a threat to me?”

“The Council wants us to leave Nyuchiba alone, it is not a secret.”

The advisor approached the desk. “We might not have that luxury. Not only is Nyuchiba one of our most important trade partners, we might also be bound by treaty to assist them with any crisis they ask us for help with.”

The president rubbed his temples. “If Starfleet had its way we’d invade Asuka III within a few weeks. If we leave it to the Council we turn our back to our most important ally in the sector.”

The Andorian smiled. “They call you the Compromiser for a reason, sir.”

The grin on the President’s lips was so small it hardly looked like a grin at all. Then it was gone completely. “I want this crisis resolved as quickly as possible. We have too much to worry about to be distracted by this. Advise the Diplomatic Corps to make this their top priority and step up their efforts to find a solution. Have them dispatch more mediators if necessary. “

“That might work in the long run but what do we do about the escalating violence on Asuka III?”

“We’ll have to increase support of the Confederacy. Supply them with more resources and equipment in order to pacify Asuka themselves.”

The president noticed his advisor’s skeptical eyes. “It will have to work.”

Sill nodded and headed for the exit. He stopped short of leaving. “Mister President, we cannot afford to lose Asuka III.”

“You’re beginning to sound a lot like Tessier.”

“I hate to be the one to point it out, sir, but this situation could seriously damage your bid for re-election next year.”

“I refuse to have my polices guided by what is best for my campaign,” said the president, only slightly masking his anger.

“I understand your stance but please consider this. You took office with the promise to create a stable and peaceful Alpha Quadrant and we are well on our way to realize those ambitions. The reconstruction of Cardassia, renewed diplomatic ties with the Tzenkethi and Alshain and stable peace and trade treaties with the Gorn and the Tholians are all key elements of this plan which are now at their most critical stages. They require widespread support or we risk the collapse of our entire agenda. And as you know most of your political opponents are waiting for exactly that to happen. If you were to lose your reelection bid and one of your rivals were to take the office, the Federation would quickly reverse course on most if not all those initiatives.”

“You are suggesting that my legacy is at stake?”

“Mister President,” Sill said. "I am suggesting that if we lose Nyuchiba, we might lose our best hope for lasting peace in the Alpha Quadrant.”
020 - "We Need Guns. Lots of Guns." by CeJay
020 “ “We Need Guns. Lots of Guns.”


“As some of you have undoubtedly noticed, MSD’s standard issue weapon, the Fletcher 88 Enforcer is rather ineffective against heavily cybernized targets.”

“Try useless,” said Tank and was quickly seconded by Gavin.

Bobbie Case nodded. “That’s because cybernetic bodies can be configured to absorb a great amount of the energy discharged by conventional beam weapons.”

“So what do we use against them?” Slade asked Sly Martinez who had asked all the members of the team to assemble in the training room, a large holo-suit located at the very center of the building. It’s walls were painted in dull green tones but otherwise the large space was almost entirely empty.

Silvestre Martinez, the Mexican born weapons and equipment expert had a small twinkle in his eyes. “Well, androids and cybernetically enhanced persons are still relatively new on Earth, however in other parts of the galaxy they have been much more common for almost a hundred years or so. On Nyuchiba for example one of out every three persons has been cybernized.”

“Nyuchiba? Isn’t that where you’re from?” asked Gavin and looked at Mech who stood a few feet apart from the rest of the team, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her.

Her only response was a short nod.

“And so is the chief,” said Sly. “He’s used some of his contacts to get us some new equipment,” he added and turned to a table that stood behind him. He picked up a silver and black, pistol shaped weapon. It looked heavier and more imposing than the Enforcer. “This is a Seburo Super Seven Highpower. Like the LT’s weapon it fires duranium laced bullets which are certain to penetrate any cybernetic body.”

Case stepped forward and Sly handed her the weapon.

“Bobbie here has volunteered to demonstrate.”

“No offense,” said Tank, “but are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean she’s a cybernetics expert and not ““ he stopped himself when he caught the fiery look in the young woman’s eyes.

“Just so you know,” she said and turned away, “I’ve undergone Starfleet certified advanced weapons training. I think I can handle this.”

Tank shrugged.

Sly’s lips cracked for a small smile. “Computer, load target practice one.”

A faceless humanoid shaped drone appeared out of thin air just about ten meters from Bobbie Case and the rest of the team.

“Now the first thing you need to know about these weapons is that they all possess a full man-machine interface,” explained Sly.

“What exactly does that mean?” asked Gavin, not sounding too enthused.

“This.”

A holographic imagine appeared a few feet above Case’s head. It was an exact reproduction of Bobbie’s field of vision. When the blonde woman took the Super Seven into both hands and aimed at the drone a yellow head-up display appeared super-imposed over her vision. It featured a target rectangle focused on the head of the lifeless drone, displaying some basic target information, including range and speed.

The lower right corner of the screen showed information about the weapon such as the remaining ammunition.

“This image will be superimposed over your vision by your enhancers every time you draw your weapon,” said Sly and upon noticing Gavin’s frown he added. “It’s optional and you can tell your enhancer not to. But having this up will give you greater accuracy when using your weapon not to mention information on your target and weapon. Trust me after you’ve gotten used to it you will not want to shoot without it. Bobbie, please proceed.”

She gave him a curt nod and then focused in on her target again. On the image above her, the target rectangle flashed red. She slightly squeezed the trigger and the gun fired.

The three bullets perforated the drone’s head easily.

Tank and the other team members showed obvious surprise at her accuracy. She responded with a beaming smile. “And I don’t need my enhancer to do that,” she said.

“The magazine holds 25 bullets,” said Sly. “It can fire up to five rounds a seconds in full automatic mode. It’s effective range is about 500 meters, it has almost no recoil at all and is the most accurate projectile handheld firearm ever built.”

“That all sounds very fascinating,” said Gavin. “But what if we have to stop somebody who isn’t cybernized? With something like this we’re going to blow their flesh and blood bodies apart.”

“Excellent question,” said Sly. “Bobbie?”

She nodded. “Computer, target program 2b.”

The demolished drone disappeared to be replaced by a very similar figure which looked like an animated mannequin, covered from head to toe in pink skin.

Bobbie took aim again “ the rectangle now a green color “ and this time the weapon fired a crimson bolt of energy. The mannequin was hit square in the chest and immediately collapsed.

“The Super Seven also has a stun setting. It will work on most humanoids and is similar in strength to setting two on a standard phaser. The power cell in the magazine will allow for up to 75 stun blasts. If your target doesn’t fall right away just keep firing. Even a Klingon should succumb after being hit repeatedly.”

“Not bad,” said Slade.

But Sly wasn’t done yet. “Now, let’s move on to the heavy equipment,” he said, the twinkle in his eyes even brighter now. He picked up a rifle roughly two feet long and very compactly designed. It featured a very short and small barrel at the font and a smooth, black exterior.

Bobbie took it eagerly. In her hands it looked a whole lot less compact.

Tank was about to speak up again but a quick elbow shove by Gavin made him reconsider.

“The Seburo TJ-7 is our new heavy duty, all-purpose assault weapon. If you are a weapons aficionado you might recognize the design. It is based on the P90 submachine gun popular in the 21st century on Earth. But the design is about the only thing it has in common with that relic.”

Bobbie held up the weapon for everyone to get a good look at it. The heads-up display above her changed to show the new weapon being wielded.

“This is the first ever projectile weapon designed with a high-speed replicator which can produce up to 30 duranium laced bullets per second. It can fire up to 15 of those per second,” said Sly.

“Computer, run target program 3a.”

No sooner had Boobie given the order, a dozen of metallic drones appeared.

She took aim at the first by using the laser sight and fired a short burst. The drone was demolished in seconds. She moved to the next one to deliver the same destructive force. With apparent glee she mowed down one target after the other.

“The preferred firing option is the burst mode. It can also fire single shots or full automatic. The power cell can produce up to 300 rounds before it is exhausted. Bobbie, show’em our favorite mode.”

She nodded keenly, inputted a command into the small access panel imbedded in the weapon’s chassis and took aim at one of the few remaining targets. The barrel slowly rotated and increased the caliber.

Bobbie squeezed the trigger and what appeared to be a missile shot out of the rifle. An ear shattering explosion tore the drone apart.

Half the team members jumped or ducked, being taken completely by surprise by the noise and destruction. Mech hardly even flinched.

A few upset glances were shot towards Sly.

He ignored them. “That’s the 23 caliber grenade launcher. The TJ-7 can fire up to ten of those. But I suggest to use them sparingly as they seriously drain the power cell.”

“Yeah, I think they would,” said Gavin, still trying to get the ringing out of his ears.

“Does this monster come with a stun setting too?” asked Slade, the up until recent team-leader.

Sly nodded. “Of course,” he said and indicated towards Bobbie.

She ordered another mannequin, changed the settings once more, causing the barrel to rotate to a much smaller caliber again and took aim.

She pressed the trigger but nothing happened.

The display flickered a few times then disappeared only to completely reboot, showing the text: Thank you for choosing Seburo Firearms, Nyuchiba’s weapon of choice.

Bobbie quickly checked her settings. “Hang on,” she said and then tried again. A thin crimson colored beam shot out but then abruptly discontinued. The mannequin hardly even moved on impact.

System error #4323-47-B. Please consult your operation manual or contact a Seburo technical advisor.

“That’s going to be real useful,” said Tank.

“I don’t understand, the settings are right,” said Bobbie and checked her weapon again. Sly joined her but didn’t seem to be able to find anything wrong either. “I should point out that these weapons are still prototypes, so they might have a few bugs. Hopefully we’ll be able to iron them out over time.”

“Hold on, your saying we’re going to go out there with prototypes?” asked Gavin, sounding very concerned now. “What if those things blow up in our hands?”

Sly smirked. “Not to worry, we’ve got a full five year warranty on all equipment.”

“I’m worried about my hands, not the damned weapons.”

Tank clasped him on the back. “Maybe it’s time to get some cybernetic ones then,” he said with a smile and grasped air with his own huge hands.

“No thanks, I’m kind of attached to the ones I’ve got.”

“Listen, they’re not going to blow up on you. But for the time being I suggest you use the Super Seven if you want to stun somebody. And please be careful with these. We only have a very limited supply and we’re practically the only ones who use them. Neither Starfleet nor the UEDA have access to these.”

“I feel better already,” mumbled Gavin.

Sly began to hand out the weapons. Mech refused the Super Seven. “I’ll stick to my Glock.”

Sly gave her a puzzled look.

“It’s a sentimental thing,” Tank was quick to explain.

“Alright people, make sure you get your gear. I don’t want you to start shooting at anything or anyone until you’ve familiarized yourselves with your weapons. The last thing we need is somebody taking off somebody else’s head by mistake. Everybody is to take at least ten hours training with the new weapons every week. We’ll start right now,” said Slade but then stopped himself before continuing. He wasn’t team leader any more. Slade looked at Mech.

She nodded to him. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”
021 - "She's Hearing Voices But She Ain't Crazy" by CeJay
021 “ “She’s Hearing Voices But She Ain’t Crazy.”


< Unofficial sources in Starfleet report that the destruction of the starship Tripoli at Asuka III was a carefully planned attack by Nyuchiban rebels who have taken control of most of the planet’s surface. Starfleet Commander-in-Chief Admiral Quinzeros denied any rumors that a fleet of Federation ships close to the Nyuchiban border has been assembled as a precursor to a military invasion of Asuka III. A spokesperson for the administration has reaffirmed that President Kentii’la will continue to pursue all diplomatic avenues available in order to bring a peaceful end to the rising sectarian violence on the Nyuchiban colony.

A recent poll conducted by FNS shows that 53 percent of Federation citizens support a diplomatic solution while 39 percent believe that a military response is required. This number is up five percent from last week and before the destruction of the
Tripoli. The strongest support for military action is coming from Earth’s Asian continent where many see the nikkeijin “ as the citizens of Nyuchiba are known “ as close relatives.

Members of the UE General Assembly have also spoken out for a swift resolution of the crisis and have not ruled out their support for military intervention if -- >

Gavin looked at the woman occupying the passenger seat of the hover. “What do you think of what is happening on Nyuchiba? As a former resident I mean.”

“I try not to,” Mech replied.

“It’s rare to find somebody without an opinion these days.”

“I suppose.”

If Gavin had tried to strike up a conversation with his new team leader he had been utterly unsuccessful. Mech simply pushed a few strains of black hair out of her face and looked out of the window again.

“Say, you don’t talk much, do you?”

Unbeknownst to the young agent, Mech was concentrating on an entirely different conversation. < I had a look at the data you send me from the memory chip and I gotta say your people were surprisingly apt at extracting information from it. Wouldn’t have expected that from your little backwater law enforcement outfit. >

Mech’s lips curled up into a small smile. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Well if you put it that way, I don’t know. I just thought something along the lines of breaking the ice.”

“Small talk?”

< Can I assume from your self-satisfied tone, Trigger, that you found something we’ve overlooked?” >

He nodded. “Sure.”

“I don’t do small talk.”

“Right.”

< Well they wouldn’t call me the second greatest hacker in the history of FedNet if I hadn’t, > he replied. < It was pretty tough to find as it was in the damaged parts of the chip but I managed to locate the company that created the hardware. After crosschecking FedNet I’m pretty sure it’s a bogus firm but I found a well hidden link to a warehouse location right in San Francisco. >

Gavin was not yet ready to give up. He didn’t let the presumed silence settle for too long. “You think we’ll be able to find something?”

She reached into her jacket to retrieve the greenish data chip.

“Bobbie and Travin managed to extract enough information to give us a number of potential locations our suspect might have visited within the last 72 hours,” said Gavin when he noticed the memory unit. “But here we are, following an entirely different lead.”

< Location? >

< Well ahead of you, my dear. I’ve accessed your vehicle’s computer and entered the new destination. >

The hover made a sudden sharp turn, catching Gavin by complete surprise. “What the hell.”

“Relax,” Mech said.

“This is your doing?”

Mech closed her fist around the chip. “I want to know who is behind this piece of hardware. It is pretty impressive.”

“Alright, so where are you taking us?”

< Trigger? >

< An old shipyard in a place called Hunters Point. I’m uploading everything I found to you now. I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat. I do have other clients, you know. >

< Without doubt. Just stay away from those who are trying to retire you permanently. >

< You should worry about your own artificial skin. Much bigger fish are after you, > he said and signed off.

“Hunters Point?” asked Gavin when he noticed the direction they had taken.

Mech nodded. “The old shipyards.”

A few minutes later the hover slowed down as it was approaching its preprogrammed destination. It was the late evening and the beginning dusk gave the entire area a gloomy appearance. The vehicles powerful headlights revealed nothing but rows of old cranes and warehouses.

“And what makes you think we’ll find the supplier here?” asked Gavin as he strained his eyes to find anything that could rouse suspicion.

“I have a reliable source.”

He shot her a quick look. “Not something you would want to share, I take it.”

The hover stopped and Mech deactivated the lights, drowning them into darkness.

“A girl’s gotta have secrets,” she said with a wink and stepped out of the hover.

He got out after her and then followed his new boss as she quickly made her way down the narrow alleyways between the tall storage buildings.

Without any lights to speak off, it was almost pitch dark but Mech “ the LT “ moved with determined purpose.

Cybernetic eyes, Gavin thought. He had to rely on his real pair but managed to stick close to the young woman. When she reached for her Glock he followed suit and drew his Seburo Super Seven. He’d had training with it but the projectile weapon still felt odd in his hand. It was heavier than the weapon he had been used to and required two hands in order to take a steady aim.

Mech stopped so suddenly he nearly ran right into her back.

She pointed at a tiny computer panel next to a well disguised door.

Gavin nodded. He hated doing this but he was not the type to complain to somebody he hardly even knew. He withdrew two dataports, fixed one to the side of his neck and the other right onto the computer terminal.

He was surprised at what he found. < That’s a level five firewall. What do they keep in here, the crown jewels? >

< Can you get passed it? >

< I guess but It’ll take a while, > he replied and went to work.

A bright green light flashed in front of his virtual vision and for a moment he lost sight of the firewall he was attempting to hack. He wasn’t exactly sure but he thought he could make out the feint outline of a purple haired woman.

He logged out and found that the door had opened already.

He threw Mech a surprised glance. She smiled and removed a dataport from her own neck.

“Damn your good. No wonder the old man wanted you on our side.”

Mech smartly slid back the barrel of her Glock to ensure a duranium bullet sat in the chamber and then stepped into the open door.

Gavin dove in after her.
022 - "The Case Of The Old Man And The Stims" by CeJay
022 “ “The Case Of The Old Man And The Stims.”


“This the last one?”

“Yes,” said Jackson Slade, looking out of the windshield of the hover and onto the imposing building stretching into the skies above them. A large blue and silver emblem decorated the tower about sixty meters up, announcing its purpose to the world.

“It’s a monstrosity,” said Tank. “What might Black have wanted here?”

“I don’t know,” the former team leader said and exited the hover after it had come to a halt. “But this is our last lead from the results of Bobbie’s analysis of the memory chip. Let’s see if we can get some answers here. Try to be more inconspicuous this time.”

Tank shot him an annoyed glance over the roof of the hover. “What me?”

“You stand out like a Nausicaan at a Deltan wedding.”

He glared but didn’t speak.

“Just leave the talking to me,” said Slade and led the way across the square in front of the building. Even though it was already after business hours the tall glass doors slid open, allowing the two operatives to enter the lobby.

“Welcome to Federation Plaza,” a friendly female voice greeted.

It appeared to emanate from a three dimensional holographic display of the Federation emblem at the center of the spacious lobby. The sphere was actually a miniature version of the entire Federation territory. It was in constant movement and every few seconds another world flashed brightly, displaying trivia about the highlighted planet.

“Did you know that Tau Ceti III joined the Federation in 2321 and that it was the 127th world to do so?”

“No,” said Tank bored. “But now that I do know I wonder how I ever managed without that knowledge.”

Slade frowned at him.

Tank shrugged it off.

“Can I help you, officers?”

The two men turned to find a receptionist nearby. He was passed middle age and his gray hair was noticeably thinning out.

“How did you know?” Slade asked.

The old man smiled. “I wasn’t so sure about him,” he said pointing at Tank. “But you definitely look like an authority figure. It’s that square jaw of yours. Let me guess, former Starfleet. And now … FedSec?”

Tank couldn’t suppress his bemusement and elbowed Slade. “I stand out, huh?”

Slade ignored his partner. He flashed his badge at the man behind reception. “MSD.”

"Municipal Safety. A fancy name. I remember when you guys used to be called cops," he said and nodded. “And don’t feel bad. It's just that I’ve got a knack for getting people. I guess that’s why I’m stuck down here.”

“Have you seen this man here recently?” Slade said. The ultra-slim padd he had presented containing his digital badge shifted to show a picture of Black.

Neither operative missed the sudden change in the old man’s behavior. A few sweat pearls formed on his forehead almost instantly and his right hand moved under his desk.

Tank’s own hand reached for the grip of his Seburo.

“I … I’m not sure.”

Jackson didn’t buy it. “Come on, you said you have a thing about recognizing people. This guy is pretty obvious if you ask me. You would remember having seen him around.”

Tank began to carefully circle the reception desk, trying to get behind the old man who continued to stare at the image while his hand remained busy out of view.

“It’s just I can’t be sure, you see. There are a lot of people coming in and out of here during the day. So many people, so many faces.”

Tank drew his firearm. “Step away from the desk!”

The old man looked at the imposing weapon with wide open eyes.

Slade took a step back, putting the padd away and reaching for his own gun.

“I won’t say it again.”

The receptionist stepped hesitantly backwards. He was holding something in his right hand and it dropped out of his grip as he backed away. When it clattered onto the floor he looked down at it as if he had never seen it before.

“What is it?” asked Slade.

Tank moved in slowly. “It looks like data ports.”

“I … I don’t know how those got here.”

Tank picked the chip-sized devices off the ground and placed them on the desk. Differently to regular data ports these were white and much thinner, almost as if made out of paper. The disposable devices attached themselves like tape to somebody's neck to deliver a specific program right to the user’s enhancer.

“Stims,” said Slade.

“I don’t use those,” the receptionist said quickly. “I mean … I never did.”

“You’ve been caught red handed, old man. You were trying to hide these form us. And from your reaction to that image I’d say you got them from our guy. We know he deals in those.”

The receptionist looked at Tank with utter puzzlement written all over his face. His eyes were threatening to budge out of his skull. “I swear I don’t know who that man is,” he said and wiped the sweat of his brow. He looked back at the stims that had dropped out of his hand. “And I don’t know about those either.”

Tank exchanged a skeptical look with Slade.

“We have no choice but to take you into custody for using an illegal substance. But you can help yourself if you cooperate with us. It might reduce your sentence.”

The man was near tears. “But I told you I don’t know. Why would I lie? You have to believe me I’ve never used this kind of stuff. I used to be in Starfleet, like you.”

Slade sighed. “Let’s assume for a moment you are right, how do you explain those stims? They didn’t magically appear in your hand, did they?”

He looked at his hands as if it was a possibility. “I … I don’t know.”

< You don’t honestly believe this guy? >
Tank asked through a direct link.

< Something is off here. Why would he continue to insist on his innocence if he dropped those stims right in front of our eyes? >

< God knows, maybe he’s going for the insanity plea or maybe he’s got a major case of senility. Don’t tell me you’re going to buy this act just because the guy was in the Fleet. >

The man was sobbing now, holding his face in his hands.

< Get some uniforms up here to get this guy to headquarters, > said Slade. He had noticed a distracting static coming over the link to Tank. It had only appeared very recently and was nothing more than a background noise which did not prevent him from communicating with the other agent but whatever it was, it was gaining intensity.

< Alright. >

“We have no choice in the matter,” Slade told the receptionist. “Possession of stims is illegal and you will have to face a judge. But I promise that we’ll consider mitigating circumstances if you fully cooperate with us. As much as you can.”

He nodded slowly.

“Who else is in the building?” Slade wanted to know.

“It’s mostly empty at this time of night,” he said between sobs. “The NFTA is celebrating a Japanese holiday in their offices on the seventy-fourth floor.”

“NFTA?” asked Tank.

“The Nyuchiba-Federation Trade Alliance. They have their headquarters here.”

“Anything else happening?” said Slade. “Or any unusual activities lately?”

The old man had calmed down somewhat. He considered the question for a moment and then shook his head. “Not really. We had some high level visits from Paris this week, and they did maintenance work down in the basement the last couple of days. Everything else was fairly routine.”

Two dark blue, four door hovers arrived outside the building. Bright white letters shone through the darkness. San Francisco Municipal Safety. And in smaller letters on the back fender: Oro en paz, fierro en guerra.
A couple of officers in matching blue uniforms exited the vehicles and entered Federation Plaza.

“Very well,” said Slade. “These officers will take you down to our headquarters now.” He indicated to the pair of female agents who approached the receptionist.

“Inform Bobbie Case that he’s been found using stims but insists on his innocence,” he said to one of the officers. “I want a full interrogation and a closer look at his enhancer. He should fully cooperate, isn't that right?"
"Of course," he said quickly.

“Please place your hands behind your back, sir,” said one of the agents and then proceeded to slip a matchbox sized device between the old man’s wrist, forcing them together behind his back.

The old man offered no resistance. “I swear by the oath I took in Starfleet, I’ve never seen those things before,” he said and indicated towards the stims on the desk before he was escorted out of the building.

Tank watched them leave. “What a nut case.”

“Did you notice the static in the comlink?”

Tank nodded. “Yeah, it’s been there ever since we got into this building. What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know but something tells me Black didn’t just come here to peddle some stims to an aging receptionist.”

“Wanna check out the festivities upstairs?”

“I’m not much for parties.”

“You don’t say.”

“You go. I have a look around down here.”

Tank didn’t need to be told twice.
023 - "It's A Stab In The Dark." by CeJay
023 “ “It’s A Stab In The Dark.”


Gavin and Mech had split up to cover more ground inside the dark warehouse.

Gavin hadn’t liked the idea very much and it wasn’t just because he suddenly felt a lot more vulnerable without the LT at his side. The warehouse was still entirely dark and he had not been able to locate a control panel. There was no voice activated computer interface either.

Holding his Seburo tightly in one hand and a tiny pocket torch in the other he slowly made his way down the corridors of the ominous building. So far it appeared to be entirely abandoned. Perhaps her intelligence is not as good as she thought.

He reached one of the larger storage halls. He could feel the immense size of the room but his flashlight did little to illuminate the surroundings.

Gavin froze when he thought he heard faint footsteps somewhere behind him. He whipped around to find nothing but more darkness.

He began to take a few steps backwards only to run right into a solid wall. He turned around again and the light of his torch fell right upon a very familiar face, no two inches from his own. The man wore wrap-around sunglasses, fused to his face.

“Holy crap!”

Gavin took two quick steps backwards and brought up his gun.

Black never even flinched.

In fact he appeared to be frozen in place behind a transparent screen. Gavin approached carefully and soon realized that the android’s entire body stood like petrified inside a duranium casing. And that was certainly not the strangest part of it all. Just to his left was another casing, like the first, it was about two meters tall and half a meter wide. Like the first it contained an exact copy of the android they had named Mister Black. And next to that one there was another. There was an entire row of casings all containing exactly the same model of android. Gavin looked up to see even more sitting on top of the first row. It’s an army.

He could spot at least four rows but there could have been more, he couldn’t be sure without more light.

The operative found a mechanism at the container’s side and the transparent screen opened to allow access to the body. It smelled not too different from the way his hover had when it had been brand new.

The mouth opened easily. He shone his light into the opening and then reached inside. He frowned when he felt a slimy substance inside.

How was your day, honey?’ he imagined his wife asking him later that night. Fantastic really. I had a chance to stumble around a pitch black warehouse and feel around into another man’s mouth. Ya know, routine stuff.

He could not find a data chip inside. When he withdrew his hand it was covered in white goo. He wiped it off on the androids coat. “Sorry ‘bout that. Hope you don’t mind.”

Then footsteps again.

The open transparent screen exploded just inches away.

His face was hit by a few shards, scratching his skin but he hardly even registered the pain. He blindly fired the Seburo into the direction he thought the burst had come from and quickly stepped back, trying to find some cover.

< LT, somebody is shooting at me, > he said his voice raspy and out of breath

< I heard it. Where are you? >

< West part of the building. One of the storage halls. >

Gavin kept firing one phaser blast after the other into the darkness until he found a corner he could slip into. He quickly made sure his six was clear before he spied around the corner again to find his attacker.

He was forced back almost immediately when the incoming fire resumed, smashing another screen and scorching the android’s body inside the chamber.

“Bastard,” he mumbled and checked his Seburo, he was still getting used to this gun. It had clearly not been designed to fire energy blasts and was a little more sluggish on the phaser setting than his old Fletcher. He couldn’t get himself to change to the more powerful projectile mode just yet.

A noise coming from above startled him and he aimed his gun into the air. He held his fire. It was Mech, she had somehow managed to take the high ground and had leaped onto the row of casings. He smirked, she was without doubt the most athletic person he had ever met.

Their opponent had apparently noticed Mech as well and had decided to hit the lights. The powerful illumination blinded Gavin for a moment. His surrounding had suddenly taken on brightly flaring colors.

The attacker opened fire again and the rookie knew that he was trying to shoot Mech. He came out from around the corner and for the first time could see the shooter.

He took aim. “Municipal Safety, drop your weapon!”

The man had no intention of doing so and instead dropped for cover and fired at Gavin.

The operative shot back but neither one was successful in landing a direct hit.

And then Mech came leaping off from the row of casings above. She spun around in mid-air, performing a flawless pirouette as if she was partaking in an Olympic competition, as she dived towards their attacker.

To his credit, the man noticed her approach but she was too fast for him to take proper aim. Before he knew it she had landed in a crouch directly behind him. He spun around but by the time he had, the cold barrel of her Glock was pushing against his forehead. He knew instantly that it did not have a stun setting.

He held his own phaser at his side somewhat unsteadily as if he couldn’t quite decide if he should bring it to bear or not.

In the end the decision was taken from him. Gavin had dashed across the room and quickly snatched it out of the man’s hand.

“Thanks for the assist,” the young operative said.

The man took two steps back and raised his hands. “Alright, easy now, you’ve got me.”

He was of medium height and had short brownish hair and angular facial features. Most noticeably was the prominent vertical ridge sitting on top of his nose.

“You’re Farian,” Gavin said.

The man nodded. “My name is Lutious Agon, I’m an agent with the Farian Security Consortium, a government contractor.”

“Yeah, right.”

“My ID is in my jacket.”

Gavin exchanged a quick glance with Mech who gave him the nod to proceed. His hand darted inside the man’s gray jacket to retrieve a slim wallet. Inside he discovered what he had been told.

“It looks genuine.”

Mech holstered her weapon. “What are doing here?”

“And more importantly, why are shooting at us, you nearly took out my eye,” said Gavin and wiped blood off his face. The cuts stung but they weren’t deep he was relieved to find. His wife wasn’t going to be happy though.

“I thought you worked for Grayson,” the agent said. “My mistake. Can I have that back now?” he added and gestured for his phaser.

“Grayson?” asked Gavin and ignored his request.

The man nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been investigating him for some time for his ties to the Orion Syndicate. We don’t have enough for a case yet but we’re close.”

“That would make sense. If he’s behind the stims market in the city he would have to have a supplier somewhere,” said Mech. “There is no bigger drug cartel in the galaxy than the Orion Syndicate.”

“Sadly so,” said Agon. “I have been trying to get some hard evidence for weeks now but the man covers his tracks well.”

“What about this place?” said Gavin and looked around, for the first time being able to take in the full sight of the hundreds of androids stored here. “If we can link these things to Grayson we might have something substantial. We know for a fact that these androids have been used to distribute stims all over the city.”

But Agon shook his head. “He’s too smart for that. I’ve already checked. The warehouse belongs to a dummy corporation with no links whatsoever to the Grayson Institute. The androids themselves are empty shells. There is no software inside. In fact they don’t even have an AI.”

“Great, another dead end then.”

“What else do you have on Grayson?” asked Mech.

Agon gave her a skeptical look. “I don’t particularly trust Federation agencies, why should I share any of our information with you?”

She answered him with a playful smile. “Well how about a little deal then? You tell us what you know and in return we won’t arrest you for firing on Municipal Safety officers.”

He returned her smile in kind. “You wouldn’t be able to detain me for very long. I have protected diplomatic status. My embassy would make sure I’d be released in no time.”

"You’re clearly not familiar with our horribly complicated bureaucracy then,” said Gavin. “A petition by your embassy would take weeks to be processed. We can drag it out to months if necessary. A long time for you to get an intimate familiarity with our penal system."

Agon nodded slowly. “Fine,” he said. “We’re after the same thing after all. We don’t have much however.” He retrieved a data port and attached it to the side of his neck. Within moments he had copied all the information he was willing to share.

Mech did the same with a data port of her own.

They exchanged devices and the LT attached his port to her own neck. She checked if it had any aggressive firewalls designed to attempt and fry her brain first and only once she was satisfied he wasn’t playing dirty she checked the data.

“Grayson owns a compound out of town, not officially of course, near Half Moon Bay. I know for a fact he’s working on something big there but I haven’t been able to get close. Security is very tight, but you strike me as somebody who might not be deterred by such obstacles.”

Gavin returned Agon’s phaser and he quickly holstered it. “You’ll have to excuse me now, my employers will want to get my report. But who knows? Our paths might cross again,” he said and gave Mech another glance. “It was a pleasure,” he said and walked away.

The young operative watched him leave. “Do you trust him?”
“Not for a minute."

“What do we do now?”

She offered him a seemingly innocent smile.

Gavin knew Mech well enough by now to know that there was nothing innocent about it. “I don’t like when you do that.”
024 - "The Japanese Lady In The Chinese Dress." by CeJay
024 “ “The Japanese Lady In The Chinese Dress.”


When Tank stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventy-fourth floor he felt as if he had stepped into a different world. The little bit of Federation Plaza he had seen so far had been quiet and deserted but not so here.

The massive reception hall which he estimated took up at least three floors in itself was filled with people, music and color. The latter was thanks to an innumerable amount of paper ribbons and streamers which were hanging from the high ceiling, some of which were so low they reached to Tanks’ broad shoulders.

The reception hall itself was extravagant to say the least, complete with a small waterfall that cascaded contently over multiple steps into a pond adorned with large flat stones and lined with bamboo stalks. A wide winding stair-case led to offices on the upper level and in one of the corners, in front of the floor to ceiling windows which were providing a stunning view on Golden Gate, a trio of musicians were pounding large drums to whose rhythmic tones quite a few party goers had taken to dancing on the floor.

Tank watched the spectacle for a minute, fascinating by the synchronized movements of the dancers before he made his way to something instinctively recognizable to him. The bar.

He sat down on a stool and let his eyes wander across the room again. Most of the people here were from East Asian descent, some may have been nikkeijin, Nyuchiban natives. It was very difficult to tell the two apart. Or at least it was for him.

Noticing nothing out of the ordinary but a large group of office workers cutting loose he turned back towards the bar and quickly found the man in charge of the refreshments. The short bartender wore traditional Japanese clothing and looked at Tank expectantly.

“Beer,” Tank said.

The man’s eyes looked back at him blankly.

“It’s a popular malted beverage, usually alcoholic. You might have heard of it.”

“You’re not exactly trying to fit in are you?” a soft female voice asked.

Tank looked to his side to see a beautiful tall and slender woman smile at him. He couldn’t quite help himself to admire how well she fitted in that tight red and golden mandarin dress she wore, the slits nearly reaching all the way up to her hip and revealing a creamy white leg. Her black hair was held up by golden sticks which matched the color of her dress as did the bright red lipstick.

She sat next to him. “You should try the saki,” she said. “You might enjoy it.”

Tank shrugged. “Why not? I’m all for new things.”

“Make that two, will you?” the woman told the bartender.

The man quickly complied and produced two small cups and filled them with the cloudy rice wine. Tank looked at the tiny cup and then back at the bartender. “You might wanna leave the bottle.”

The bartender did.

The woman giggled and reached for her cup. She hesitated and Tank wasn’t sure why until he realized that she was waiting on him. He lifted his own cup. “What shall we drink to?” he asked.

She gave him a wicked smile. “A fun filled evening?” she responded and inched closer. “Because it looks like it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Tank gave her a meaningful nod.

And while she sipped on her drink, he simply tossed his one back.

“Hey, this is good.”

She giggled again. “Told you,” she said and filled his cup once more. The second one vanished as quickly as had the first. “Oh my, I do appreciate a man who can take care of his liquor.”

“If that’s the case, I’m your dream come true.”

Another giggle. Then she held out her hand. “Kara Katanagi, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Tank.”

It took her a moment to realize that it was his name. “Tank,” she repeated reverently. “Now that’s not your real name, is it?”

“Is Kara Katanagi yours?” he replied with just a hint of skepticism.

Giggling she finished her second cup of rice wine. “You know I’ve been watching you ever since you came in.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded seriously. “Oh yes. You are a regular piece of art, Tank,” she said and squeezed his massive upper arm, her small hand unable to cover half of its surface. “Really nice work.”

“You are a connoisseur.” Tank poured his fifth cup of saki.

She nodded again but this time her smile betrayed the serious expression she was trying to make. “And seeing how you’re working yourself through that liquor I’d say those arms are not the only parts of yours which are enhanced,” she said as her voice turned soft as velvet, her cheeks flushing from the alcohol or possibly her words or perhaps both.

“For a young lady you sure know a lot about these things.”

She frowned momentarily and Tank couldn’t help but remember Bobbie Case’s offended expression when he had made the mistake of underestimating her. Kara Katanagi seemed a lot more forgiving though. “I work for the NFTA, silly,” she said. “You know Nyuchiba practically invented cybernetic wetware.”

“Yeah,” he said and flexed the muscles in his arms impressively. “And damn fine work they do, too.”

< Tank, I’ve been looking around and I’ve come across something unusual down here. > Slade’s voice announced, interrupting Tanks current thoughts. The background static had become significantly more prominent.

“Excuse me for a moment, Kara Katanagi,” he said with his best smile and then turned away from her. < What you mean by unusual? Unusual to you is probably nothing more than another day at the office for me. >

< There is a force field here restricting access to the basement floors. >

< See, that’s exactly what I mean. >
Tank said with annoyance. < Where you see some sort of sinister plot I see nothing more than a security measure to keep people from messing around with the plumbing. >

< Alright, how about this then? >
he asked. < There is no access mechanism here to control the force field and the whole thing is completely invisible which if I may remind you is a violation of safety regulations. I checked with the reception desk and there is nothing there to indicate that a force field is even in place. >

Tank scratched his bald head. < Alright, that does sound a bit unusual, I guess. Maybe it’s “ >

< Hang on, I’ve got an incoming call from Case. I’ll put you on. >

Seconds later Tank could hear Bobbie Case’s voice which sounded a lot more faint than Slade’s. The static background had become so strong it was threatening to drown her out entirely. < The man you brought in, I don’t know what you’ve told him but he did allow us a detailed scan of his enhancer. He’s a real nice guy once you get to know him. Not at all the kind of man you’d imagine would be a stims junkie. If you just talk to him for a while he’ll tell you all kinds of interesting stories about “ >

< Just tell us what you found. By the way, the connection is really bad, can you boost your signal somehow? > Jackson interrupted.

< Uh, right. No sorry, there is nothing I can do from this end, it’s originating from your location. In any case what I found is really interesting. We already knew that stims can stimulate the enhancers to increase serotonin levels in the central nervous system similar to when eating large quantities of chocolate for example or during, uh, sexual “ >

< Bobbie. > Slade interrupted again.

Tank smirked as he imagined Bobbie Case’s face turn a deep shade of red.

< Sorry. Basically the stims lowered the firewall threshold of your man’s enhancers. Quite significantly in fact. I can’t say if this is a general effect yet but if it is, persons who use stims could theoretically be extremely susceptible to outside - >

And then the static finally overwhelmed her voice until the connection went completely dead.

< Bobbie? > Tank asked after a few moments of silence. There was no reply. < Slade, are you there? Can you hear me? > But the reply was still the same. His own enhancers told him that the connections had been terminated and every time he tried to re-establish one he got nothing instead. This didn’t usually happen.

“Are you alright?”

He turned around to see Kara Katanagi, a worried expression had now taken hold on her pretty face. “You seem agitated all of a sudden, is there something the matter?”

Tank looked passed her to notice a small group of people who had gathered near the elevator bank. They looked like partygoers and there was nothing really to be suspicious about. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. I have to go.” Tank stood and walked away.

“Oh, so soon?” she asked with such obvious disappointment that even the bartender shot her a pitiful look.
025 - "Nothing Like A Trip Into The Countryside." by CeJay

025 “ “Nothing Like A Trip Into The Countryside.”


His heart sunk slightly when he noticed the expression on his wife’s face. It wasn’t anger as he had feared but disappointment that was mirrored in Frances Thorgood’s eyes.

She tried and failed to suppressed a small sigh. “We’re going to have meatloaf with mashed potatoes and vegetables but I guess you can get what you like from the replicator once you get in.”

Gavin shook his head. “I’m probably going to be too tired to eat once I’ll get back. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Do you have any idea when you’ll be home?”

“No,” he said and glanced out of the window of the patrol hover he had used to contact his wife. It was one of a dozen of MSD vehicles which had since arrived at the old shipyard, surrounding the warehouse which he and the LT had raided earlier. A bunch of uniformed officers and investigators were inspecting the lifeless androids inside and then moving them into large transports.

Gavin turned back to look at his wife. The young woman still managed to look radiant with her long blonde hair and sparking hazel eyes even after taking care of their ever demanding daughter for the entire day. “That new boss of mine has something cooked up. She’s a mysterious one and you never quite know what she’s up to next,” he said and immediately regretted his words.

“You didn’t tell me your new boss was a woman,” Francis replied flatly.

Gavin was momentarily speechless, caught off guard. He had not anticipated this response. “Well, yeah she …“

Frannie’s lips broke for a smile.

“Oh you,” he said after he realized that he had been had.

“I like to see you flustered, honey. It makes you so adorable.”

“You’re awful.”

She snickered before she turned away from the screen for a moment to reach for something. “There is somebody here who would like a stern word with you, too,” she said and lifted a little girl of about four years and wearing blonde ponytails onto her lap.

“Daddy, daddy,” the girl shouted excitedly when she spotted him on her own screen.

“Hey there, honeybee.”

She laughed and produced a sound which was a fairly close approximation of the buzzing of a bee. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped herself and took on a very serious expression. “Mommy says you work too much and I think so also. You should come home.”

He grinned at her. “You and mommy are the smartest women I’ve ever known. I’ll be home tomorrow, ok? I’ll see you both then.”

She nodded dramatically. “Ok daddy. But I will be very angry with you if I don’t see you tomorrow,” she said and then stopped when her mother whispered into her ear. “Oh, and mommy will also be very angry with you.”

Gavin laughed. “No fury like two women scorned. I will see you both tomorrow. I love you, honeybee. And tell your mother I love her too.”

The little girl whispered into her mother’s ear and Francis whispered right back. “She says she loves you too,” she said.

Gavin’s smile widened.

“Be careful, honey,” said Francis just before the screen turned blank.

“Cute family.”

Gavin whipped around and spotted Mech leaning against the hover. She had her back turned towards him as if she had been paying attention to something entirely different. Gavin hadn’t seen or heard her approach.

Gavin nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, they’re great.”

“Well I do hate making you miss dinner,” she said and stepped away. “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to.”

Gavin left the vehicle and followed her as she walked towards the SAFVe which had arrived only a few minutes ago at Mech’s request.

“I’m your partner on this and I’m going wherever you’re going,” he said with determination. “Besides I knew the sacrifices I would be needing to make to work for CCiD. I’m not about to quit now.”

“This could get dangerous.”

He let out a hollow laugh. “I’ve already gotten shot at today, how much worse could it get?”

At that Mech smiled sweetly. “You really shouldn’t be saying things like that,” she said and hopped onto the SAFVe. “You’re tempting fate.”

A few minutes later they were airborne and heading south along the coast. Gavin stood in the back of the SAFVe watching the San Francisco skyline, dominated by FedPlaza. The Federation logo glowing in a dark navy blue in the dusk of the late evening which would soon be claimed by night.

Once they had left Golden Gate behind and the skyline merged into indistinguishable shapes, Gavin turned away from the hatch and walked up to the cockpit were Hot Rod was piloting the shuttle. Mech sat in the co-pilot seat wearing her data port on her neck and seemingly interfacing with the on-board computer.

He exchanged a look with the Jamaican woman helming the shuttle but her expression left no doubt that she knew about as much as he did.

Mech removed the data port.

“You want to tell us where we’re going?” he asked her.

Mech didn’t reply. Instead she switched on one of the computer screens on the instrument panel in front of her. The screen showed an unmarked white hover speeding along a road.

“That vehicle left about 30 minutes ago from Starfleet Headquarters and is now heading south on the 101. I believe it’s carrying Captain Whren.”

“Whren? That’s the man who tried to have you killed,” said Gavin. “What makes you so sure he’s in that vehicle?”

“I used one of your interceptors to keep an eye on him. I’m reasonably sure he is in that hover.”

Hot Rod glanced at the screen and then at her own instruments. “We’re just a few miles behind him. We could catch up to him easily if you wanted to.”

But Mech shook her head. “No. I want to follow him.”

“Why?” asked Gavin.

She turned to look at him. “I had a look at Grayson’s schedule for the day and it appears he’s out of town for two days.”

Gavin didn’t ask how she had managed to get that information. He didn’t want to know. “Grayson is out of town and Whren, a man who practically never leaves Starfleet Headquarters, is also on the move.”

“I think they have arranged a meeting,” concluded Mech for him.

“And you want to know where.”

“I know where,” Mech said.

He gave her a puzzled look.

“Half Moon Bay.”

Gavin nodded slowly.

Mech got out of her seat, passed Gavin and walked into the loading bay in the back. Gavin took the co-pilot seat she had vacated.

“If we maintain this speed,” said Hailey Rodgers, “we’ll reach our destination in about 16 minutes.”

Gavin craned his neck around to see if Mech had heard the pilot but she didn’t seem to pay attention. She had sat down at the back of the SAFVe, inspecting her Glock.

“What do you think of her?” he asked Hot Rod quietly.

The pilot turned her head to look towards Mech for an instant. “She seems alright.”

“Yeah,” Gavin repeated. “She seems alright,” he repeated, sounding a whole lot less assured.

Hot Rod noticed. “You don’t trust her?”

He shook his head slightly. “It’s not that. She and the old man go way back. If he believes in her then there is no reason that we shouldn’t. But we know hardly anything about her and yet here she is, practically running the whole show without really giving us any inkling what it might be all about.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know either.”

He glanced back at his new team leader. “I think she knows more than she lets on. Or at the very least she has an idea. But she’s not the kind to share.”

“Maybe it’s a nikkeijin thing,” Hot Rod ventured.

Gavin wasn’t so sure about that. The old man was a nikkeijn too, wasn’t he? And he was nothing like Mech. And then there was the fact that their new team leader didn’t really look anything like a Nyuchiban. She was tall and lacked the typical Southeast Asian features. Of course not everyone living in the former Earth colony was descended from that region but a large majority had. And then there was something else that was different about her. He hadn’t been able to quite place it yet.

“Well that’s another thing. Sometimes I fear that she doesn’t quite appreciate how things work here. Perhaps Slade was too much by the book but with the LT I get the feeling she has never even read the thing.”

Hot Rod shrugged. “That might be just the kind of person we need right now.”

The two spent the next few minutes in silence. Then when they had confirmation of where they were going and began their own approach Gavin joined Mech in the loading bay. The first thing he noticed was the quiet singing voice. It was a beautiful, melodic sound and something he would have never associated with their tougher-than-nails team leader. But sure enough she was quietly singing to herself while apparently taking apart and re-assembling her firearm.

The old song sounded familiar. It was about a young boy named Johnny who was apparently extremely skilled at playing the guitar.

Mech didn’t take notice when he sat down on the bench opposite her. “Ray Charles?” he asked.

She stopped singing and looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

“The song you were singing? Was it Ray Charles?”

She smiled. “Chuck Berry, actually,” she said.

He nodded. Rock music was really not his field. “You like to sing, huh?”

She shrugged and finished re-assembling the Glock by sliding the magazine into place. “I guess I do it without noticing. Kind of ironic, I suppose.”

Gavin wondered what was ironic about it but didn’t press it further. “We’re coming up on our destination. Let’s assume that you’re right and the place is Grayson’s and Whren is in that hover, heading there to meet him. What are you planning to do? It’s not a crime to entertain guests. You know that, right?” he said, his question sounding silly to his own ears.

“I think Grayson is planning something big and Whren is in on it. If this is a meeting we might be able to find out what it is,” she said and took off her leather jacket and the silver ring she always wore. She stored both securely in a compartment behind her.

Gavin looked on skeptically. Moments later they arrived.

Mech did remain right however. The hover they were following ended its journey at a large estate overlooking Half Moon Bay. A quick check on FedNet revealed nothing conclusive about the owner. If the estate did belong to Grayson he had used a pseudonym for the deed.

Hot Rod landed the SAFVe about a mile east from the estate along the coast.

Gavin and Mech had climbed up a nearby rise which gave them a good view of a picturesque costal landscape, its beauty only hidden by the darkness of the early night. Gavin used a pair of computer-powered binoculars to reveal the compound in the near distance. It was impressively large, at least 10 acres, it sat perched on top of the cliffs, the white waves of the Pacific Ocean splashing away at the rock wall below. There were at least half a dozen buildings, some large enough to house small starships. The entire estate was surrounded by tall security fences which Gavin assumed were equipped with motion sensors.

“Tight security,” said Gavin still spying through his scopes.

“A good place to hide something.”

Gavin lowered the binoculars and looked at Mech. She was also studying the compound but she didn’t appear to need any additional aids to do so. He also noticed that she was wearing her data port, probably accessing FedNet even while she observed the estate.

“We can’t just go in there, we’d need a warrant.”

At this she just smiled. “Preemptive law enforcement doesn’t tend to work very well if we stand around and wait for warrants,” she said, her eyes still focused on the compound, her mind most likely busily diving through FedNet.

Gavin sighed. His background was with regular police work were reacting was much more common than preempting. He was still warming up to the idea of doing things the other way around. “So you want to break in? What about security?”

“It’s a lot less tight than it looks,” she said and then turned to him, still smiling. “Especially when you have the right access codes.”

The young operative was impressed.

“Get your gear, we move out, now.”

Gavin still had reservations but he found it pointless to raise them now. Also he didn’t want to appear skittish in front of his new team leader. He had wanted to join CCiD for a long time, to attack the roots of the crime which had gripped his city, his planet even. If that meant to break the habit of playing it safe then that was a price he was willing to pay.

He walked back to the SAFVe to get a wrist beacon, a field tricorder and an extra magazine for his Seburo just in case. He stopped by to see Hot Rod before he set out with Mech.

“If you don’t hear from us in half an hour ““

“I know, I call in reinforcements,” she said nodding.

“Reinforcements? Forget that. We might not have the time to wait around for reinforcements.”

The dark-skinned woman gave him an amused look. “Hey, I’m just the pilot here, not a field operative, I won’t be able to come in guns blazing.”

“Just … just think of something,” he said frustrated and left, following Mech who had already started out towards the compound.
026 - "Trouble Brewing Above And Below." by CeJay
026 “ “Trouble Brewing Above And Below.”


Tank had hardly even noticed the irritation in his drinking partners’ eyes when he had abruptly excused himself. He had more pressing concerns than to worry about hurting the feelings of a young, pretty lady.

Something was not right. The enhancer technology implanted in his brain stem was among the most sophisticated wetware available in the known galaxy and not prone to sudden failure. Whatever had caused the communications blackout was unlikely due to an internal malfunction.

Now back on his feet and slowly making his way across the large reception hall and towards the elevator bank, Tank once again noticed the group of people who had gathered by the exit. He couldn’t make out faces however; the colorful streamers hanging from the ceiling were a wonderful party decoration but made it near impossible to spy across the room.

He brushed them aside as he walked but to no avail, there were simply too many of them.

What he could see, were their bodies and he thought they were standing too still. Differently to the other partygoers these people were not dancing, no rhythmic swinging nor the relaxed sway that would come from consuming too much alcohol.

These men and women were standing perfectly still. Almost as if they were waiting for something.

He had nearly reached the elevators when a small disturbance caught his attention.

A clearly drunken partygoer had attempted to head into the staircase but he had found that it had been blocked by another man who seemed to refuse him access. There was a bit of cursing and moaning by the intoxicated partygoer until he apparently lost his will to fight for his right to leave and turned back.

The man who hadn’t allowed him through the doors appeared to belong to the same group which had assembled by the elevators.

Things were getting stranger by the second.

Tank finally cleared the area dominated by the low hanging ribbons. He caught a glance of one of the men by the elevators. There was nothing suspicious about him. He was of medium height and his facial features were East Asian which could have made him a nikkeijin or an Earth citizen. His hair was cut extremely short and he wore a black dinner jacket with a small purple orchid attached to his breast pocket. The man’s visage showed little emotion while he calmly observed the room.

He turned ever so slightly, allowing Tank a glimpse under his jacket. And there, he was quite sure of hit, he noticed a metallic glint. It disappeared almost instantly when the man shifted again.

Tank froze. He studied the man’s suit and was sure he could see it bulge unnaturally just above his right hip. A quick glance at the other people in the group revealed similar protrusions.

Then the man with the purple orchid caught Tank’s glance and held it.

The CCiD agent tried his best to look inconspicuous as he slowly turned away, clapping a nearby man on the shoulder as if he was his best friend. The partygoer seemed irritated and Tank quickly grabbed him, pulled him close and put his massive arm around his shoulder, making it impossible for him to escape his grasp.

“Man,” Tank said with a smile as he steered him back towards the bar. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you around this place in weeks.”

The startled man now completely swept up looked at the imposing Tank with widening eyes. “I … I work in personnel,” he stammered. “I’ve been here all week.”

“You don’t say, Jack,” Tank continued, barely listening, instead trying to throw a quick look over his shoulder. The decorations were now obstructing him from view again.

“My name is Oshii,” the man said confused.

“That’s right,” Tank said and gave him a disarming smile.

“Say I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

Tank release Oshii and clapped him on the back good-naturedly. His powerful arm nearly throwing the short man to the floor. “Well, it was nice to catch up, Jack, we should talk more some time,” he said and left him behind as he approached the bar.

“Y … Yeah,” the man said, scratching his head with bewilderment as he watched him go.

Tank found Kara Katanagi still sitting at the bar, looking dejectedly at her cup of saki. He moved right up next to her. “Kara listen, is there another way out of here?”

The woman looked up and a large smile appeared on her lips. “Tank.”

“A way out?” he repeated.

“The elevators and the stairs, I guess,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “It’s a lot of stairs though. I once thought about taking them but I got only about three floors down before ““

Tank didn’t have time for anecdotes. “Do you have a quiet place somewhere away from the party?”

At that her eyes lightened up. “Sure, my office is on the upper floor. It’s private. Very private.”

“Where is it?”

“Room 234A, up the stairs to your left, left again and right at the end of the hall,” she said. “Do you want me to show it to you?” She seemed to want to do that pretty badly.

“You go ahead; I meet you there in a few minutes.”

She nodded and turned but then stopped herself and looked back at Tank as if she had reconsidered. “Listen, maybe we are moving a bit fast here, I mean I don’t even know you at all. Perhaps we should talk some more and ““

“Now!” Tank didn’t yell but his voice was firm as steel.

It made her gulp. She reached for her cup of saki, emptied it in one go, nodded to him affirmably and then trotted off.

Jackson Slade’s communication link had also been terminated unexpectedly and he was as concerned over this as Tank had been.

First he had found the hidden force field which kept him from entering the underground levels of the building and then the com link to both Tank and Case had suddenly cut out. Adding to this, their strange meeting with the receptionist earlier and he was beginning to get a sense of real dread coming from this place.

His first instinct was to get out. He wasn’t all too proud of that but soon realized that it was not just a flight response. If he could return to his hover outside he could try to raise Case again and perhaps get to the bottom of the black out.

Then there was the matter of Case’s report on the receptionist. He had been using stims, that much seemed certain now but what she had found out could signify a real breakthrough at understanding the exact consequences of using the illegal computer programs. Scientific study on them was precariously inconclusive.

More importantly however, he realized, were the practical implications. If stims could be used to somehow circumvent people’s firewalls to gain direct access to their enhancers it was only a small step to give creed to Case’s earlier and previously farfetched theory that Black and by implication Grayson himself was able to manipulate people to do their bidding such as attacking CCiD agents in pursuit of a criminal in a packed commuter train.

Slade turned a corner to head out into the lobby when he noticed a man crossing the room. Something about him felt wrong and once again he was gripped by his flight impulse. This time it probably saved his life.

He backtracked noiselessly to press himself again the wall at the corner moments before the man turned around with a nasty looking weapon in his hand.

Peeking around the corner, Slade’s hand went for his Seburo Super Seven at the small of his back.

The man with the rifle had not spotted him and had his back turned towards him now. Slade could have easily come out of his cover and forced the man to disarm himself.

Two more men appeared by the exit which made Slade reconsider. They were all armed and he figured that revealing himself now as an MSD operative would put him in an extremely precarious situation which could easily end up with him extremely dead.

There was of course no immediate reason to believe these men were killers but there was something about their blank expressions he didn’t like. And then of course there were the weapons. They looked like assault plasma rifles and he couldn’t remember ever seeing one of those on Earth.

When he had been in Starfleet he had come across Orion raiders and Breen shock troops who had been quite fond of that kind of equipment but on Earth weapons of this kind were unheard of.

These men meant business. Deadly business.

The three men, all of them of medium build and height and of East Asian descent, didn’t talk to each other but from what he could tell they were in fact communicating.

So the blackout didn’t affect them
, he thought. This could only mean one thing. These men were directly responsible for it.

A horrible thought crossed his mind. There were a whole bunch of people in this building, thankfully only about a tiny fraction of the regular workforce. There would have been thousands of potential victims if these men had decided to come here during the day.

With a gentle hum, large shutters began to seal off the main entrance, nullifying any hope for Slade to escape and reach his hover outside. The three men seemed contend to stay in the lobby for now.

Slade considered his options. He had to get word out to somebody outside of what was happening. This would be difficult without communications. And even if he was able to alert somebody the chances that they were able to do much about what might be happening here were slim. He hated to admit it but most of Earth’s authorities were ill equipped to handle this kind of situation.

He had to take action.

He decided against using the elevators and found himself in the emergency staircase, looking up at thousands of steps.

“This is not going to be fun.”
027 - "Overload" by CeJay
027 “ “Overload.”


Mech shot a quick glance towards Gavin. < On Three. >

He nodded his affirmation.

< One … Two … Three. >

Both of them ripped opened the doors of the storage container at the same time.

Gavin held his weapon tightly, the wrist beacon flooding the darkness with bright white light and revealing nothing.

Mech had already secured her Glock.

The container was as empty as the previous eleven had been.

“Now what?” asked Gavin, disappointed by having come up empty handed again. They had easily managed to enter Grayson’s compound “ maybe a bit too easily “ and found a number of spacious warehouses. But whatever had been stored here had recently been moved. The twelve large and empty containers littered across the huge warehouse were the only evidence that something had been kept here at all.

Mech had found something else of interest. She had discovered a computer terminal at the other side of the warehouse and headed out to cross the wide open floor. “See what else you can find, I’m going to try to get access to the local network.”

Gavin holstered his weapon “ a bit hesitantly, this place made him feel squeamish “ and walked into the cargo container.

Like the other ones it was quite large, big enough to have been designed to carry industrial equipment or starship components. It was completely unmarked however. A label, identifying its cargo, its point of origin and its owner would have been too easy, Gavin mused with a silent chuckle.

He meticulously scanned every square meter of the container, looking for something that might give any indication of what might have been kept here. There was nothing.

He had one more ace up his sleeve, literally. He pulled up his right shirt sleeve to reveal a small bendable computer panel wrapped around his lower arm. It was a basic field tricorder with rudimentary scanning abilities. A much lighter, smaller and less powerful version of the ones Starfleet used, it could detect a number of substances and also life signs over short distances.

He tapped the panels and waited for the sensors to pick up any trace of what might have been transported in the container. After a few moments of analysis the tricorder produced its findings. Nothing but oxygen and nitrogen. Air.

Gavin turned and headed out of the container. When he reached the doors he looked back one more time, sweeping the interior of the container with the light of his beacon. He noticed something on the floor that startled him. There appeared to be markings there that hadn’t been there before. It took him a moment to realize that they weren’t markings at all.

“Footprints,” he said quietly and then recoiled slightly at hearing his own voice echoing in the hollow container.

For there to be footprints, there had to be something to make them in. He knelt down and wiped the floor with a finger. And true enough he picked up a thin layer of dust.

Gavin activated his tricorder again. This time it yielded results.

A cold shudder ran up his spine when he realized what it was he had discovered.

Mech had gained access to the computer terminal with little difficulties. The protective firewalls were sophisticated but not enough to keep her locked out.

What she found on the local net was something she had not expected.

That huge data knot shimmering in green and white light was immediately familiar. She had seen it before and last time she had tried to gain access to it she had almost paid for it with her life.

Gateway 668.

Was it possible that the firmware for it was right here in this compound? It certainly would explain the massive FedNet activity she had encountered a few days ago and which had appeared to be concentrated in this area. But to what purpose? What was it for and what was it hiding?

There was only one way to find out.

Mech dove into it.

Her cybernetic enhancers still contained the exact routines she had used the last time when trying to hack the massive data knot and access took a lot less effort this time. The first four protective layers were quickly circumnavigated. The level ten firewall protecting the gateway was not nearly as aggressive as it had been when Mech had tried to hack into it before. The reason seemed obvious. The firewalls were in place to protect the information from outside access. They had not been designed to keep somebody out who had access to the local net.

It was still no child’s play and a reckless mistake could still have caused Mech to get spiked badly, possibly blowing out a few relays of her enhancers or worse get her brain fried. That would have been bad. Mech quite treasured her brain.

When she finally got passed all the safeties and firewalls and she was rewarded with the much thought after access-granted sign, she felt the euphoria of a person who had just reached the peak of K-2 with no artificial help, except that for Mech, climbing the infamous mountain peak would have probably been less of a challenge then hacking into Gateway 668.

She allowed herself a playful smirk, imagining Trigger’s face when she told him that she had managed to crack the most notorious program in all of FedNet in under five minutes.

The smile dropped off her face when she discovered what 668 had been hiding.

A flood of information washed over her. It was too much. Way too much, even for her sophisticated cybernetically enhanced mind. A never-ending stream of data engulfed her like water engulfing a person dropped into the middle of an ocean, and it was dragging her down, threatening to drown her.

She fought to stay on the surface, to discern the massive amount of data, to make sense of it and to sort it in a logical way that would allow her to process it. But it was monumental struggle and one she had not been prepared for.

She saw Whren and Grayson and Black, a whole army of Blacks, marching in the streets. She saw Nyuchiba, the massive metropolis she had once called her home, and she saw a skyscraper adorned by a blue emblem, she saw detailed floor plans, she saw Starfleet starships and Marines, she saw Asuka III and a name: Helcon. Over and over again. Helcon. Who was Helcon? Was he behind all of this? There was just too much information, streaming at a pace too frantically to attempt to retain much of anything. But maybe if she could hang on for a moment longer, maybe she could make sense of it all, maybe she could find out who was behind all of this and why they wanted her dead.

Then she heard the faint noise, originating somewhere in the back off her head.

< ... If you can hear me. I think the containers were packed with tri-cobalt, that’s a powerful explosive and judging from the quantities I found, probably enough to turn half a city to dust. >

Gavin stood next to Mech, realizing that she was interfaced with the computer terminal. He knew that she was a good enough hacker to access computer networks and interact with the outside world at the same time but whatever she was doing now was consuming her entire attention, her eyes were out of focus and she had not reacted to his approach or his report.

There was nothing else for him to do but wait until she had completed whatever had captured her seemingly undivided attention.

A gentle humming sound startled him and he turned to find its source. He couldn’t locate it but the sound was increasing which concerned him enough to reach for his Seburo.

Something was coming.

“Mech,” he said quietly, hoping she could hear him. “I think we’ve got company.”

And then he saw it and he wasn’t sure what to make of it at first.

A dark green bulbous vehicle had emerged from in between the cargo containers and approached slowly. It hovered about five inches from the floor and was about three meters in diameter. On top of the lower body sat another bubble shaped apparatus. It seemed to have sensor modules attached to it and a short tube-like device protruded from it.

Realization dawned. That was no mere tube. It was a barrel. A gun barrel.

He whipped around. “Mech! LT!”

When she still didn’t react, he reached for her shoulder, trying to shake her out of her daze, while throwing nervous glances over his own shoulder. The vehicle continued to approach, the barrel now beginning to adjust, taking aim.

“LT, we have to move!” he shouted and tried to pull her away from the computer. It was like trying to pull a freight train, she simply didn’t budge. < LT! >

Mech came around and for a moment she looked perplexed as if she had not expected to disconnect to the network. Her eyes found Gavin’s and she looked all but ready to tear him in two for distracting her.

Gavin couldn’t suppressed a gulp. He had little doubt that she could if she tired. Then he indicated towards the inbound vehicle. “I don’t know what that thing is but something tells me it’s not part of the welcoming committee.”

“AI tank,” she said, recognizing the design immediately.

Gavin did not like the sound of that and if he had hoped for Mech to come up with an ingenious plan to evade the intimating machine he was in for a major disappointment.

“Run.”

To his credit the young operative didn’t think twice. He fell into a fast dash almost instantly, heading towards the exit. A few of the containers would provide cover before he reached it but first he and Mech would have to cover a long stretch of wide open floor which would make them an easy target.

While he ran he noticed two things. One, Mech was not following him and two, the AI tank had come to a halt and the barrel on top was adjusting to take him into his sights. His heartbeat quickened but he didn’t stop, even when he became sickly aware that if that things was half as smart as the name indicated, it would have had no difficulties to hit him with whatever nasty weapon it possessed, long before he could reach the now seemingly enormously distant cover.

Then he heard Mech’s Glock firing “ the sound was quite distinctive “ the duranium-laced bullets penetrated the tank but didn’t appear to do much to stop it.

No, Gavin realized, they did have the desired effect. The tank was readjusting again, this time to take aim at Mech who still stood where she had before, fully exposed.

Gavin reached his cover and slid behind it.

Mech had began to move towards him but even utilizing her incredible speed, she was still too slow. The AI tank fired a blue energy bolt which exploded right in her path, the shockwave of the impact catapulting her high into the air. Gavin watched helplessly as she crashed back onto the hard floor with such force that it would have killed most humans instantly.

She remained there motionless.

The tank approached her to finish the job.

Hidden behind the container, Gavin could do nothing but watch.
028 - "Not the Kind Of Evening You Were Hoping For." by CeJay
028 “ “Not the Kind Of Evening You Were Hoping For.”


Something was going to happen and it was going to happen soon.

Tank had counted a total of seventeen suspicious bodies, all of which appeared to be armed. He couldn’t be certain of the exact number or what kind of weaponry they were sporting as any more obvious attempts to gather this information would have caused suspicion. Tank was not cut out for subtle reconnaissance work, he knew that. His massive body frame alone made him stand out. Even more so in a room filled with people three heads shorter than him

The suspects were blocking the only exit Tank knew about and refused to let anyone leave the party, not taking any notice of the curses and protests produced by the partygoers. But it would come to blows soon enough, Tank was convinced of that.

His options were limited. He could not call in for help and a communications terminal in the lobby had also refused to establish any outside line.

He could have attempted a preemptive strike and try to take out these people before they had a chance to bring their plan “ whatever it was “ to fruition. The idea appealed to Tank. But from a practical standpoint it was not a good option. Seventeen or more armed suspects against him were not particularly favorable odds even if Tank tended to like a challenge. If he was free to utilize deadly force he could see a chance of pulling it off. But he also had to consider the collateral damage that would ensue from such actions. By his estimates there were about 40 to 50 partygoers, entertainers and caterers in the lobby and he could imagine no scenario in which they could possibly all survive if Tank would resort to drastic measures.

The CCiD agent decided on a tactical withdrawal. A generally sickening concept but one very necessary if he wanted any chance at finding a way to bring an end to this potential crisis with a minimum amount of casualties.

He managed to climb the large staircase undetected, the streamers hanging from the ceiling, hiding his ascent. Upstairs he found the corridors empty, the partygoers were steering clear of their offices on a day that was all about celebrating and forgetting the daily work routines.

Tank found what he was looking for quickly. The digital display next to the door read: 234A. Kara Katanagi. Nyuchiba Liaison Officer.

The CCiD agent looked over his shoulder one more time to ensure he was alone in the corridor and then slid open the fusuma sliding door. He slipped inside without taking any notice of the office, instead focusing on closing the door with as little noise as possible.

Tank could hear Kara’s unmistakable giggle behind him. “I was beginning to think you stood me up,” she said softly. “I just want you to know that I don’t usually do this,” she continued and giggled again. “There ought to be a law against saki.”

“Listen,” began Tank and turned around, “is there another way to get out …“ he stopped abruptly, his voice failing him the moment he noticed her standing in the middle of the room wearing nothing but her underwear.

“I take it you like what you see,” she said seductively.

Tank would have lied if he had said no. Her modesty was preserved only by matching bra and panties which he took some pleasure in noticing also matched the color of her red lipstick. Kara Katanagi seemed very color coordinated.

She approached him slowly. “Is it what you expected?”

“No.”

She froze a moment and gave him a puzzled look.

Tank rubbed his eyes. “I’m not here for this,” he said.

She looked very uncomfortable with her semi nakedness all of a sudden. Her face began to also turn the color of her lipstick. Then she scrambled to find her dress. “You are a terrible man,” she said with sudden anger. “I can’t believe you led me on like this you … you,” she had apparently decided to turn to anger now and her voice was rising with every word.

“Will you be quiet, woman,” he said with a harsh hiss and followed her across the room.

“I took you for a gentleman but you are nothing more than a common ““

The not so distant sounds of weapons fire immediately followed by screams and panicked shouts cut her short.

Tank too froze and turned towards the door.

“What is happening?” she asked, sounding terrified now.

The agent moved noiselessly towards the door and parted it just enough to spy outside. The corridor was still empty but the shouts and screams had not abided. There was chaos ensuing in the lobby and it took all his will power not to leap out of the office and rush to the scene.

He felt Kara Katanagi now pressing herself against him. “What … what is happening down there?” she asked again, her voice so shaky it was threatening to fail her entirely.

The firing had stopped and so had most of the screams. In their stead there were moans and soft cries coming from the reception lobby now. Then a dominant but flat voice issued instructions. Tank didn’t get all of it but the gist was clear: Everybody remain calm and cooperate and nobody gets hurt. Hostage taking 101.

He had been afraid of something like this happening. He had hoped it wouldn’t until he had come up with a plan or had a chance to speak to the outside but the bad guys never seemed to operate on his schedule. He slid the door shut quietly and turned to look at Katanagi.

She had heard some of it and had drawn her own conclusions. She stood shivering with the back to the window now, having tried to put as much distance between herself and the horrible things that were taking place in the lobby. She held her dress in front of her, too scared apparently to even put it back on.

Tank regarded her for a moment before he spoke. “Is there another way off this floor?”

But Kara Katanagi didn’t say anything.

He sighed and took a step towards her. She was scared and needed somebody to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. Unfortunately Tank was not very good at that. “I’m with MSD, alright? I’m going to take care of this but I need to know if there is another way out of here.”

“Are we … are we going to die?”

“Don’t be silly, woman,” he said harshly.

It did not have the intended effect as it only caused her to shiver again. He took a deep breath before he tried once more. “No,” he said firmly.

That seemed to relax her a little bit.

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. Now why don’t you put your clothes back on and tell me ““

There where footsteps out in the corridor.

Kara looked all but ready to yell out in fear.

Tank grabbed her, his massive hand clasping over her small mouth and then dragged her under her wide desk near the window. There wasn’t much room there for Tank but he managed to squeeze himself into the small space somehow. He had to move the diminutive woman on top of him however. It was uncomfortable to say the least but he didn’t mind her sweet scent and soft skin. Katanagi seemed too scared to pay attention to their compromised position.

Not a moment after they had found refugee under the desk, Tank heard the door being slid open. As he couldn’t see who had entered, he closed his eyes to focus on the sounds. His firm clasp over Katanagi’s mouth made sure she remained completely silent.

Two persons had stepped into the room. He was surprised that they didn’t seem to talk to each other. He could hear the faint metallic noise of weapons sweeping the room.

One of them remained at the door while the other walked deeper in the room.

Tank’s second hand found the handle of his Seburo but he dared not to draw it in the confined space. If he was discovered he would have to act quickly, probably smashing the solid desk with pure force and engage the enemy while keeping the woman pushed to the ground for cover.

The person walked towards the adjacent washroom and opened the door. Then a moment later he walked back the way he had come from. Relieved Tank heard the office door being slid shut again.

He remained in place even when he was sure the footsteps were moving away and down the corridor. He felt Katanagi squirm in his grip, when she noticed for the first time how uncomfortable she was. Now she desperately tried to free herself.

He smiled at her. “I wonder, when you talked about a fun filled evening earlier if this was what you had in mind,” he whispered in her ear.

She mumbled something in return which was unintelligible with the hand over her mouth. Her eyes were words enough though, they were burning with resentment.

Tank forced himself not to laugh and then slipped out from under the desk, letting her go.

Her flash of anger had dispelled her fear for the time being and she quickly slipped back into her dress. “You should be ashamed of yourself to draw pleasure from such a situation,” she said, wisely keeping her voice down.

“Sure, honey, thank me later,” he said and walked back to the door, he found the corridor behind it empty again.

Moments later Katanagi joined him, now fully dressed. “What do you intend to do to get me and the others out of here?” she asked.

Tank regarded her with apparent surprise. “Now that’s an impressive turnaround.”

She frowned at him questionably.

“Not a minute ago you were scared for your life and now you are making demands.”

“You are a peace officer, aren’t you? You should go out there and convince these people to surrender themselves.”

“Is that what I should be doing?”

She nodded firmly. “These … these individuals whoever they may be are clearly not thinking straight. They have barged into a Federation building firing weapons and putting people in danger. You must do something before this escalates.”

“And you’ve come to this conclusion how, exactly?”

She regarded him as if he was a child unable to grasp the most elementary concepts. “It is obvious. Who has ever heard of something like this happening on Earth? I wouldn’t be surprised if this had occurred on Nyuchiba but it shouldn’t happen here.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve seen, lady. I’ve seen a dozen or so well organized, heavily armed men and women infiltrating this party fully prepared and without causing any suspicions, blocking off all obvious exits and taking control of an entire room filled with hostages within seconds. Now this sounds to me like a very carefully planned and executed operation. And you suggest that I go in there with my little 25-rounds handgun and force them to surrender to me? Lady, you are quite easy on the eyes and you make for some halfway decent conversation but why don’t you leave the police work to me, okay?”

Kara Katanagi crossed her arms in front of her chest and assumed a facial expression which to Tank looked very much like pouting.

Undisturbed with offending the young woman Tank continued. “Now, I ask again, is there another way off this floor? A prompt response would help me out immensely in trying to get this situation resolved.”

She decided to remain stubborn for just a few seconds more. “I think there is a maintenance access in the washroom. I’m not sure where it leads.”

“Well, let’s find out,” he said and headed towards the washroom. He noticed that she wasn’t following. And then he noticed something else. Her face had turned white again.

He was just about to ask what the matter was when he heard the soft footfalls in the corridor. These were different than the ones before, less determined, but they were coming closer.

Katanagi was petrified, unable to move away from the door, fearing that the slightest noise would draw attention to her.

Tank tried to motion her to move towards him and away from the door but she couldn’t do it.

He reached for his Seburo and slowly approached her. The footfalls had reached the door and stopped. He could see the shadow of a figure just beyond it. Tank carefully pushed Katanagi against the wall and then slid the door open two inches.

The man had his back turned to Tank and was apparently looking down the corridor. He had not heard the door being opened.

Tank decided to act. He opened the door further, reached out for the man, his hand once again clasping over his mouth to muffle any noise and dragged him inside with one swift motion.

The man tried to fight but it was entirely useless, like a fish caught in the net, he had no choice in the matter.

Tank held him firm long enough to ensure the corridor was clear before he pulled the man onto the ground. “Get the door,” he whispered to Kara.

She obliged reluctantly.

The man now lying flat on his back with Tank hovering above him continued to struggle and tried to scream unsuccessfully until he noticed the gun pushing into his forehead. His eyes widened.

“I think we understand each other,” said Tank. “I’ll remove my hand now. You make so much as a peep and you’ll get far more acquainted with this little firecracker than you’d like,” he said good-naturedly. Of course he had no intention of shooting the man. Besides, the gunshot would have been too loud and alerted everyone of his presence. But a good whack with it would do the job equally well.

He removed the hand from the man’s face and recognition dawned on him immediately. “I’ll be damned,” he said and looked at Kara. “It’s Jack.”

“Who?” she asked confused and walked around Tank to get a better look at the man. “Oshii?” she said and quickly helped him up. “What are you doing here?”

Oshii was still trying to catch his breath. He looked confused and his eyes darted back and forth between her and Tank.

Kara noticed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright Oshii,” she said softly. “He’s here to help,” she said and then with a scowling look at Tank she added, “I think.”

The MSD officer rolled his eyes.

“What happened in the lobby?” she asked.

“These people,” he said out of breath, “they just showed up and began waiving these huge guns around. I don’t know who they are they just … they just … it’s insane.”

“Alright, Jack, calm down and tell us exactly what happened,” Tank said.

Oshii took another breath and relaxed a little when he noticed Kara’s sympathetic smile. “All of a sudden they started to shoot at some of us. Then they said that if we cooperate and remain still we won’t be harmed. But … but I think they’re lying. They took four people on the elevator and they’re going to the roof. I don’t know why.”

“The roof?” Tanks asked more to himself.

“Did they say who they are or what they want?” Kara asked.

“Their leader“I think it’s their leader, he’s the only one who has talked“send a message to the outside. I think he said he was from Nyuchiba but I couldn’t make out the rest.”

Kara looked at Tank. “Nyuchiba. That explains it,” she said as if she had been right all along.

“It explains nothing, lady,” Tank shot back and then gave Oshii a suspicious look. “How did you get away, Jack?”

“I … I crawled up the staircase. There was a moment when nobody was looking my way and I crawled up. I took me ages but I got to the top. I thought I could hide somewhere up here and wait until it’s all over.”

“You’re a regular hero, Jack.”

“Would you stop calling him Jack,” Kara said annoyed. “His name is Oshii.”

Tank didn’t pay her any attention. “You said they took them to the roof? When?”

“Only a few minutes ago, I noticed it when I reached the top of the stairs.”

Tank nodded and walked towards the washroom.

“It’s alright, Oshii, Tank will take care of us. I’m sure he’s coming up with a plan to get us out of here right now.”

The young man seemed relieved to hear this.

In the washroom Tank found the access hatch Kara had mentioned. Behind it was a shaft which led upwards and Tank speculated that it might lead to the elevator shafts, or at least he hoped so. The shaft was narrow, just large enough to accommodate his massive frame, but not a millimeter wider than that. It would be a most uncomfortable journey.

“What are you going to do?” Kara asked who had followed him.

“I’m heading for the roof.”

“And leave us here?”

Tank turned to face her. She was turning pale again. “You’ll be safe if you stay in this room. They’ve already searched it so they have no reason to come here again. Just keep quiet and don’t do anything stupid.”

“You can’t be serious about leaving us here.”

“A minute ago you wanted me to get out and take action and now that I do you don’t want me to leave. Make up your mind.”

Tank noticed the anger subside and the fear winning her over again. “I … I don’t want you to leave.”

He nodded understandingly. “I have to. They’re taking hostages to the roof, that can’t be a good sign. But I’m convinced it’s going to be safe for you here. I promise I’ll come back for you.”

She didn’t seem convinced.

Tank reached into a pocket and produced a matchbox-sized device. “This is a class-I phaser,” he said and rotated it with his fingers to show it to her. “It’s quite effective on short range. Take off the safety here and then press this large button to fire. But don’t use it unless you absolutely have to, don’t take foolish risks,” he said and handed the small device over.

She took it awkwardly, like somebody who had never held a weapon before.

“If you have to use it make sure you point it away from yourself,” he said when he noticed that she was holding it the wrong way.

“You promise you will come back?”

“Yes,” said Tank. Then when he noticed her beginning to shiver again he stepped up to her and held her. “You’ll be alright. Just sit tight until I come back.” He let go of her even while she tried to hang on to him.

Then Tank slipped into the maintenance shaft and disappeared.
029 - "Stuck In The Middle With You." by CeJay
029 “ “Stuck In The Middle With You.”


Gavin had to do something.

The AI tank had closed in on Mech’s unmoving body and was moments away from finishing the job.

He reached for his Seburo and lined up the shot which thanks to the heads-up display could not have been any easier. He made a quick note to himself to thank Sly Martinez for introducing the feature.

He then switched the weapon to projectile mode and immediately felt a tang of concern. It would mark the first time he didn’t use the phaser setting in the field. There was of course no time for hesitation now.

Gavin fired ten rounds in quick succession each one accompanied with a dull bang every time a bullet left the chamber. All bullets found their mark and penetrated the outer casing of the tank. They did not cause the damage he had hoped for. It did however turn to face him.

He began to step backwards, squeezing off another seven rounds. His aim remained true and the effect on the intimidating battle machine was still the same. If anything it made it angry, if that was possible.

The machine set in motion to close in on him, the barrel adjusting to fire.

Gavin turned and ran for his life, fully aware that the AI tank had set out to hunt him down.

He ran along the length of the container and heard the hum of the moving battle machine behind him. His heads-up display “ still superimposed over his vision “ told him that his gun was down to 8 bullets. Not overly experienced with projectile weapons he decided to change magazines, after all 25 sounded a lot better than 8. His thumb found the switch which released the magazine and it clattered to the floor. He reached for his replacement mag and slid it easily into the Super Seven without ever slowing down his pace.

Once he reached the end of the container he had a split second to make a decision. Keep going straight ahead for the exit or make a u-turn. The exit some 100 yards away looked mightily inviting but he’d be entirely exposed. He made the turn for another reason. Gavin was not going to leave Mech behind.

He took the next turn too quickly and slipped on the smooth floor of the warehouse. A moment of panic gripped him when he harshly collided with the ground and his gun slipped out of his hand.

He could hear the tank gaining on him.

He had landed on his left arm and it was now in fiery pain. He knew that a cybernetic limb would have been able to absorb the impact with no difficulty. He had no time to debate the pros of cybernization.

Gavin picked himself up, trying to ignore the throbbing in his bruised arm. He reached for his weapon and within moments was on the run again, continuing alongside the container and back towards Mech. The tank was still on the opposite side but only a few heartbeats behind him.

He cleared the container and found Mech still lying on the floor. Rushing towards her he tried to wake her as he approached. “LT! LT, we got to get out of here.”

He slid to his knees and shook her by the shoulders. Her form-fitting suit was ripped in places but her skin seemed unscratched and Gavin didn’t spot a single droplet of blood.

“LT!”

She opened her eyes. “You should have gotten out while you had the chance,” she said with surprising calm. Her voice sounded calculated even.

“I was not about to leave you behind.”

She smirked. “That’s awfully sweet of you,” she said and then easily stood up.

Gavin looked at her with bewilderment. “I thought you were injured.”

“I’m fine.”

And then he realized his mistake. Mech had only pretended to be injured in order to get closer to the tank. He felt a dull anger rising within him. After all he had just risked his neck to come back and rescue her.

“No time for regrets,” she said as if she had just read his thoughts. “I need you to head down that way now,” she added and pointed into the opposite direction of the exit. “There is another tank in here.”

“What?”

But she already pushed him along. “Go.”

The AI machine that had been following Tank re-emerged from behind the container and that was all the motivation the young operative needed to get moving.

He looked behind him to see Mech having picked up her Glock again, firing at the approaching tank. Then it responded in kind and for a second he feared she would not be able to evade a second blast. But the LT jumped aside with the ease of a circus performer. Then she leaped into the air only to land right on top of the vehicle.

< Turn left at the end of the warehouse. >

Gavin had no idea what she had in mind but he was not going to argue with her now. He did as he was told and after a few moments he was once again surrounded by containers, losing eye contact with Mech.

He felt not unlike a mouse trapped inside a maze. He was surrounded by high walls created by the tall and lengthy containers. Gavin had only the vaguest idea where he was but none whatsoever how to get out.

< Turn left now. >

He decided to trust her. After all it seemed she knew what she was doing which was more than he could say for himself. He turned only to be directed down a long and narrow path.

What was Mech doing and how did she know where he should go?

He was halfway to the other end when something moved in to block the opening. Gavin’s heart stopped. It was an AI tank and it had a clear shot on him now. There would be no cover and no place to go. Mech had led him into a trap.

With no other alternatives available to him he spun around, trying to make it back the way he had come from. He tried hard to ignore the truth of the matter. He didn’t have a prayer to get back to the other end and find cover before that tank opened fire.

And then the unthinkable happened. Another tank slowly moved around the corner to block his only route of escape.

“Shit.”

He raised his gun without a second thought. Effective or no, the only option left to him was to try and blast himself out and hope he would hit a weak spot.

But Gavin froze when he realized that right on top of the machine, sat Mech, riding the tank like Patton in Normandy. She was wearing her data port on her neck and a similar device was attached directly to the tank’s outer casing.

He didn’t know how she’d done it but somehow she had managed to hack the AI and it appeared to follow her every order now.

For just a moment he forgot that there was another deadly tank approaching him from behind.

Mech was kind enough to remind him. “Get down.”

With an inkling of what was about to happen, he flattened himself to the ground. Not a heartbeat later he heard the tank behind him fire. And so did Mech’s.

The temptation to close his eyes was enormous but if he had he would have missed her acrobatic leap off the tank just a moment before it was ripped apart by a massive plasma discharge.

He did shield his eyes and then quickly looked behind him where he heard a similar explosion. The two tanks had obliterated each other.

“Are you alright?”

Gavin stood up slowly and needed a few seconds to notice that her voice had come from above him. Mech stood on top of the container with a somewhat satisfied expression on her face.

“Honestly, I’ve been better,” he said and was not embarrassed to admit to it. “Next time I’d appreciate a heads up.”

“Sorry,” she said and dropped down next to him.

Gavin was not appeased that easily. “You could have told me what you’d planned instead of using me as unknowing bait.”

“I didn’t really have a plan. I was making this up as I went along.”

The rookie agent blanched.

She patted him on the shoulder. “And you did real good. Couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. “Now how about we get out of here?”

Gavin just nodded and they both made their way towards the exit.

He desperately wanted to know how she had managed to do what she had done but his mind was still swarming with one too many near-death scenarios. He had expected to get himself into one or two dangerous situations when he had signed up for CCiD but this he had not foreseen. And he had certainly not expected somebody like Mech, a woman of almost superhuman abilities, at his side.

They crossed into the open warehouse space again and Gavin was still wondering how he had managed to survive the last minutes when Mech stopped cold.

He didn’t need to ask why. Two more tanks had appeared, standing between them and their one and only way out. “Damn, where are these things coming from?” he said. “It’s like they’re preparing for a war.”

“Maybe they are,” said Mech and drew her gun.

“Please tell me you’ve come up with a plan to get us out of here alive,” he said and followed suit, painfully aware that neither of their weapons had proven effective against their resilient opponents.

Mech remained quiet and Gavin swallowed.

The two tanks began their approach.
030 - "Please Stand By For A Special News Alert!" by CeJay
030 “ “Please Stand By For A Special News Alert!”


“We interrupt our regular broadcast with a breaking news story,” said the Trill newscaster, a serious expression on his face. “22 minutes ago residents of Earth were surprised to find that most broadcasts feeds and cyberlink frequencies were hijacked by an unsanctioned feed from a group of terrorists which have taken numerous hostages at FedPlaza in San Francisco. We will now re-run this feed. Please be warned that this is material not deemed suitable for young children or those sensitive to disturbing content.”

The newscaster disappeared to be replaced by another warning message.

The feed was slightly grainy and not perfectly clear, giving further evidence that whoever had broadcasted it had done so illegally. It showed a row of people, sitting on the floor, their hands bound behind their backs. They were mostly young and middle aged men and women and they all looked scared. Some avoided to look directly at the screen but those who did were pleading with their eyes. Some had minor cuts and injuries on their faces, signs of a recent struggle.

Nobody spoke.

“Citizens of the Federation,” a monotone voice began, “pay close attention to these faces as they will be the first victims of your own thoughtless actions. These men and women will be the first to die in this war of your own making. Your ignorant leaders “ whom you have followed so blindly “ have set you on a course of self-destruction. Make no mistake, you alone will be to blame for their deaths.”

After the presentation of the hostages the man speaking was revealed. He, like most of the hostages, was of East Asian descent and was smartly dressed in a black dinner jacket. A small purple orchid was attached to the breast pocket. His own face however was blurred out and completely unrecognizable when he faced the screen.

“We are members of the Freedom for Nyuchiba Society and as of 2100 hours Federation Standard Time we have taken 58 hostages here at Federation Plaza in the city of San Francisco on Earth,” he said, keeping his voice almost entirely free of any kind of inflection. He slowly walked passed his hostages while he spoke but always facing the screen. “For too long have we sat by quietly while you have meddled in the affairs of our people. For too long have we tolerated the Federation’s poisonous influence on our world. Many decades ago we severed our links to Earth but like any empire the Federation has never fully accepted our decision.”

He walked all the way up to the twenty feet tall floor-to-ceiling windows. He turned around to have the bright city skyline as his backdrop. “We have come to you now, into the heart of the Federation to tell you in no uncertain terms that Nyuchiba has had enough of your meddling. Demand from your leaders that the Federation immediately and unconditionally retreat from Asuka III and all Nyuchiba controlled territory. It is not too late to save your own people. But time is against you. We will execute the first of our hostage at exactly 2200 hours and then another one every hour until your government has agreed to our demands. The fate of these people rests solely in your hands.”

The transmission ended.

The Trill in his news studio reappeared. “We now go directly to our own correspondent Silvia Sanchez who is live on the scene in San Francisco. Silvia, what is the situation where you are now?”

The image shifted to show a pretty blonde woman wearing a sharp blue suit standing on a street about half a block away from the massive FedPlaza. “Jaxon, as you can see I am just a few hundred meters away from the building in which the hostages are being kept,” she said and pointed to one of the upper floors, one of the few where lights were visible. “According to our information the hostages are being held on the 74th floor. The authorities were not aware of this situation until these terrorist revealed themselves and their motives with the illegal broadcast we have just seen. In fact my team and I were amongst the first on the scene here.”

“Amazing,” said Jaxon who was still visible through a small inset screen at the bottom right. “Now I see a lot of activity behind you. A number of authorities now appear to be on site.”

The correspondent moved aside to allow the camera to get a better sight of what was taking place behind her. The street had been blocked off and a large number of people in all kinds of uniforms were making their way busily back and fro. Dozens of street vehicles, transports and even a few shuttles were littering the street immediately in front of FedPlaza.

“That is right, Jaxon,” she said. “We’ve been able to identify officers of the local Municipal Safety Department, the San Francisco Sheriff’s Department and also quite a few Starfleet officers. This might not be surprising considering that Starfleet Headquarters are located in this city. We’ve also seen UEDA officers, members of the California Security Administration and a few plain clothed persons we believe to be FedSec agents.”

The image zoomed in to focus on a Starfleet runabout which was easily the single biggest vehicle present.

Silva came back into the frame and looked down at a padd she was holding. “This large vessel right behind me is a Danube-class Starfleet ship,” she said, reading from her padd. “The USS Huang He. According to our information she is attached to Starfleet Headquarters and is currently used as a tactical command center.”

“Would it be safe to assume then that Starfleet has been placed in charge?”

“I wouldn’t be able to answer that at this point. So far the only official statement has come from a Municipal Safety spokesperson who has told us that the situations is being dealt with by a special task force and that they are confident that it will be resolved quickly and with little or no violence
.”

“This means we do not know who is actually in charge.”

The blonde shook her head. “No but I should point out that no precedent exist. What we are looking at here is the first hostage crisis on Earth in almost 150 years and judging from the reaction of those we have spoken to it has caught everyone here by utter surprise.”

The Trill nodded in agreement. “It has certainly caught us by surprise, Silva. Any idea on what a non-violent resolution of this situation might look like? Has there been any more negotiations with these terrorists?”

“Again, we haven’t been given any details and I wouldn’t want to speculate but you would think that with the use of transporter technology it should be fairly easy to rescue the hostages. We haven’t been told anything as to negotiations or any methods being used to resolve this crisis.”

“Thank you, Silva,” the anchor said. “Silva Sanchez will remain on site and update us on any further developments as they take place.”

The image shifted and Jaxon became dominant again with the a live feed of FedPlaza remaining at the bottom of the screen with a bold caption reading: San Francisco Hostage Crisis.

Back in the studio I would like to welcome two guests who might be able to shed some light on these very unexpected developments. Coming to us via subspace from Vulcan, we have Professor Tirnok from the Vulcan Science Academy and writer of the recent book The Invisible Threat: An Analysis of the Attempts of Foreign Powers to Undermining our Society from Within and directly from San Francisco we welcome Mister Michael Gary Grayson, founder and president of the Grayson Institute and outspoken government critic. Thank you both for agreeing to appearing on our show on such a short notice.”

A split screen revealed both men, an elderly Vulcan scientist with a stern visage, sitting calmly in a chair with the Vulcan desert plains visible behind him and a man of less than half his age and handsome features and undeniable charm. Two polar opposites.

The Vulcan barely moved his head to acknowledge the Trill moderator.

“Thanks for having me,” said Grayson with an easy smile.

“Now Professor if I may begin with you. You are one of the Federation’s most accomplished researchers in the field of criminology, espionage and terrorism. Your most recent work has in great details looked into the possibility of foreign powers trying to infiltrate our society and causing turmoil from within. In your professional opinion what is it that is happening here with these Nyuchiban terrorists attacking Earth in this manner?”

“What we are witnessing in San Francisco is a classic example of a foreign terrorist fraction attempting to pressure our government to act in a way which is compatible with the terrorist’s own goals. There are a great number of comparable examples throughout history. These attempts have minuscule success rates and are extremely uncommon within the Federation.”

“So these terrorist should know that the government will not negotiate with them. What are they hoping to achieve?”

“In order to understand these terrorists one must first understand the culture from which they originate. Nyuchiba is a violent society not unlike Earth of the 20th century. Fear and intimidation are common place. What we are seeing is an illogical attempt to bring proven methods to an entirely different environment with the expectation that similar results will be achieved.”

“Mister Grayson,” said Jaxon, “you are a great admirer of the Nyuchiban people and I understand many of your works focus on how the Federation should turn to these “ some would say “ outdated ideals instead of continuing on our present path. Does an incident like the one today not hurt your argument?”

At that Grayson’s brown eyes sparkled almost as if he had been looking forward to this question. “I’m very glad you have mentioned this,” he said in a very pleasant tone of voice, throwing off the Trill anchor slightly. If he had hoped to embarrass Grayson he had failed completely.

“I believe, if anything, today’s incident has proven how relevant my work really is. Take for example the way our trusted authorities have handled this unexpected situation. It is clear even now that no single agency is emerging as the one taking responsibility. Nobody within the Federation has the slightest idea how to deal with something nobody has ever expected would happen. Jaxon, the universe is a bad place. I think we have all come to realize this ever since the wars we have fought with the Romulans, the Klingons, the Borg and the Dominion. And yet our leaders “ our entire system of government “ continues unperturbed and with blissful ignorance about the dangers that our citizens could face at any time and “ as we can see now “ in virtually any place.

The unthinkable has happened, Jaxon. Innocent Federation citizens have been taken against their will and to be used as bargaining tools against their own government. On Earth nonetheless. We have traded in our safety and security for a life filled of comfort and luxury. We have become complacent and we have nobody to blame but ourselves.

The professor is correct. Nyuchiba is unlike the Federation. They have crime and they have violence but they also have people equipped to handle it. And they are very good and very efficient at what they do. These terrorist have come to seek us out because we don’t have anybody to protect us. And this, Jaxon, could only be the beginning. How many innocent lives are we willing to risk until we say enough?”
031 - "Too Many Cooks." by CeJay
031 “ “Too Many Cooks.”


Disgusted Masamune turned away from the monitor only to find that most of the computer screens in the command center displayed similar broadcasts. This was the story of the year and news organizations throughout the Federation and beyond had jumped on the bandwagon, covering the event as if the fate of the Federation depended on the outcome.

“Maybe it does,” he mumbled.

The Grazerite Starfleet ensign operating the console shot him a quizzical look but Masamune ignored him entirely and instead turned to look out of the viewports to look upon the building which had captured the attention of the galaxy.

FedPlaza had been practically sealed off both from the inside and the outside. The hostages on the 74th floor held by a gang of ruthless terrorists threatening to kill the first one in just under 40 minutes. For many of those around him the situation was almost surreal. They questioned how an act so despicable could have happened right here at the center of their utopian world.

For Masamune it was nothing he had not seen before, sadly.

“Alright people, we have to take action and we have to do it now if we want any chance of saving all of these hostages.”

Masamune turned around and sighed at what he found. Around the table sat and stood a number of different officials from various agencies. The United Earth Defense Agency was represented by General Schneider, a white-haired and soft spoken gentlemen who was not used to share authority. There was Sheriff John Payton who had been first on the scene and had assumed initial command. He was the exact opposite of Schneider, boisterous and obnoxious, he had wanted “ nay, demanded “ to be given immediate command.

But no one had relented. Not the two FedSec officers dressed in indistinct black suits, only the small Federation lapel pins identifying them as Federation agents, nor Captain Whren who had since taken the initiative and stood at the head of the table.

Whren was backed up by the fact that his Starfleet officers outnumbered anybody else on scene, the vessel they currently occupied and used as a command center was a Starfleet runabout attached to their headquarters.

Masamune found that he had been slightly too well prepared for this situation.

Whren build himself up and continued to speak over the chatter that had ensued. “We have managed to establish communications with the hostage takers, as you know the leader who has failed to identify himself has not backed down from his previously issued demands.”

“We should use additional negotiators,” Payton said, cutting off the Starfleet officer. “Continue to persuade them to give us more time and release some of the hostages.”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion, Masamune thought, but he very much doubted it would work. He had heard the terrorist leader speak. The man had shown supreme confidence in his plan, he had sounded like he had given them a rehearsed speech and at no time had he appeared to deviate from it.

“Transporters remain our best option to retrieve the hostages,” one of the FedSec agents said. “We need to further investigate a way to circumvent the transporter scrambles.”

Their first attempt had been to try to beam the hostages out of FedPlaza. It had been a nearly fatal mistake. The hostage takers had not warned them that they had installed transporter scrambles throughout the super-scraper. The rescue teams had attempted to force the issue and nearly killed a few of the hostages by scattering their molecules all across the bay area.

Whren shook his head. “There is no time for that.”

“Then we have to rely on an more old-fashioned approach,” said Schneider calmly who was one of the few who had remained in his seat.

“An assault team,” agreed the FedSec man.

Masamune got the distinct impression that Whren didn’t seem to like the idea, his antennae drooped ever so slightly. Nobody else in the room seemed to notice.

Peyton nodded sharply. “I have thirty-eight armed men ready to go. If we breach now we might be able to get there before they execute their first hostage.”

“No offense, Sheriff, but your men are glorified traffic cops,” said Schneider and the look in Peyton’s eyes made clear that he had taken offense. The general continued unconcerned. “I have ordered the mobilization of eighty-five of my best people stationed at Fort Bragg. They will arrive here in less than 20 minutes.”

“Might as well be 20 hours for all the good that will do us,” said Peyton, albeit under his breath. “If we wait any longer to take action our chances to reach the hostages in time are next to zero.”

“This discussion is pointless as neither one of you has the authority to do this,” said the FedSec agent sternly.

“Then who does?” asked Whren.

The agent produced a padd and placed it on the desk. “We do,” he said and his remarkably similar looking partner nodded in agreement. “According to Federation Code 107b and Internal Security Memorandum 2341, section 8, article 26a: ‘All Federation government installations including all installations connected to the Federation government which are not associated or under the administration of another Federation agency are to be secured and protected by Federation Security’,” he declared from memory.

“And where exactly was this protection when these lunatics took over FedPlaza?” roared Payton.

“Maybe I should ask how you allowed a group of heavily armed terrorists to enter your city undetected, Sheriff?“

“How dare you accuse me of ““

Whren interrupted the two quarreling men. “Gentlemen, there seems little point in playing the blame game now. I’m certain we will have plenty of time for that when this is all over,” he said and then turned to the man in the dark suit. “You may have jurisdiction here but how practical is this going to be? All your people on Earth will be busy protecting the government, now more so than ever. Your headquarters are all the way at Alpha Centauri, it will take hours for any of your special forces to get to Earth.”

Apparently the agent had to concede that point.

“Then we need to make do with what we have,” said Payton again. “My men might not be numerous but they are well trained and well armed.” He turned to look at the short old man who as yet had not taken part in this conversation. “Mister Masamune, you have been rather quiet. Surely you agree with me. If your people were to join forces with mine we would have substantial numbers and could strike quickly.”

Everybody turned to Masamune.

The MSD chief gripped his cane tighter and took a step towards the table. “I agree that action needs to be taken but we should not act rashly.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed we do not have the time to analyze this situation endlessly,” the FedSec agent said. “We have about 37 minutes until the first hostage will be killed.”

Masamune nodded slowly, making it clear that he understood perfectly the limited time frame. “We might have to accept certain losses in this situation,” he said calmly.

This caused much uproar amongst the assembled people who were astonished to hear such talk from the law enforcement chief. They spoke over each other, nobody listening to anyone else but everyone making their displeasure known.

Masamune used his cane to rap against the floor loudly. “Gentlemen, please,” he said and the room began to fall silent again. “It should be obvious to all of you by now that we are not dealing with common criminals here. These people have planned this act quite meticulously and have anticipated everything that has happened so far. They are also fully aware that Paris will make no decisions within an hour. Gentlemen, I propose that these terrorists fully expect us to take hasty actions such as have been proposed here.”

“Assuming you are right, what do you suggest we do?” asked General Schneider.

Masamune gave the white-haired general a nod of appreciation for his calmly formulated question. “You, as a military man should appreciate the fact that no operation should ever be carried out without as much reliable information about the situation as can be ascertained.”

Payton took the bait. “But we have no information about these people.”

“Not yet, Sheriff. But I have operatives already inside the building doing their best to change that fact.”

This caused another round of surprised interruptions.

“Are you in contact with your people?” asked the FedSec agent.

To that Masamune had to shake his head. “Not at the moment but we are trying to resolve this as well.”

“I don’t see how that changes anything then,” said Whren. Masamune couldn’t be sure but it appeared to him that the Andorian Starfleet officer didn’t appreciate that Masamune had moved into the spotlight. “In fact, to be quite honest, I’m not entirely comfortable with you being part of this operation in the first place,” said Whren with accusing eyes.

Masamune was not surprised. “And why is that, Captain?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Whren but quickly found that it was not, as everyone in the room except for him and Masamune appeared startled. “These terrorist have declared themselves to be Nyuchiban in origin. You yourself are Nyuchiban, are you not? This is a classic conflict of interest. And while I’m being blunt, I have yet to be convinced of where your allegiances lie. Are you even a Federation citizen? Is the team leader of your special forces unit?”

Masamune simply stared back at the Andorian while everybody else in the room remained quite. The chief didn’t bother to explain to this man that he had been born right here in San Francisco. He also didn’t bother to tell him that yes, he had spend a large amount of his life in the Nyuchiba Sprawl were as the senior official of the local law enforcement unit he had overseen dozens of similar hostage situations. It didn’t really matter because Masamune understood that Whren was not really after the truth. The Starfleet captain wanted him out of the picture.

In the end he did not have to defend himself however.

The Starfleet officers in the room jumped from their stations to stand at attention.

“Admiral on deck!”

Whren went rigid himself.

Selina Tessier strode purposefully into the command center. Her diminutive stature taking nothing away from her commanding presence.

Unimpressed the other men at the table hardly even acknowledged her presence. To them she was merely another Starfleet officer.

“As you were,” she said casually and the troops relaxed. “There is no need to question Mister Masamune’s loyalties. I’ve known him for many years and he is a lot of things but he certainly is not a traitor,” she said and fixed the old man with a hard stare.

Everyone in the room noticed that there was no love lost between the two but there was something more. Respect for each other, perhaps even more than that.

Whren made an effort to hide his annoyance of his superior officer undercutting his argument. He was too loyal to show such blatant disrespect.

Masamune did not appreciate the gesture either. He did not need anyone to come to his rescue.

The admiral walked up to the viewport and then turned to face the entire room. “Actions need to be taken,” she said and gestured towards the screens to her side which were still showing the uninterrupted coverage of the unfolding crisis. “The galaxy has its eyes upon us and we will not send a message of complacency and inaction. Make no mistake. Today the Federation has been attacked and as such we will respond. It will be made unmistakably clear that we will not tolerate terrorism on our soil.”

“Starfleet is not in charge here,” the FedSec agent protested.

Tessier smiled at the man but there was nothing sweet about it. “We’ll see about that.”
032 - "A Little Bit of Resistance." by CeJay
032 “ “A Little Bit of Resistance.”


Gavin wondered why the two tanks hadn’t opened fire yet.

Perhaps they wanted to get in as close as possible to make sure their strikes would be dead on target this time around. Or maybe they were sent to apprehend the two interlopers, possibly take them prisoner. Maybe the person controlling them“if they were being controlled“had a perverse pleasure in delaying the inevitable for as long as possible.

The only thing that was certain was the two tanks were still approaching and had not yet fired.

Both Gavin and Mech had emptied their clips onto the approaching death machines without so much as slowing them down.

For the first time Gavin became painfully aware of the limitations of projectile weapons. They tended to run out of ammunition. His old Fletcher or a Starfleet issue phaser wouldn’t have had the same problem. But if duranium bullets hadn’t stopped these things he very much doubted a phaser could have.

“Mech?”

“Yes.”

They remained facing their approaching doom, their useless weapons held out in front of them.

“Any ideas?”

“Not yet.”

The tanks stopped simultaneously, no 20 feet away, their firing barrels apparently adjusting to their targets.

“Now would be a good time.”

And then Gavin heard a roar somewhere above them. It sounded familiar. Apparently the AI tanks had auditory sensors as both of their turrets re-adjusted to find the source of the sound and establish if it was a threat.

Gavin looked up and saw the bright white moon through the skylight some 35 feet above his head. The moon disappeared as something moved in to block it out. He recognized it. “Hot Rod!”

The SAFVe descended and crashed the skylight.

Shards of razor sharp transparent aluminum rained down below.

Mech pushed Gavin down and he could feel her weight on top of him. Small and large shards landed all around him, a particularly nasty looking one landed with such force that the sharp end lodged itself into the ground no two inches from his nose.

Gavin exhaled noticeably.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Mech pulled him up onto his feet and pushed something into his hand.

“Hold on.”

He did but realized what it was only after he had been yanked clean off the ground. It was a rope, dropped from the SAFVe above. While he was on the floor Mech had slipped the loop at the end of the rope under his right food and now he was being lifted upwards effortlessly.

Mech was close to his side, holding on to a similar wire.

He looked down and instantly wished he hadn’t done so. The tanks opened fire, bright and angrily pulsating blue energy discharges were shooting towards them.

Gavin felt immense heat on his skin and he would later find out that some of his hair had been singed away. The blast ripped open a gaping hole into the ceiling somewhere behind him. They had missed.

Then they were clear of the warehouse and under dark, wide-open skies. Not a few moments later Mech climbed onto the loading deck of the SAFVe and pulled Gavin inside as well. He collapsed on the deck exhausted.

“You guys alright?” asked Hot Rod, looking back from the cockpit.

“I think so,” said Gavin in-between heavily labored breaths.

“Good,” she said and turned back to her instruments. “Because I just seriously scratched up the paint job on this baby. I’m never going to live this down with maintenance.”

Gavin couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing.

Mech smiled as she removed large shards of transparent aluminum from her back and legs. “I’m glad you had fun too,” she said and threw the pieces casually out of the open door.

Gavin stood up slowly watching her injured body. There wasn’t a single drop of blood even as some of the shards had lodged themselves deep into her. Her face didn’t show any sign of pain.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

She nodded. “Flesh wounds,” she said with a smirk and walked towards the cockpit to take a seat next to Hot Rod.

Once Gavin was sure his feet wouldn’t give in under him he followed her, still somewhat shook up by his near death experience. He wanted to thank Mech for shielding him earlier but she had not given him the opportunity.

“It looks like you’re not the only ones to run into trouble tonight,” said Hot Rod after Mech had taken the co-pilot seat. “We’ve got a crisis over in the city. The entire galaxy is already talking about it.”

“What happened?” asked Gavin who took up position between the two women.

“Nyuchiban terrorists have taken hostages at FedPlaza. The old man wants you back there asap,” she explained even while she steered the SAFVe northbound again.

“Hostages?” repeated Gavin with disbelieve. He had never heard of hostages being taken in San Francisco or anywhere else on Earth for that matter. At least not in his lifetime. He immediately checked the newsfeeds and sure enough, they were all talking about the same thing. “Incredible.”

< Chief, Mech here. What’s your situation? >

Masamune replied almost instantly. < Good to hear from you. Where have you been? >

< Gavin and I followed up a lead outside the city. We ran into a little bit of resistance. >

Yeah, right. Just a little bit, thought Gavin who was listening in. Don’t make it a big deal, we only almost got incinerated.

< Your report will have to wait, > said Masamune. < A group of terrorist who have identified themselves as members of the so-called Freedom for Nyuchiba Society have taken 58 hostages at Federation Plaza and are demanding immediate withdrawal of all Federation personnel from Nyuchiban space. They are threatening to kill one hostage every hour until these demands have been met. The first one is to be executed within the next 20 minutes. >

< This is insane, > said Gavin. < Nobody is going to make anything happened within the next few minutes. >

< Slade and Tank are inside the building but we have lost contact with them some time ago, > continued Masamune.

Gavin didn’t like the sound of that. But he trusted Tank and Slade. If they were already inside there was a good chance that they would be able to foil the terrorists’ plans before they had a chance to make good on their threat. After all who in their right mind would dare to go up against Tank?

< What’s the plan, chief? > Gavin asked.

< Sadly we are still squabbling over jurisdiction here. Tessier seems determined to call the shots on this one. >

< Chief, I’ve got a bad feeling about this, >
said Mech. < I’ve come across a computer terminal which we have good reason to believe is linked to Grayson and possibly Whren. I found detailed floor plans there. I could be mistaken but I think they were for FedPlaza. >

That was news to Gavin. < Hold on, are you saying Starfleet might be involved in this? >

< We can’t rule it out, >
she said.

< What about the tri-cobalt residue? >
asked Gavin.

Mech nodded. < If we take this theory to its logical conclusion I’d say that the tri-cobalt residue we found might have been from a bomb to be used at FedPlaza. >

< And Starfleet is getting ready to storm the building. If you are right, it might be wired to detonate when that happens, > concluded the chief.

< That doesn’t make any sense, >
said Gavin. < If Starfleet is behind this then wouldn't they know about the bomb? Why would they still want to raid the building? >

Masamune didn’t have an answer to this. < I don’t know. But we have to find a way to disable the bomb if that’s what we are dealing with here. Bobby and Eldex are trying to work on a way to re-establish contact with our people inside FedPlaza. I want you to head back to the civic center and pick up a strike team. In the meantime I’ll try to delay Starfleet from carrying out their planned assault. >

< That sounds like a good plan but no way are we going to get there within 20 minutes. What about the first hostage? >
said Gavin.

< There is little we can do for them. We have to hope that Tank and Slade will come up with something. >
033 - "It's A Long Way Down." by CeJay
033 “ “It’s A Long Way Down.”


Tank couldn’t remember ever having been more uncomfortable than during his trip through the restrictive maintenance hatch. It took him a good ten minutes to navigate the crawl ways and he felt immense relief when he emerged in a similar washroom he had departed from, presumably on the next floor.

He momentarily considered going back to get Kara and Jack but he dreaded having to use the shaft again. Besides, there wasn’t much time. He had to get to the roof.

He found the floor layout simple enough with large signs directing him towards the main exit. Using the elevators would have been his first choice as it would have allowed him to reach the roof quickly. But he had to believe that if these people were professional enough to jam his communications than they probably could also monitor the elevators.

The safer bet was the staircase and tackling the remaining 73 floors on foot. Compared to his agonizing experience in the maintenance shaft this would be a breeze. The only problem was time. The terrorists had it, he did not.

Fully cognizant of his main handicap he still paused when he reached the doors that led into the staircase. His sensitive hearing had registered soft noise coming from behind the door. It was quite possible the terrorists had posted sentries in the stairs but rather unlikely that they were covering all floors.

Tank couldn’t afford to find another way. He reached for his weapon and slowly opened the door. He pushed it open a few inches but could find nothing behind it. Then with one swift push he opened it all the way, instantly bringing his Super Seven to bear on whoever he would find.

Somebody had been waiting for him.

He could feel the cold metal of a gun barrel pushing into the back of his neck.

“Bastard,” Tank mumbled. Somebody had been hiding right next to the door in the staircase, patiently waiting for him to make the first move. Now he had him dead to rights and for all his large build and strength, Tank knew that he could not survive a point blank shot to his neck, no matter the weapon.

“Your impulsiveness is going to get you killed one of these days.”

Angrily Tank whipped around. Truth be told he was ecstatic to find that it was Slade and not one of the terrorists. He had not particularly enjoyed the prospect of going out by being shot in the back thanks to his own foolishness. Of course he would hide those feelings well in front of his anal retentive colleague. “You damned bastard,” he said but kept his voice down, after all the real terrorist were just a floor below. “What the hell are you trying to do?”

Slade secured his weapon. “I had no way of knowing it was you,” Slade shot back, equally upset now. His face was covered with a film of sweat and for the first time Tank noticed that he was clearly out of breath. He must have climbed the stairs from the ground floor in record time.

“Why’d you come up here anyway?” asked Tank, normalizing his voice. “You should have tried to get help.”

“Not an option. Whoever these people are, they sealed off all exits before I had a chance to get out. Comms are down as well. What do you know about the situation?”

Slade had gone back in full team leader mode but Tank didn’t care at the moment. Technically Slade still outranked him in CCiD even after his recent demotion and the former Marine was a man born to give orders.

“Nyuchiban terrorist. They’ve taken the FNTA members hostage and already made demands. I don’t know what they are but they have moved some of the hostages to the roof.”

Slade glanced upwards. There were nearly as many steps left going up then going down. He didn’t like the prospect of climbing them as well. He knew he had no choice. “If they want to kill any of the hostages the most dramatic way to do that would be from the roof.”

Tank nodded.

“Let’s go.”

But before Slade could take a single step Tank put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “No offense, but you look awful. I’ll go ahead and you catch up with me as soon as you can.”

Slade apparently didn’t like this. “You can’t take them by yourself.”

A glint in Tank’s eyes said otherwise. “We don’t have time to argue. If you can keep up fine but I’m going full speed,” he said and moved out before Jackson Slade could protest again.

Slade watched the massive man practically leaping up the first flight in one jump and immediately knew that there was no keeping up with him.

Tank for his part gave no second thought to Slade as he rushed up the staircase. He had wasted enough time and could ill afford for anything or anyone to slow him down further. If he ran into a terrorist sentry he would have to overwhelm them quickly. He was looking forward to the opportunity.

The mini-servos in his cybernetic legs moved him upwards faster and allowed him to jump higher than most other people could. He reached the end of the staircase in just under three minutes, smirking at the idea that it probably had taken Slade six times longer to get to the 75th floor.

The last door he found was computer controlled and sealed without any means to open it. He slipped his fingers inside the door panels “ not an easy task as his fingers were rather thick “ and pushed the two parts open easily. They had not been designed to keep out the likes of Tank.

Behind it he found a maze of maintenance corridors and pipe work forming part of the environmental systems. The lights here were dim, allowing for too many shadows. But Tank doubted the terrorist were hiding, after all they had no reason to assume somebody else was still in the building. There had been no attack from the outside as far as he could tell and transporters clearly didn’t work, otherwise the hostages would have been beamed to safety a long time ago.

The sting of embarrassment of being caught off-guard by Slade still nagging at his pride he was determined not to make the same mistake again. So he sacrificed expediency for caution as he moved slowly through the maintenance labyrinth, trying to find the roof exit.

He swept each intersecting corridor carefully, always keeping his gun in front of him, ready to fire without a moment’s notice.

A steady draft alerted him to the right direction. Soon after he found the lift and an open access door to the roof. He listened closely and was sure he could hear gentle sobs somewhere beyond the door, nearly drowned out by the sound of clunky equipment bouncing in the wind.

He approached quietly and pushed his back against the wall next to the roof access. Tank spied around the corner and saw a heavily armed man standing with his back to him, guarding the door. Just a few meter beyond cowered four of the hostages, two men and two women. They had some cuts and bruises but nothing serious. Some may have tried to put up a fight.

He could see no other terrorists but that most certainly didn’t mean that there weren’t more of them around. He chastised himself for not having asked Jack “ or Oshii, or whatever “ how many terrorists exactly had boarded the elevator.

Tank decided to strike. The opportunity was not perfect but if he waited too long he would run the risk of one of his opponents coming up from behind him.

He secured his gun and slipped behind the man guarding the roof access and used his huge arm to put him into a choke hold. If he cut the man’s air supply off for a few seconds it would be enough to render him unconscious. A tactic Tank was very familiar with and had plenty of practice with.

It didn’t work.

The man struggled wordlessly and refused to go down. Tank was getting annoyed. He let the man go, ripped the rifle out of his hand and smashed him across the face with it. He felt backwards, against the wall and sagged down to the floor.

Satisfied Tank went into a crouch and slowly back paddled into the door frame. The knocked out terrorist lay motionless at his side. He didn’t give him another look. Instead he fumbled for the power cell of what looked like a plasma rifle, removed it and placed the weapon on the ground while slipping the energy cell into a pocket. Then he reached for his Seburo again and slowly took in his surroundings.

The hostages had spotted him now and some of them were beginning to stand, surprised by the appearance of their savior and prompted into movement by their own fear.

Tank motioned them to stop and stay where they were. They complied hesitantly.

The MSD officer pointed at the incapacitated man at his side.

One of the hostages seemed to understand. He held up two fingers.

Tank nodded and then forked his own fingers and pointed towards his eyes.

The man shook his head, he didn’t know where the other terrorist was.

Wherever he was hiding, Tank knew that it was very likely he had heard him take out his friend. His subtle approach in taking out his opponent had not worked and the second attempt had been a lot nosier. But Tank had no choice, he had to get into the open and get those hostages out of there.

He stepped out slowly, keeping his gun trained on the many empty and concealed spaces on the large roof were somebody could be hiding. There were a number of maintenance buildings, environmental and power units as well as a dozen spires, reaching further into the skies. Stairs led down onto lower levels of the roof and one staircase led up to a shuttle landing platform.

“Ok, we’re going to get you out of here,” he said quietly as he approached the hostages, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. “I need you to remain calm and do exactly as I ““

He saw the sudden glimmer of bright angry energy a split second too late. He tried to push himself to the ground but the plasma burst still struck his right arm.

The hostages screamed.

Tank didn’t. He fell painfully to the ground and the sensors which doubled as nerves in his cybernetic arm informed his brain of massive damage. Thankfully his enhancers shut off those sensors immediately before his brain could interpret those signals as agonizing pain.

“Get back, get back,” he yelled to the hostages even while he was still lying on his back in the open. “Get behind cover,” he said and indicated towards a large cooling unit which would shield them from the sniper.

They did as they were told.

Tank’s left arm was useless as half of the upper part had been ripped open, revealing the intricate and now catastrophically damaged circuitry. But his left arm, the one which he used to fire his gun was undamaged. He lifted it and fired a few rounds into the general direction of the sniper.

He had taken position on top of the landing platform but Tank’s heads-up display was unable to locate him. Still the shots were enough to keep him from firing a second time while Tank threw himself behind a thick utility pipe for cover.

The second blast came quicker than he had anticipated and ripped a large hole into the pipe, releasing a stream of superheated gas. Tank fired again, the thick white gas helping to mask him, but again his target kept out of sight.

The gas was beginning to heat the air around him and Tank had to move. He did so quickly, running alongside the pipe until he was out of the sniper’s viewing angle. He leaped onto a ledge halfway up the back of a maintenance shed and then pushed himself off to jump even higher.

The platform came back into view and he noticed the thick pipe running alongside it. He fired where he believed the sniper was hiding even while he glided through the air. The gas and the duranium bullets didn’t mix well and the resulting explosion forced the sniper away from her hiding spot and into the open.

Tank landed on his feet, his heads-up display now locked in on his exposed target. He fired two rounds which were dead on target. The woman sniper refused to go down, instead she was pushed backwards by the force of the impact.

He had no time to wonder why the bullets hadn’t downed the woman. She was bringing her plasma rifle up to fire at the equally exposed Tank. He doubted that he could survive taking a hit square into his chest.

So he fired again, three, four, five times, pushing her backwards still. The sixth bullet put her over the edge of the platform and she fell. Tank noticed she didn’t scream, not even when she hit a ledge head first. She bounced slightly and then fell further and onto a lower roof level some twenty meters below.

Tank had to assume she was dead.

He had no time to confirm the kill. A high-pitched scream made him turn his head. A third terrorist had appeared where the hostages had been hiding.

Tank cursed himself. He had misinterpreted the signal earlier. The man had meant to say that there were two more terrorists not two in total as he had assumed.

The man who looked surprisingly similar to the first terrorist he had taken down had reached for the hostage who had signaled him earlier and was pushing him towards the edge of the roof. The other hostages had wisely moved away, nobody quite bold enough to attempt and save their colleague.

Tank dropped from the shed he stood on and landed in a crouch on the floor, his gun always leveled at the terrorist. He did not have a clear shot however. The hostage was being used as an effective shield.

“Let him go. The game’s over, your two pals are out cold,” said Tank but held little hope that his words would yield results. These terrorists were surprisingly disciplined.

“Please, help me,” the man whimpered.

Tank slowly approached the duo even while they continued backwards and towards the edge of the roof. “Let him go,” Tank repeated.

But the terrorist didn’t talk. He didn’t say anything, wasn’t even bargaining as Tank had expected. He hadn’t asked for him to stop or even to lower his weapon.

Tank realized that this guy had no interest in self-preservation. He was going to carry out the one and only objective he had.

Tank moved in. “Get down,” he shouted at the scared man.

But before the hostage could even think of complying he was flung aside.

Tank fired two bullets into the terrorist’s head the moment he had revealed himself. The man went down into a heap but not before the hostage had been tossed into the air and towards the ledge.

Tank jumped, willing his legs to push him further and higher than they had ever been designed to. Both of them went over the edge and landed on a flat, steeply slanted glass surface and slid downwards. Tank let go of his gun and reached out with his good arm. His heavier body sliding along faster than that of the man he was trying to save. Another second or two and he would be able to hold on to him.

There were mere inches between them now.

And then another thought pushed into his mind. He had only one working arm and he needed it to hold on to the hostage. How would he stop from sliding over the edge? There was no purchase to be had anywhere.

He decided to worry about that after he had his man.

He reached out once more, straining his arm as far as it would go and grabbed hold of his jacket. He tried to bring him closer by pulling his arm back when the fabric of the jacket tore and he was left with nothing but a few shreds of clothing.

The glass roof gave away abruptly and the man went over.

With uninhibited anger at his own failure Tank smashed his fist into the glass, inadvertently also saving his own life as his hand found a frame and held on, stopping his forward momentum inches from the ledge.

The agonizing scream of the man falling to his death was a sound Tank would not soon forget.
034 - "The Buck Stops Here." by CeJay
Author's Notes:
PART THREE
034 “ “The Buck Stops Here.”


“The following footage is disturbing and we strongly advise that young children and persons sensitive to violent material do not watch it.

Just minutes ago at 2205 Federation Standard Time the hostage takers at Fed Plaza in San Francisco made good on their threat and executed their first hostage. We have obtained the following dramatic footage.”

The newscasters disappeared from the screen to show the now well-lit exterior of the Federation Plaza super-scraper, the image focused on the 74th floor. A small caption at the bottom of screen gave proof that this had happened less than two minutes ago.

The voice of Silvia Sanchez could be heard speaking softly off screen. “If we try to get into one of these buildings over there we might get a better shot at ““

Screams interrupted her and the image quickly jerked upwards, focusing in on the roof of Fed Plaza where an object appeared to have come over the edge and now tumbled towards the ground in a free fall.

“Are you getting this?” asked Sanchez. “What is it?” And then she and everyone else realized for the first time what they were looking at. “My God,” she croaked, her voice failing her now.

But the image stayed with the falling man, his own scream now louder and more terrifying that those of the excited crowd of spectators.

Then, just as it became clear what the inevitable outcome had to be, the entire crowd fell silent as the hostage's last moments of life rapidly approached.

Moments before the camera would have captured the deadly impact the image blanked out.

Seconds later a visibly shaken up Silvia Sanchez appeared. A new caption made clear that this footage was coming live from San Francisco. “We can now confirm that one of the hostages has been killed by falling to his death from the top of Fed Plaza. At this time there is no way to know for certain if the man was pushed or if it was an accident. But the timing of the incident seems to be … it appears consistent …” she hesitated momentarily, clearly still shaken from having witnessed a persons’ death just moments before. “It seems consistent with the statement released by the terrorists earlier that one hostage would be killed every hour until their demands have been met.”

“Has the identity of the victim been confirmed?” asked the Trill newscaster, now visible in a little inset image.

“No, we do not know the identity of the victim but judging from the brief glimpse of what we’ve just seen, Jaxon, I think it is safe to say it was one of the hostages.”

“We’ve all seen the disturbing images and I can only imagine how horrific it must have been to witness that take place right in front of you. But was there nothing that could have been done to save that man?”

“I cannot say at this point, Jaxon. There was much activity here among the authorities and rescue workers when the incident took place mere moments ago and in fact there still is,” she said and the image shifted away to show a scurry of first responders, peace officers, military and Starfleet officers as well as members of other organizations. The general area in which the hostage would have collided with the ground was not blocked off from view by half a dozen emergency vehicles. Any rescue attempts at this point had to be about retrieving the body however.

“What I can tell you at this juncture and what you might have observed,” Sanchez continued over the images of busy rescue personnel, “is that there appeared to be no attempt to beam the hostages away and to safety during the fall, something that under normal circumstances should have been an easy way to save his life. This is leading me to believe that transporters cannot be used to attempt to rescue any of the hostages. If that is true, it would make this situation a lot more serious ““

The sound of the broadcast went silent after Sill had activated the muting controls. “I believe the situation qualifies as very serious already. A person was just killed on a live newsfeed on Earth in front of a billions viewers.”

“Mister President, please accept my government’s and my personal condolences as well as my deepest sympathies,” said Ambassador Fujiwara who was the only other person in the president’s office. “This is an despicable and unacceptable crime.”

President Kentii’la, sitting in his chair, was still watching the silent images on the screen as if he had been unable to believe what had just happened. At the moment he was nothing more than one of the billion stunned viewers who had just watched the unthinkable happen.

“I will of course issue a public statement as soon as possible to denounce these acts and proclaim that the Nyuchiban Confederacy is outraged by the actions of these criminals and in complete support of the people of the Federation. If I may be so humble as to suggest a joint press conference to show our support.”

“I think it would be a bit soon for that at this stage. This is a tragedy we barely know anything about. We haven’t even seen our own response to it yet,” said the president’s Bolian advisor.

“You must take a strong stance against acts of terrorism as quickly as possible,” the ambassador said. “The media will use this occasion to endlessly probe and question your administration and your willingness to take action in face of such heinous acts.”

Sill seemed to take offense by that. “With all due respects, Mister Ambassador, but our media does not work like yours. They are not sensationalists who are solely interested in their ratings.”

“Perhaps that is because they never had spectacular news to report, Mister Sill. Our people are not as different as you might think. The nikkeijin are mostly human as you know and all that divide us, is merely philosophical. But now is the time to show our true unity, just as when we fought side by side during the War.”

Sill knew immediately what the ambassador was after. Fujiwara was still a politician and as such he was not beneath exploiting a tragedy for his own agenda.

The president apparently realized this too. “Mister Ambassador,” he said in his usual slow speech. “We are most grateful for your support and sympathy and will give your request all due consideration. In the meantime there is much I need to do as should be obvious given our current situation. We will contact you once we have made a decision.”

The short nikkeijin bowed slightly. “I will use that time to liaise with my government. Thank you, Mister President,” he said and then hastily left the office.

No sooner had he left did the voice of the president’s chief receptionist fill the office. “Mister President, I have Admiral Selina Tessier for you on a priority channel. Would you like to take the call?”

“Yes, please put her through.”

Sill stepped closer to the desk, apparently very much interested himself what she had to say about this situation.

“Thank you for taking my call, Mister President,” said he admiral.

“Admiral, what is your situation? We have just witnessed a person killed on a newsfeed watched by billions of Federation citizens. Your people are on scene, how could they not have prevented this?” said Sill, jumping into the conversation without preamble.

“Mister Sill, the situation here on the ground is as bit more complicated than the newsfeeds make it out. I assure you we have attempted everything within our power to try and save that man.”

“Obviously that was not enough,” Sill shot back.

This apparently left Tessier momentarily speechless.

The president raised his hand to let his advisor know to back off. “Admiral, do you have any plans underway to end this crisis before anymore hostages might come to harm?”

To her credit Tessier didn’t hesitate, keeping her voice free off annoyance when speaking to Kentii’la directly. “Sir, we have a plan in place which we could implement immediately and which I believe will resolve this hostage situation quickly and successfully with a minimal loss of additional lives. However the longer we delay, the slimmer the chance of success.”

“I don’t understand,” said Sill and gave the president a puzzled look. “What is keeping you from implementing your plan?”

“The issue of jurisdiction is not entirely clear. We have various agencies on scene each convinced that they are in charge. Sir, I’ll be honest, I have not had the time to look through all the laws and regulations on this subject but I can tell you that nobody else has the resources in place right now to bring an end to this crisis except for Starfleet. If we were to wait until all issues of jurisdiction have been resolved it might be too late for those hostages.”

“Admiral,” the president said, “what do you need me to do for you take immediate action?”

Tessier hesitated for just a second. “I would need an executive order to give me the authority to take overall situational command.”

“Consider the order given.”

There was another slight pause. “In writing,” she said and then hastily added. “Sir.”

The president allowed himself a rare smirk after he realized that even Tessier had a little bit of a politician inside of her. She wanted this crisis resolved as much as everybody else but she knew how to cover herself. “Understood, Admiral. Be ready to implement your plan at a moment’s notice. You will have the order within minutes.”

“Thank You, Mister President.”

Sill terminated the link.

“Sir, I am a little bit concerned about this order. This administration has never issued an executive order before. Certainly not in a domestic situation. The people might see this as an overly authoritarian and overreaching move on our behalf.”

“This is an unprecedented crisis. The people will understand the need for swift action from their president,” he said. “But you are right, we need to address this issue in a clear manner. I want you to draft a public statement. Also contact your friends at the UE General Assembly to make them aware of our actions.”

Sill nodded.

“But first ensure that the admiral gets her order as quickly as possible. I’m not willing to risk more casualties due to the ineptitude of our bureaucracy.”

“I will get on that right away. What about the ambassador’s request?”

The president shook his head. “We do not have time for gestures and political subtleties right now. The ambassador is sadly mistaken if he thinks that Federation-Nyuchiban relations are a priority at this time.”
035 - "Gotta Go Up In Order To Go Down." by CeJay
035 “ “Gotta Go Up In Order To Go Down.“


“We’re approaching Civic Center. Sly has assembled a strike team which will board as soon as we touch down,” said Hot Rod as she steered the SAFVe towards the brightly lit landing platform on top of MSD headquarters.

Gavin was focusing on Fed Plaza a few dozen blocks away. The massive tower was easy to spot any time of day but was practically unmissable now, as it was lit up by a plethora of bright spotlights, making the building the unquestionable focus of the city. The entire Federation tonight, I bet. Thought Gavin.

Mech looked over the team as they prepared to land. Including Sylvester Martinez, there were ten of them, most of which Mech realized she hadn’t even had time to be introduced to yet. They all wore black tactical vests and matching outfits and were armed with the new Seburo handguns strapped to their backs as well as the more powerful yet less reliable assault rifles.

She understood that for many of them, this would be the first time that they were tested in such a manner, executing a rapid and precise tactical strike against a presumably well-armed enemy holding a large number of hostages. Mech knew that they had trained for these kind of situations, and they had done a halfway decent job when they had assaulted the factory on Treasure Island, but Fed Plaza was an entirely different kind of playground with the stakes were much higher.

Mech stepped next to Gavin who still had his eyes on the brightly lit tower which was going to be their ultimate destination. “Are you ready?” she asked.

The young man gave her a surprised look. “Yeah, sure.”

She shot him a small smile, letting him know that she knew otherwise.

“A bit nervous, I suppose.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“So I take it you’ve done these kind of things before,” he said.

She nodded.

“Good. Means you know what you’re doing.”

The SAFVe touched down on the landing pad and Sylvester and the rest of the team promptly boarded the vessel.

“We’re still going in there pretty much blind. We have people on the inside but no way of communicating with them. We have no idea how many terrorists we’re dealing with or what kind of weapons they have. We also have to assume the entire building might be wired to be blown to hell and we don’t know on what kind of timetable these guys are operating on.”

The rookie CCiD agent gave her a blank stare.

“Other than that,” she said and gave him that sweet smile again. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“If I may say so,” he said. “You make a for a great team leader but you really need to work on your inspirational speechmaking.”

Hot Rod had the SAFVe back in the air in less than a minute, the time it took the rest of the team to board, and she was already steering the shuttle towards the part of town in which the Federation tower stood.

Mech shrugged her shoulders. “Never been good at speeches,” she said. “But listen. You did fine at Grayson’s compound. Just stick close to me, follow my orders and you will be alright.”

Gavin gave him a sharp nod. And then before she could turn away he asked. “Are you nervous about this?”

She thought about that for just a moment, as if trying to consider the right response first. Then she nodded. “Doesn’t work any other way.”

He smiled at that. Gavin wasn’t sure what he had hoped to hear from their seemingly fearless and capable leader. Perhaps he had wanted reassurance that this was just another Thursday night for her. That she had done these kinds of things a thousand times before and that it was nothing more than routine by now. That she was somehow super-human which after all wasn’t a far-fetched notion after he’d had a chance to observe her in action over the last couple of days. And yet her admission that she still retained part of her flawed humanity was a surprising comfort to him now. No, she didn’t give good speeches, but she inspired confidence nevertheless.

“We may have a problem here,” said Hot Rod from the cockpit.

Mech and Gavin exchanged one last look and then moved to the front of the shuttle to find out what Rodgers had been concerned about.

The Jamaican pilot pointed at the gleaming white shuttles which appeared to hover around Fed Plaza. “Looks like Starfleet has sealed off the airspace around our target,” she said.

“It’s a prudent call,” said Gavin. “But how do we get there. Starfleet isn’t exactly our biggest fan judging from our last encounters.”

< Sir, we have a problem with Starfleet. Any chance you could work something on your end? > said Mech through her internal comm.-unit.

Masmune responded immediately. < Doesn’t look good. Tessier has all but taken command over here and from the looks of it she’s secured a presidential order to give her full jurisdiction. So far she has resisted any notion to accept our assistance. >

< Chief, > said Gavin who could easily listen in to the conversation through his own enhancer. < Do you want us to abort to wait and see what Starfleet does? >

< I don’t think we can afford to wait. If you are right and there really is a bomb in the building than we might have a lot less time than we have been led to believe. Also, it looks as if the terrorists have just made good on their threat and killed one hostage by throwing him off the roof. So you tell me now: Can you get in there, free the remaining hostages and prevent Fed Plaza being turned into rubble or not? >

Gavin as well as Hot Rod and Sylvester who had joined the others by the cockpit turned their full attention towards Mech. The LT for her part didn’t need long to think about that question. < If we can get into that building, we can do it, > she said and looked at their pilot.

“It’s all on me then, huh?” she said. “Way to put pressure on a girl.” She turned to her instruments, pressed a few panels and then looked out of the windshield to take in the scene before them. After a few more moments she nodded. “Yeah, I can get around’em but it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“What does that mean?” Gavin wanted to know.

Hot Rod just smiled, revealing two rows of pearly whites.

< Chief, we are ready to roll on our end, > Mech said, apparently not requiring and further explanation.

< Then go. And Mech. No solo heroics on this one. Get in there, get those hostages and get out. If you find that bomb, try to stop it but the hostages are your primary objective. Understood? >

< Understood, > she said and then terminated the link, full well knowing that once they approached Fed Plaza they would no longer be able to communicate. Then she turned to the pilot. “Hot Rod, do your thing.”

The woman had a gleam in her eye when she gave her response with a nod. “You got it, LT. Everybody find something to hang on to. And try to hold your dinner, ladies and gents. I just had this thing cleaned.”

“What?” asked Gavin confused.

But Hot Rod had already engaged the vessel’s main thrusters, catapulting it to speeds multiple times the speed of sound within seconds.

Gavin hung on to dear life as he felt the relentless g-forces trying to turn his insides into mush. That’s what it must feel like to travel at warp speed without inertial dampers, he thought.

And just as he thought the worst was behind them, Hot Rod angled the shuttle upwards at a steep angle, adding gravity to the mix as hey rapidly climbed into the moonlit San Francisco night sky.

“I … I don’t understand,” Gavin managed to say. “Where are … we going?” his voice was like a stutter to his own ears.

Mech seemed to know the answer. “With the airspace closed off, there is only one way to approach Fed Plaza.”

Gavin peeked out of a window, realizing that they had climbed hundreds of meters in just a few seconds. “Uh Hot Rod, you do realize that the SA in SAFVe stands for sub-atmospheric, right?”

“Chillax, brother, we’ll only be up here for a moment or so. Air will be bit tight and you might feel a little weightless. Just hold on and enjoy the stars.”

No sooner had Hot Rod spoken, did Gavin feel gravity lose its hold and his feet lift off from the deck plate. “Woah,” he exclaimed in surprise. Like most humans, Gavin had been to space plenty of times but thanks to artificial gravity, he had never had never experienced zero-g conditions before and for a moment he panicked.

Then he saw the LT’s face and found a huge, almost child-like grin on her face. She was loving this. And to underscore the point, she pushed herself off completely and performed a quick mid-air roll. She made it look easy too and Gavin couldn’t help but smirk at her unexpected playfulness. He was however not quite bold enough to try and follow her example. Instead he held on tightly to a handhold to keep himself in place.

“Okay, if you thought going up was tough. Brace yourselves for the going down part,” said Hot Rod.

The nose of the SAFVe turned downwards and the main thrusters kicked back in, catapulting them back towards the surface.

Gavin’s stomach lurched, ready to familiarize him with his last meal. Along with the rest of the team, he was pushed so hard against the bulkhead, he could barely move a muscle and for as he watched the City at the Bay, racing up to greet them at breakneck speeds, he was certain beyond a shadow of doubt, that they would smash into the ground with such force, it would leave a crater the size of the moon.

He remained mistaken and just moments after this insane journey had begun, Hot Rod leveled the shuttle off and Gavin realized that they were coming to hover just a hundred feet or so above Fed Plaza.

“Everybody still in one piece?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I’ll ask my brain once it has dislodged itself from my toes,” said Gavin and needed a few deep breaths to compose himself again.

Hot Rod laughed. “You better get ready. We may have been able to circumvent the Starfleet blockade but they’re not blind. They’ll know we’re here in a few moments.”

Mech nodded and quickly strapped on her tactical vest and reached for a spare TJ-7 rifle. “Put us about fifty feet over the roof and we’ll drop down. Once we’re in we won’t be able to communicate but we’ll need you to come back to evacuate the hostages.”

Hot Rod nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll have to play hide-n’-seek with Starfleet for a while. Just tell me where and when you need me and I’ll be there.”

“Stay on overwatch until we are inside. Then give us thirty minutes and get to 74th floor on the west side the building.”

“I’ll be there.”

The LT turned towards her assault team. “Alright folks, strap in and get ready to drop. Assume there are hostiles on the roof and fire on sight.”
036 - "The Most Dangerous Animal In The World Is A Politician." by CeJay
036 “ “The Most Dangerous Animal In The World Is A Politician.“


“I wish to re-assure the good citizens of the Federation that the Nyuchiban Confederacy is appalled and disgusted by these heinous acts perpetrated by this so-called Freedom for Nyuchiba Society.”

Ambassador Fujiwara paused for a moment, looking for all intends and purposes like a man who had meant every word he had said by showing the appropriate amount of outrage and indignation. For a moment he let his gaze wander across the room, filled with two dozen or more representatives from various Federation press agencies and a few more from foreign outlets, all of which recording every image and every word, streaming them live to billions of people all over the galaxy.

“Regretfully we have been aware of this terrorists organization for some time and knew that they have been active mostly within areas of the outer fringes of the Confederacy. They do not enjoy support from the vast majority of nikkeijin who are firm believes, as am I and my government, in peaceful relations with our Federation neighbors. We are humans with a strong and shared history with the people of this world. And while we have chosen a different path for ourselves many generations ago, we will never forget and always treasure our roots which are firmly planted here on Earth. We see the people of Earth as our brethren and I genuinely hope that they see us in a similar manner.

A small minority of people in Nyuchiba have been misguided and deluded by hateful and narrow-minded factions who would like to see the Confederacy turn away from not just our dear brothers and sisters on Earth but from all the Federation and foreign influences. These people do not understand that our cherished world, our very way of life, would never have been possible without our strong bond with Earth and the Federation.

In fact it would be safe to state that the Federation and the Confederacy depend on each other for the continuous well-being of both our peoples. We share the same resources and enjoy the fruits of our joint labors. We are, very much an interconnected people. As one of our societies prospers, so does the other. If one suffers, so does the other.”

The ambassador chose that moment to pause again, letting his words sink in to the many reporters and by extension the great many people watching his speech. He wanted their entire attention before he would shift to his next and most important message, one he needed every Federation citizen to understand and support. Much more than his political career would be on the line if he failed in that vital task.

“It is with great sadness that I stand here today to talk to you. I am saddened because my society suffers. As you well know, and now have painfully been reminded only recently due to the cowardly attacks by the terrorists in San Francisco, Nyuchiba is at war with those few but destructive elements in our society who wish to isolate us from the rest of the galaxy and thereby bring suffering not just on ourselves but on the Federation as well.

I speak of course of the insurgency on Asuka III which has since gripped the entire planet in a wave of senseless violence and murder. Even as I speak, hundreds are being killed by powerful families whose only interest is to reaffirm their unjust and brutal rule. And for those who believe that this war is merely limited to a far flung colony world, let me assure you that the wave of violence is spreading further each day. Most of the Asuka system has become a battlefield and disastrous attacks on the Nyuchiba City Sprawl are becoming a daily occurrence. And as we have learned today, even Earth, the heart of the Federation is now a target of these relentless terrorists and warmongers.”

Another pause. Fujiwara quickly found the correspondence from the Federation News Service, knowing that the single largest press agency within the Federation would also command the single biggest viewership and then looked right into their camera.

“I ask you, the good citizens of the Federation to aid us, in any form you see fit, to take on these warmongers and together to send them the unmistakable message that we will not accept their reign of murder and terror. That we will not sit by quietly while they try to destroy the unbreakable bond that we have shared for centuries. I ask you to help your brothers and sisters just like the Confederacy came to your help during the Great War to fight the Dominion. When we shed blood together to drive the invaders back into the Gamma Quadrant. Let us now come together once more to drive our enemies back under whatever rock they crawled out of. Now, just like during the War, the destines of the Federation and the Confederacy are intertwined. Let us make our stand against fear and hate as one, united people.”


*
*
*


“The gods-damned opportunistic little bastard.”

Both the President and Speaker Jarni shot Trelu-Chi Sill surprising looks, not having expected such an outburst from the usually mild-mannered Bolian counsel.

The three men had only just finished watching the live feed of Ambassador Fujiwara press conference form the Nyuchbian embassy just a few blocks down the road from the presidential office at the Palais de la Concorde. It was supposed to be an official reaction from the Nyuchiban government to the hostage crisis in San Francisco but all three men had suspected something more when the Office of the President, the Federation Council and pretty much every news agency in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had been given short advanced notice of the speech. The fact that Fujiwara had been up to more than simply condemn the actions of his kinsmen on Earth had been more than evident when he had appeared with both the Federation flag and his own people’s emblem positioned right behind him.

“I apologize for my outburst, Mister President,” said Sill but was unable to remain sitting in his chair. He quickly turned off the screen as if unable to bear seeing the ambassador’s face anymore and then turned towards his boss. “He practically just single-handedly invoked the FWA provisions and without so much as giving us proper notice or for that matter consulting with us first.”

The white bearded Efrosian gave the Bolian and blank look. “Surely he can’t just do that in a press conference. There are certain protocols to follow.”

“Well, Mister Speaker, the man just tossed the protocols right out of the window. He’s practically addressed the entire Federation on a live feed. And those few million who didn’t catch it now will undoubtedly do so when the FNS will rerun the footage for the rest of the week.”

The speaker of the Federation Council shook his head. “It does not matter how many people have seen this. His government has made no formal request to enact those provisions and we have certainly not agreed in any way or form to consider them.”

Sill took a moment to compose himself before he faced Speaker Jarni again. “Don’t you see, sir, they don’t have to. By now billions of people will have realized that he is absolutely correct about the FWA. Sure, most will never have heard about it but it’s not exactly a secret. All they have to do is spend two minutes on FedNet to learn that we asked thousands of mercenaries to fight the Dominion during the War in return for money, resources and political favors. And guess what we promised the Nyuchibans? Do you really think that after today the masses won’t scream for us to hold up our end of the bargain?”

“The majority isn’t always right,” said Jarni.

“Certainly not. Unfortunately for us, that’s how a democracy works. By the time you get back into the council chambers you will have to deal with dozens of councilors with pressure from their constituents driving them to ask for a special session on these matters. Before long there’ll be a vote and if we’ll try to block it we’ll look like we don’t want to get our hands dirty fighting terrorists which have already struck on our own soil.”

“What are our options?” said the President in his deliberate speech pattern.

The Bolian let himself fall back in his chair, seemingly deflated. “I don’t think we have much of choice at this point, Mister President. Naturally we’ll have to see how public opinion plays out after this. But unless Tessier can pull off a miracle in San Francisco and end the hostage crisis quickly and without further losses of life, Starfleet military action on Asuka III may be unavoidable.”
037 - "Getting In Is The Easy Part." by CeJay
037 “ “Getting In Is The Easy Part.”


The little intel they had suggested that there were both hostages and terrorists on the roof which meant their approach and deployment had to be quick and ruthless in order to minimize the chance of the terrorists killing any further hostages or warning their comrades on the seventy-fourth floor.

In order to achieve this, Hot Rod had killed all the SAFVe’s lights and let the shuttle drop rapidly in a vertical approach until they reached the optimal height from which the team could be lowered onto the top of Fed Plaza.

Four men stayed back on the SAFVe, scanning the roof with their rifles to immediately eliminate any terrorists while the eight remaining team members, including Mech and Gavin repelled downwards.

The LT of course didn’t entirely rely on the overwatch as she glided towards the roof. With her compactly-designed assault rifle at the ready, she was prepared to take out any enemy she could find. Experience told her that the insertion part of this mission was one of the trickiest. One mistake here, one opponent overlooked and their precious element of surprise was ruined.

The entire team touched down at about the same time and instantly formed a circle in order to cover every angle.

The first thing Mech realized was that she was unable to contact anyone using her comms. She would have to use visual and verbal prompts to lead her team.

The second thing she had noticed was the fact that nobody had fired a single shot yet, meaning neither anyone in her insertion team nor the overhead cover guys had made contact with the enemy.

“It’s too quiet,” whispered Gavin who knelt just a few feet next to the LT, continuously scanning his sector for movement that wasn’t there.

Mech raised her arm into the air, made a fist and then pulled it down again. It was a sign to Hot Rod, letting her know to say in position for as long as she could. The cover would come in useful if the enemy was hiding somewhere on the roof. Time however, she realized, was not in their favor. Starfleet would be making its move soon, no doubt making every attempt to get the unauthorized MSD vessel out of the closed air space.

“Two teams. Sweep the roof,” she said and thanks to their training didn’t have to elaborate further. Everyone already knew which team they would belong to and which way to head for.

Mech, Gavin, Panettiere and Hickson slowly approached what appeared to be the main building access.

“Movement,” Gavin said when he spotted the door being opened and immediately went back onto one knee and ready to take out whoever emerged.

The rest of the team followed suit.

“I thought you’d never get here,” a familiar and deep voice exclaimed just before a mountain of a man appeared in the doorframe.

“Jesus Christ, Tank,” said Gavin as he lowered his rifle and began to stand, fully mindful that he had almost blasted away a fellow team-member. “How about a heads up next time, huh?”

“Sorry rook, but I figured it be safer in here. Didn’t want our guys to mistake me as a bad guy when you came racing out of the sky. With no comms and all.”

Mech nodded and stood also. “Wise precaution. What do we got?”

Before he could answer, Jackson Slade appeared and pushed himself passed the huge Tank in order to address the team leader. “Routine hostage situation. Approximately seventeen well-armed tangos minus three and located on the seventy-fourth floor. Somewhere between forty to fifty hostages. We’ve got three hostages secured and lost one.”

The LT acknowledged with a sharp nod. “Let’s get the three hostages out of here now and then proceed to seventy-four.”

It took Tank less than a minute to round up the two women and one man who were all shaken up but not enough to not be extremely grateful to still be alive, considering that they had been chosen to be sacrificed first.

The team secured them to the smart-ropes still dangling from the SAFVe above and they were quickly and safely whisked up into the hovering shuttle. Seeing no more immediate need for Hot Rod to remain stationary, she gave the pilot the signal to disengage.

“Contrary to Slade’s report, there isn’t much routine about this operation,” said Tank as he led the team down into the building. He directed them to two unconscious bodies which appeared to belong to the terrorists.

“My God,” said Gavin when he realized that one of them had the skin of his face pulled off. But instead of bone and muscle, the man’s skull was made out of gleaming synthetic materials. “Another full-body android.”

“They all are,” said Slade.

“That changes things,” said Mech and then went on to answer Tank and Slade’s asking expressions. “Based on what we have found at Half Moon Bay we have to assume that the entire building may have been wired with tri-cobalt explosives. If the hostage takers are androids, it stands to reason that they are considered expandable and that blowing up the building is more than just a contingency plan.”

Slade nodded in agreement. “Our first priority has to be to get the rest of the hostages out of the building. And we probably don’t have much time. They may decide to light the fuse the moment they suspect that we have breached the building.”

Mech didn’t say anything as she considered her options.

Tank noticed the inappropriate introspection. “Teamwork, LT, remember?”

She gave him a little smile. “You know me, never has been my strong point.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that if these guys are androids I may be able to hack into their cybernetic brains to find out what’s going on here.”

But Slade didn’t appear to like the idea. “We already know what’s going on. These guys are Nyuchiban terrorist trying to make a political statement by killing hostages. We need to take them out before this escalates.”

“I’m not convinced that that’s all there is.”

“So say you’re right,” said Gavin. “We still need to clear those hostages before these guys get a chance to burry us all. That’s gotta be the priority, right?”

Mech nodded slowly. “It is. But the moment they make us we may already be doomed. All it takes is one command to trigger this thing. No, we need another strategy to get close without them knowing it.”

At that Tank smirked. “I think I know a way. Tell me, LT, how do you feel about joining a party?”


*
*
*



“It’s a shuttle, ma’am, and it just deployed a strike team on the roof,” said the ensign who had been tasked to monitor the airspace around Fed Plaza.

This news had immediately captured the full attention of everyone assembled in the runabout cum command center but none more so than Admiral Tessier. “I didn’t give authorization for a strike team to enter through the roof. Whose shuttle is it?”

The ensign shook his head. “Not one of ours, ma’am.”

“It’s mine,” said Masamune.

The Starfleet admiral whipped around to face the MSD chief. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she barked.

But he failed to be intimidated. Instead he carefully placed both his hands on top of his ivory cane and returned her intense stare. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. Besides, I told you I already have people on the inside. I was not about to leave them there without backup.”

Captain Whren, the Andorian security officer, quickly jumped into the fray as well. “You’ve just crossed a line, Masamune. This is a Starfleet operation you are interfering with now. You are in violation of an executive, presidential order. Once we’re done with you, you’ll never operate within the Federation again.”

The chief threw him a quick sidelong glance. “My operation precedes your presidential order. We were following an ongoing investigation which so happens to have led us directly to Fed Plaza. It also means, Captain, that we are much more qualified for this mission as we actually have an idea of what is happening here.”

“It’s a hostage crisis,” he shot back. “What else is there to know?”

General Schneider from the UEDA rose from his chair. “Mister Masamune, you could have at least given us the professional courtesy of a heads-up that you were planning this.”

The chief nodded, acceding the point. “I would have loved to. However I already knew what Starfleet’s reaction would have been and I couldn’t risk that.”

“You are such an arrogant, little ““

“Thank you, Captain,” said Tessier, cutting Whren off before facing Masamune again. “I want your people out of there and your shuttle to pull back, now.”

“That would be difficult with communications down.”

Tessier’s fuming eyes gave away her frustration which she managed to keep mostly contained in front of the assembled officers. “Then we’ll have it removed for you,” she said and then focused on the Andorian. “Captain, have that shuttle escorted out of the airspace and then prepare our own strike team. Perhaps we can use this unsanctioned assault as a distraction for our own infiltration.”

“And what if they resist?” said Whren, shooting Masamune an annoyed look.

“Then you take appropriate actions,” the admiral shot back.
038 - "The She-Wolf In Sheep's Clothing" by CeJay

038 “ “The She-Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing”


Kara Katanagi and Osshi Yamadera had been sitting, cuddled together in the washroom of her office for the last thirty minutes, barely saying a single word to each other in fear that the terrorists which had taken over the building may overhear them.

Kara had been cradling the tiny phaser Tank had given her and had spent most of her time staring at the air vent he had disappeared through earlier.

When they heard noises coming from down the shaft, they both jumped nervously and Katanagi promptly dropped the weapon on the floor.

“What … what’s happening?” Osshi whispered.

Kara managed to pick up the phaser again but for the next few seconds she was unable to move as she was paralyzed by fear.

The noise was getting louder, somebody was coming through the vent.

Katanagi pulled herself up and gestured for her colleague to hide next to the hatch which he did reluctantly. Motivated by not wanting to be killed without even putting up a fight, she quickly positioned herself on the opposite side and held out her phaser to point at the exit of the shaft. But her hand was shaking so much, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hit whoever would emerge from the hatch.

She thought that it sounded like more than one person making their way through the tight duct and she held her breath when the cover popped open.

A big, dark-skinned and hairless head emerged first.

“Oh thank god, thank god,” she whispered, dropped her weapon and quickly began to help Tank out of the vent. “I thought you left us behind. Damn it, I thought you left us here to die,” she repeated and then began to hit the huge CCiD operative.

“Ok, take it easy, lady,” he said but couldn’t help himself from smirking as she futility tried to punch him with her relatively tiny fists. “I told you I’d come back and I did.”

She stopped trying to hit him. “Don’t do that again.”

“You got yourself a new friend there, Boss?”

Embarrassed Tank quickly yet gently pushed Kara away as Gavin climbed out from the vent.

“I brought some help with me,” he said. “That’s Agent Thorgood and the LT,” he said once Mech had also emerged.

“This is Kara Katanagi and Jack.”

“Osshi,” the other man corrected in a tiny voice.

Katanagi looked over the two other agents. “Is that it? Three people? Against a dozen terrorists? You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, having accomplished to turn from anger to gratefulness and back to frustration in less than a minute.

“Don’t worry, Kara,” said Tank, trying to sound warm and reassuring with limited success. “These guys are professionals and we’ve got a plan. Besides we have a whole team on standby, ready to jump in. Now, it’s important that you and Jack remain calm and do exactly as we tell you. We’ll all get you out of her safe and sound but we need you to cooperate no matter how crazy it’ll sound. Can you do that?”

She needed a few more seconds to compose herself, take a couple of calming breaths and then nodded to him. “OK.”

“Good,” he said and then looked at Mech. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, should be about the right size,” she said.

Katanagi didn’t understand. “Right size for what?”

And then she watched wide-eyed when the female agent began to first kick off her boots, then begin to pull off her vest and bodysuit without so much as a warning.

“What’s she doing?”

Tank turned to face the perplexed woman. “She’ll need to borrow your dress.”

“What?”

“Listen, we don’t have too much time here. You said you’ll cooperate. Please we just need your dress.”

Glancing past the massive Tank, Katanagi could see that the woman was already down to her underwear. “I … alright. But I’m not getting undressed in front of strangers.”

“Didn’t have a problem with that before.”

She shot him a venomous look.

He gave her a smirk. “OK, go into the stall and just hand me the dress once you’re done.”

She nodded and began to walk off.

“Gentlemen, enjoying the show?” he asked when he noticed that both Oshii and Gavin hadn’t been quite able to completely ignore Mech stripping down right in front of them, seemingly with not a single shred of shame.

The two men quickly averted their eyes and Gavin mumbled something about being a happily married man.

“What about you, big fella,” said Mech with a playful smirk. “Last time I checked you were a man, too.”

He shrugged. “Nothing there I haven’t seen before.”

She walked right passed him an up to the stall in which Katanagi had disappeared to. Within moments she had the elegant Mandarin dress draped over the door for Mech.

Tank in the meantime caught Oshii unable to help sneaking another peek at his attractive and half-naked team-leader. “If you knew what that flawless body was made off, you wouldn’t be staring so hard, Jack,” he said, causing the now red-faced man to quickly turn away again.

The LT managed to put on the dress which, even though not a perfect fit “ she was a little taller than Katanagi “ worked well enough on her. “The shoes as well,” she said.

Turned out the high-heels were a bit of a problem. Mech made them fit somehow but after trying just one step, the usually athletic and sure-footed woman nearly fell flat on her face.

Tank couldn’t help but utter a short burst of subdued laughter. “Never thought I’d see you loose your balance.”

“How the hell do people walk in these?” she asked and tried again slowly, for all purposes, looking like a child at her first attempt to walk in her mother’s high heels. However within a few more steps she had regained her balance and surprisingly managed to move without much of an effort at all. “Ah, like this. How do I look?” she said, striking a pose.

“Stunning,” said Gavin when he caught her in the tight, red dress with the matching red shoes.

Tank clapped him on his back. “Don’t let the wife hear you say that,” he said and then to the LT. “I think you’re going to knock them out.”

“Literally, let’s hope.”


*
*
*


She was on all fours, crawling awkwardly in the restrictive dress, trying to get from the top of the staircase back towards the hallway which contained her office.

She had to remain low in order to avoid the chance of being spotted by the terrorists who were holding their hostages on the lower floor. And while she tried to listen carefully for any voices or movement coming from below, the silence was palpable. She thought she could hear the soft moans and cries of the hostages. Some had to be injured while most were simply scared. Scared enough apparently to keep their voices down to a minimum.

The hostage takers didn’t seem to speak at all.

She had almost made it around the corner and into the hallway. With her neck still craned back to look over her shoulder when she suddenly sensed a presence. She turned her head forward again and she came within inches of a gun barrel pointed right at her.

She squeaked in surprise.

“Who are you?”

She looked up at the man pointing the rifle at him. He was dressed in a smart party tuxedo and was maybe 5’10’’, not very tall and seemingly not particularly muscular.

When she didn’t respond, he moved the riffle emitter closer to her forehead. “What is your name?”

“Kara … Kara Katanagi,” the dark-haired woman stuttered.

“What are you doing up here?”

“I was trying to get … to get “ “

He didn’t let her finish when it became obvious that she had been attempting to escape. He reached for her arm and pulled her onto her feet as she yelped helplessly.

“You will return with me. If you resist, you will be killed,” he said curtly.

The woman didn’t fight him as she was being led back towards the staircase and then down to the large reception hall.

Mech quickly took in the scene. The hostages had been positioned on the floor and with their backs to the bar counter and few others near the idyllic waterfall. She counted forty-six in total. Five were bleeding from minor scrapes they had probably received by either not following instructions quickly enough or while diving for cover. One male hostage had been shot in the leg, presumably while resisting the terrorists. It did not appear to be a life threatening wound and it had been decently cleaned and bandaged by a fellow partygoer with some basic first aid skills.

She counted fourteen terrorists, all wearing similar dinner jackets and all armed with latest generation Romulan-style disruptor rifles. Extremely efficient and extremely deadly weaponry and not something easy to come by.

They all looked like typical nikkeijin, not too tall or overly muscular and with obvious East Asian facial features. Of course Mech already knew that all that was most likely an illusion. These were not real, flesh and blood humans. Not even in the loosest sense.

As she was led towards the bar counter, she quickly noted the enemies’ positions. Four were watching the hostages. Two by the waterfall and two by the bar. Three stood by the floor to ceiling windows, giving them the best vantage point not only overlooking the floor but also keeping an eye out on what was happening outside. Two stood by the doors leading to the staircase and another three covered the four elevators.

From what Slade had said, she had to assume at least another four or five terrorists in the lobby on the ground floor plus perhaps another two or three in the staircase. Best guess and not counting the three already neutralized on the roof, there were about twenty-two remaining terrorists in the building, all armed and all full-body androids.

The one she was most interested in at the moment was the one with the small purple orchid attached to his jacket’s lapel. He had been the one who had delivered their demands earlier. He stood among the other two by the windows, facing the floor he kept a watchful eye over everything.

He was without doubt the leader. A notion which was further confirmed when she saw the man who had found her make eye contact with him. They were communicating. The man with the purple orchid gave her a brief glance and then quickly lost interest again.

“Who … who are you?” one of the hostages asked Mech after she had been placed on the floor among the other partygoers.

This, Mech quickly realized, was the trickiest part of her infiltration. Nobody in this crowd knew who she was and she had to assume that most of these people were co-workers and therefore knew each other quite well. If the terrorists realized that she was a stranger too soon, her plan would fall apart.

“Kara,” she said and then, before the man could ask another question, very slowly shook her head, for just a moment the look on her face turning deadly serious before it was once again replaced by the scared expression she had been maintaining.

The man apparently caught the sudden change and while he couldn’t quite dispel the confused look on his own face, he managed to say nothing else.

Mech knew that time was not on her side. Less than five minutes had passed since they had landed on the roof and perhaps ten since Tank had disposed of the terrorists on the roof. By know they had to be suspicious about the fact that they had not been able to raise their comrades.

Her biggest concern of course was the potential bomb somewhere hidden within the building. If she was right and the bomb was more than just a precaution and instead an integral part of their plan, they could detonate it at any point and at the first sign of trouble. For now she hoped they had a strict timetable to work towards. After all, the longer this crisis went on, the longer the press agencies were broadcasting live feeds of the occupied Fed Plaza building across the Federation and the more terror would spread among those billions of citizens glued to the ongoing coverage.

It meant she had to make her move and she had to make it soon.
039 - "And That's How You Crash A Party." by CeJay
039 - “And That’s How You Crash A Party.”


“Doesn’t make much of a difference, does it?” said the real Katanagi as she finished zipping up Mech’s from-fitting bodysuit. “It doesn’t exactly leave much to the imagination.”

“You fill it out well,” said Tank absent-mindedly.

She glared at him but then quickly softened her expression.

They stood near the windows of her office and separated from the rest of the assault team which had eventually followed Tank, Gavin and Mech through the air vent.

Kara took a moment to ensure that she would not be overheard. “So about earlier,” she started. “At the party when you asked me to come up here. You weren’t thinking about, you know, anything other than getting me to safety?”

But the colossal MSD agent’s mind seemed somewhere else entirely as he kept his gaze out of the window and towards the ground hundreds of feet below.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Huh?” he looked at her as if seeing the woman for the first time.

Her frown returned. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”

“Listen, in case you hadn’t noticed yet, I have a lot on my plate right now.”

“Trust me, I had noticed,” she shot back. “But it didn’t look like those terrorists were on your mind just now.”

She had clearly hit a nerve and he was quick to dismiss it, not wanting to talk about his thoughts. “You’d be much safer in the washroom with Jack.”

She rolled her eyes at his refusal to call the man by his real name. “From what I’ve overheard there isn’t a safe place in the building at the moment on the account of that bomb and what not. Besides, I want to make sure I get that dress back. I paid good money for it.”

“Fine. But when the moment comes, you do exactly what I say when I say it. No discussion and no hesitation,” he said and shot one last glance towards the outside. “You do that and I’ll promise I’ll get you out of here alive.”

She appeared momentarily touched by his thoughtfulness and simply nodded.

Tank left her and walked over to were Gavin, Sylvester and the rest of the team were getting ready, double-checking their equipment.

“Remember, short, tight bursts. Two in the torso should be enough to finish them. Don’t even try to go for the head, it’s too small of a target and if you miss you’re bound to get somebody else in the crossfire,” said Sylvester to Gavin and the others.

“Got it,” said the rookie agent, trying to mask the nervousness in his tone. “So now we just wait for the LT’s signal? Any idea what that’ll be?”

“You know it when you’ll hear it,” said Tank, grabbed his rifle and then sat down on the floor with his back towards the wall.

Gavin nodded and sat next to him. “God, the waiting is the hardest part, huh?”

Tank barely even acknowledged him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, noticing that his eyes appeared glued to the window at the opposite side of the room.

“I’m fine, stop asking me that.”

Gavin wanted to point out that he had really only asked him once but decided against it. He was clearly in a foul mood. “It’s about that hostage you weren’t able to save earlier, isn’t it?”

“Listen, rookie,” he said sharply and shot him a sideway glance. “You don’t know me well enough to be able to know what I’m thinking of.”

“Right.”

They remained sitting there like that for another minute without saying a word to each other.

“You know that there isn’t anything you could have done differently though, right? It wasn’t your fault that man was killed.”

“You’re damned right it wasn’t. I’ve gone over it at least a dozen times in my head and there is nothing I could have done to save that guy. Nothing. I just wasn’t fast enough. That’s all it is. Not fast enough. All I know is that it’s not going to happen again. No matter what, I’m not going to let it happen again.”


*
*
*


Something was happening. Mech had been watching the man with the purple orchid very closely since she had been brought into the lobby and now, for the first time, his facial expression had changed. It was almost imperceptible but it was there nevertheless.

He looked towards two of his men who gave him sharp nods in acknowledgment and then set out towards the elevators.

According to her calculations they had at least another 20 minutes until they would make good on executing another hostage. Which meant that whatever they were doing now had most likely not been scheduled.

Mech had known that something like this was going to happen. It had only been a matter of time until they realized something had gone wrong on the roof and would have to go to investigate. The fact that they had not taken this unforeseen complication as a reason to detonate the bomb was enough reason to confirm her initial theory that they planned to stick to a pre-arranged timetable.

But all that would change when they realized that their roof sentries were dead or incapacitated and the building and been infiltrated. She had to make her move now.

She stood from where she had been held by the bar counter and immediately caused her guards to draw a bead on her. “Hey,” she said, her loud voice reverberating through the large lobby and quickly garnering everyone’s attention.

The man with orchid turned to look at her.

“That’s right. I’m talking to you. You’re in charge here, right?”

“Sit down and remain quiet,” he responded.

“No,” she said forcefully. “We’ve been sitting here quietly for long enough. As a senior representative of the Nyuchiba-Federation Trade Alliance I wish to negotiate our release.”

“There is no negotiation. Our demands have been communicated to the Federation government and it is in their power, and their power alone, to secure your release.”

She took a step towards him but stopped when the guards quickly moved closer, their disruptor rifles pointed at her head. She threw up her hands in surrender and stepped back towards the counter. Then she focused on the leader again. “Come on, you guys are nikkeijin, aren’t you? You want money? Power? I could arrange something back on Nyuchiba if you are willing to negotiate with me.”

“There will be no negotiation.”

Mech realized that she would have to change track. “OK fine, I can’t give you what you want. But how about you get us something we need? We have injured here that need medical attention. We are thirsty and hungry, some of us need use the washrooms. Surely you don’t want a crowd of unruly hostages. Let’s work something out.”

He stepped down from the raised platform by the windows and moved closer. “You would do yourself and your colleagues a favor by following our instructions, starting with sitting back down and remaining quiet.”

That’s right come to me. “You let us have a dermal regenerator, some food and a washroom break and I’ll sing and dance for you.”

He raised his rifle to point the muzzle at her head. “You do not appear to understand the peril you are inviting upon yourself and your colleagues by disregarding my directive.”

Some of the other hostages were beginning to grow more frightful now. Some were urgently whispering for her to simply sit down and shut up. Others were beginning to cry, unable to take the rising tensions.

“The hostages are going to become restless,” she said. “Are you going to risk that? What will you do then? Start shooting us. That will force the authorities outside to take immediate action and potentially end this whole thing long before you want it to.” Almost there, just a few more feet. Come on.

But the man with purple orchid stopped just outside of her reach and began to look her over closely and with increasing suspicion.

Mech knew she had gone too far. In her attempt to goad him within easy striking distance she had crossed the line between helpless and frightened hostage to assertive and cunning operative too quickly as not to raise his suspicions.

It’s as good as it’s going to get.

He must have made the decision that she was not who she claimed to be and was therefore a threat to be neutralized at once, at the same time as she made her call to action.

He once more took aim with his rifle as if ready to shoot her down even while she bend at her knees and then lifted off the ground in a vertical jump. She grabbed hold of a number of colorful streamers hanging from the ceiling and used her foot to kick against the bar counter behind her to give her the momentum to swing forward and towards the terrorist leader.

He fired at her but by that time she was already flying towards him and simply pulled her legs up to her chest to avoid the disruptor blast.

Before he could take proper aim again she was on top of him. She was thankful that Katanagi’s dress had been risqué thanks to a side slit going almost all way up to her hip, otherwise her current maneuver would not have worked.

She wrapped her leg tightly around his throat, catching his head just inside her knee and pulled him off his feet, dragging him with her as she swung in a curve and back towards the bar.

His rifle clattered to the floor but the remaining terrorists reacted quickly, bringing their own weapons to bear and opening fire, taking out dozens of streamers in the process but failing to connect with Mech.

The LT had too much momentum now to slow down and crashed into the back of the bar at full speed, taking down bottles, glasses and anything else that wasn’t bolted down as she and the terrorist leader fell behind the counter.

Having been prepared for the harsh impact she needed almost not time at all to recover which was good because she didn’t have any. Her move had bought her a few seconds of cover at the most, which was all it would take for the gunmen to get around that counter and have a clean shot.

Her hand darted under the red dress to retrieve the data port she had hidden there. She slapped one tiny disk on the dazed terrorist’s neck and the other on hers.

Within a flash she found herself within the virtual construct of his enhancer and fighting off his active firewalls designed to attack and neutralize an intruding hacker.

Thankfully for Mech his defenses had not been designed to keep out the likes of her. Whoever had sent these guys had not expected the enemy to know that they were mere puppets who could be hacked. They were supposed to pass for flesh and blood humans, terrorists wanting to strike fear into the heart of Federation citizens.

Mech already knew that there was much more at stake here than that and she put up a new record in getting passed those protective firewalls.

No motivation like getting your head shot off any second.

Her first priority was to confirm the presence of an explosive device in the building. Then, shut it down remotely. After that find the communication and transporter scramblers, shut those down as well and this hostage crisis would resolve itself within moments.

And do all that in less time than it would take a man to walk around a barrier and fire on a defenseless target.

For all her hacking skills it was simply not enough time.

But she found the bomb. Remote detonated tri-cobolt explosive with a detonation velocity of over 500 meters per second and a yield of 8.2 tons of TNT, enough to level three Fed Plazas.

She also established that it was located in the buildings sub-basement and attached to the structural support pillars. She killed the remote link but in her haste failed to realize that it would immediately engage the bombs countdown timer set to ten minutes.

And that was all the time she had.

Mech pulled out of his enhancer and found herself lying on her back with the still dazed terrorist leader on top of her. She reached for her inner thigh were she had concealed her Glock, pulled it free form the holster and then up in a smooth and uninterrupted motion to fire just in time to tag the first terrorist coming around the counter right between the eyes.

Then she let herself fall on her back again, raised her weapon over her head and fired two more shots at another terrorist who had tried to come up behind her.

However in her compromised position, with the weight of the leader pushing down on her, she had no chance to take out everyone converging on her.

The third man there had the opportunity to put her down for good. He raised his rifle and had a clear shot at Mech.

He never got it.

The man was cut down by a burst of automatic weapons fire coming from above.

Then the lights went out.

“Hostages, lay face down on the floor and cover your heads,” Tanks voice boomed from somewhere above.

And then the fireworks started in earnest.

The first explosion took down the door leading to the staircase, knocking the two guards stationed there to the floor immediately. The second one did something similar to one of the elevator doors.

While half the MSD strike team entered through openings they had just made, the rest covered their insertion from the upper floor, raining down precise bursts of duranium bullets on the terrorists below. Their enhancers made it easy to find their target in the darkness which was incomplete thanks only to the bright moonlight shining through the panoramic windows.

Mech decided to thank her team for the timely intervention later. For now she had to deal with the man with the orchid who was coming back around. She knew she had to take him out now. Once he fully regained his senses and realized what had happened, he could possibly re-establish the link to the bomb and detonate it.

“Bye, bye, bye,” she said in a sing-song voice as she pressed the muzzle of her gun against his temple. “Bye, bye Johnny.”

She squeezed the trigger, painting the wall with half his cybernetic brain.

Mech quickly pushed the dead weight off her and got back on her feet. She took stock of the situation instantly and determined that her team had things well in hand. The terrorists were at a clear disadvantage and while the weapon fire drowned the desperate cries of the hostages, it appeared they had followed Tank’s directive and kept hugging the floor. The gunmen were too busy trying to fend off the surprise assault as to turn their weapons against them.

Mech couldn’t afford to try and help take control of the situation. She had less than ten minutes to try and stop the bomb from blowing them all to kingdom come. She had to move fast.

Securing her gun, she didn’t want to lose it, she leaped from behind the counter and while even while up in the air she found a terrorist firing at the railing above, trying to keep the strike team contained. For additional momentum, she flipped in mid-air, brining her outstretched leg down hard against the man’s shoulder and then extended her other leg, smashing the sole of her boot into his face.

He went down hard.

Mech landed on the floor next to him on one knee, grabbed the rifle he had dropped and then had to make a split-second decision.

She had to get to the basement in a hurry with enough time to spare to defuse the primed bomb. She fully understood that there was no chance for the strike team to mop up the terrorists and evacuate the building within the timeframe available. Not even if she helped out.

The other option had been to locate the transporter scramblers but she had no idea where they had been set up, not to mention how many of them were in the building.

It was the basement then. But how to get there in five minutes or less?

The elevator shaft was her first instinct.

She got up and turned towards the area which held the turbo-lifts.

The immediate problem; most of the terrorists not occupied with the MSD team assaulting from above were now busy fending off the attack coming from exactly the direction she needed to take.

Between her team trying to storm onto the floor and terrorists attempting to hold them off there was simply no chance to make it her exit. She was good, she knew, but not good enough to fight herself through all that within a short amount of time and without putting her own people at risk while doing so.

She glanced at the windows and knew that it was her only option.

Mech set out.

“She drew out all her money out of the Southern Trust, and put her little boy aboard a Greyhound Bus,” she sang to herself to the beat of the steady weapons fire all around her and a melody which existed only in her mind. Without hesitation she ran up to one of the terrorists in her way, he had his back turned towards her, and snapped his neck with such force, his head nearly popped off his shoulders.

Not quite the way to destroy a full-body android but it was all the time she had as she let the momentarily disabled terrorist drop to the floor.

The next one saw her coming however and raised his rifle to take aim.

Mech didn’t slow down. “Leaving Louisiana for the Golden West, down came the tears from her happiness.”

She could see the armed man-bot trying to make sense of her words without success. It bought her precious seconds to get within striking distance and push the barrel of his rifle towards the floor just as he opened fire.

Her other arm extended backwards along with her entire left shoulder before snapping forward again and smashing her fist into his face will all the force she could muster. The result wasn’t pretty but it got the job done and another android went down.

By now she had nearly reached her destination and only one more terrorists stood between her and those floor to ceiling windows overlooking the City by the Bay.

She brought up the appropriated rifle even as she ran towards him at full speed and before he had the chance to take proper aim. “Her own little son name 'o Johnny B. Goode, was gonna make some motion pictures out in Hollywood,” she sang and unloaded onto the terrorist at the same time.

By unleashing one fiery bold of hot plasma after the next long after the body had been burned beyond recognition she achieved her secondary objective. The limp and lifeless android was hurled backwards with enough momentum to smash right through those thick, reinforced window panes and creating her exit in the process.

Here goes nothing.

“Bye, bye, Johnny. Good bye Johnny B. Goode.”


She leaped forward and into the night.
040 - "With A Little Help From My Friends." by CeJay
040 “ “With A Little Help From My Friends.”


Mech had never been a spiritual person but as she sailed through the air, 900 feet over the ground, she knew she needed a least a little miracle to survive what her boss would certainly have called an insane solo stunt. One he had explicitly asked her not to engage in.

Sometimes you just don’t get what you want.

She’d had enough of a run-up to the windows to hope that she was going to be able to get passed the jamming field in the building.

< Hot Rod, East side, now, > she said through her enhancer and prayed to Bhudda, the Great Bird of the Galaxy or whatever other deity deigned to listen to her at that moment, that the call went through.

There was very little else she could do as she swung her arms as if peddling the air in an attempt to drive herself forward and as far away from the building as gravity would allow.

Of course by that point she was already plummeting towards the Earth which was approaching at mind-numbing speed. Mech was an extraordinarily gifted athlete assisted by her not-so-natural enhancements but these weren’t the snow-cowered peaks of Nepal. This was the concrete jungle and no artificial augmentation in the universe was going to allow her to survive a fall from this height.

Below her she could see lights and hundreds of people who had spotted her by now, as well as the much more unlucky terrorist she had used to destroy the windowpanes. They stared upwards with a mixture of fear and excitement, most likely assuming that more hostages had been thrown out of the building and were now plunging to their deaths.

She thought she could hear the collective gasp of the helpless spectators below as they watched the drama unfold in front of their very eyes.


*
*
*


Tessier and half the complement of the command center were out of the runabout the moment they had detected the two figures smash through the windows on the seventy-fourth floor as if witnessing the unfolding disaster with their eyes would somehow be preferable than following it from the command center’s monitors.

“One seems to be a terrorist and the other one of the hostages,” said Captain Whren as he looked through a set of powered binoculars, quickly focusing on the woman in the red dress sailing through the air hundreds of feet above, momentarily defying gravity.

The admiral took the binoculars off him to get a look herself. “What the hell is happening up there? We still have ten minutes until the next deadline is up.”

“Masamune’s team must have engaged them forcing them to accelerate their plans,” said the Andorian and shot the MSD chief a dark scowl. “These people will be on your conscience, Chief, I hope you realize this.” The assumption wasn’t outlandish. Less than a minute earlier they had heard explosions and weapons fire coming from that very floor, as well as telling flashes of light.

But Masamune didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he secured his own binoculars and a small smirk found its way onto his lips when he recognized the person now starting to fall towards them who the Starfleet officers had falsely assumed to be a hostage. From the expression on Mech’s face she appeared to know exactly what she was doing. Or at least hoped that she did.

“What exactly do you find amusing about this situation?” the Andorian asked with indignant befuddlement.

“That’s no hostage,” he said.

“Admiral, that shuttle again,” one of the Starfleet ensigns said and pointed further up towards the building.

Sure enough the emerald-colored SAFVe shot around the corner of the building with what appeared to be a long, unfurled rope dangling from its underside.

Masamune immediately understood what Mech’s plan had been and the smirk quickly disappeared from his face. This had been exactly the kind of thing he had warned her about. But he also understood that if it had come to this, Mech had not seen any other choice.

When he tried to make contact with her, the static which greeted him was nearly overwhelming. < … located in the … primed to go …. less than ten … >, was all that he was able to pick-up. It was enough to make him appreciate the precariousness of the situation.

For the next few seconds everyone watched in captivated silence. It was clear to every bystander by now what the plan of the woman in the red dress had been, the question on everyone’s mind was if it was going to work.

Could the shuttle’s lifeline reach the plummeting woman before she would get intimately acquainted with the solid pavement and consequently turned into mush?

It was going to be a close call and while Mech’s eyes had since made contact with the approaching lifeline, there was nothing else she could do to slow her fall. To her credit she didn’t appear to be concerned about the ground racing up towards her as she kept her eyes trained upwards.

It didn’t look as if she could make it. That rope seemingly too far away to safe her, many in the crowd turned away, unwilling to witness the inevitable.

Masamune didn’t. Instead he noticed that Hot Rod wasn’t prepared to keep this entire operation in the hands of gravity alone. She plunged the SAFVe into a near vertical freefall now and it made the difference.

Mech was a good four stories above ground when she grabbed hold of the rope, more than likely tearing away multiple layers of her skin in the process, and the shuttle immediately pulled back up.

The crowd cheered in jubilation and then in awed surprise when the woman started firing the rifle she had managed to hold on through the entire fall. Her aim was accurate enough to blow out the windows on the third floor of the building and the suddenly taut and upward moving rope had given her the momentum to fly back towards Fed Plaza. She let go of the lifeline and easily sailed back into the building were she promptly disappeared.

Then the crowd loudly reacted to the far less graceful landing of the second body, mercifully dropping out of sight and into a tall and thick arrangement of shrubs and greenery.

Masamune didn’t waste time to appreciate Mech’s amazing acrobatic abilities and instead quickly turned towards Tessier who hadn’t been able to quite come to grips with the death-defying circus moves she had just witnessed. “Admiral, I just had confirmation that there is indeed a bomb in that building. We need to move now to ““

Tessier’s hesitation didn’t last long. “Whren, I want that strike team in there now and get that unauthorized shuttle out of here. I don’t care if you have to shoot it out of the sky.”

Whren hesitated and Masamune took the opportunity. “Selina, listen to me. That’s the wrong move here. My team is likely to have the hostages secured by now. We need to get our shuttles up there and evacuate the building and the immediate surroundings before it is too late.”

But Tessier shot him a venomous look. “You should be lucky I don’t have you arrested for interfering with a presidential order. Your people’s antics are endangering these hostages,” she said and then whirled around to face the Andorian. “Captain, I don’t see you following my orders.”

The man looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “Perhaps we should evacuate and hold off with that strike team to see what ““

“Damnit, this is not the time to lose your head, mister. Follow your orders.”

Decades of military training kicked back in almost instantly. He nodded sharply and relayed the orders to the officers around him.

But Masamune couldn’t stop wonder about the Starfleet captain’s sudden change of heart. He knew from Mech that he was involved somehow in what was going on here and considering Tessier’s reaction he was now more certain than ever that Whren knew more than she did.

Why do you not want to send in the strike team? The answer to that question terrified him.


*
*
*


Mech had stuck a graceful landing, rolling on the floor twice to absorb the momentum she had build up and came back up with her rifle ready to blast away any potential terrorists guarding the third floor.

There were none.

She hadn’t really expected anyone, fairly certain after hacking the orchid man that the remaining gunmen were stationed in the buildings main lobby a couple of floors below her.

She knew she had little time but after falling over 700 feet and then being yanked harshly back into the air only to go flying into the building once more, she needed at least a few seconds to collect her strength.

She took a knee, placed the rifle on the floor and then tore away at the hemline of Katanagi’s delicate dress. Then she tied the cloth around her right hand which had been badly torn when she had used it to grasp the rope. And while there wasn’t any blood and the pain was manageable, it was neither pretty nor practical to run around with a ripped open hand.

Moments later she was back on her feet, checking the disruptor rifle over even as she ran towards the main staircase. She found nobody inside.

Mech descended four flights in four leaps to get to the end of the staircase which to her dismay she found only reached as far as the first floor and did not continue down into the basement.

Would have been too easy.

She opened the only door slowly, fully aware that by her best estimates at least two or more terrorists were positioned somewhere on that floor.

After making sure nobody was directly behind the door, she slipped outside and found what looked like the entrance to the basement directly opposite from where she stood. Unfortunately she would have to cross a wide-open space to get to it.

She pushed her back against the wall and then approached the corner to see if anybody was covering the passageway.

Mech peeked around the bend and nearly had her head separated from her shoulders.

She withdrew just in time to avoid being incinerated by a barrage of disruptor fire which practically evaporated an entire chunk of the wall she had used for cover. She had to escape all the way back towards the staircase to avoid being struck by debris which exploded in every direction under the force of the unrelenting disruptor fire.

From the short glimpse she had been able to take in before they had started shooting, she now believed that there were at least five terrorists in the lobby and they had all been waiting for her, most likely following her unconventional shortcut by watching the media coverage.

Mech was stuck. They had her pinned down. There was no way she could get past the five rifles pointed at the corridor to get into the sub-basement and even her aerobatic skills would be of little help, the corridor was simply to wide to attempt a run for it.

Worse, if these terrorists really were on a suicide mission as she assumed they were, all they had to do was to keep her from entering the basement for another few minutes until there was no more chance for her to reach the bomb in time.

As the jammers were back to full effect she couldn’t tell if Tank and the others had been successful in eliminating the opposition on the forty-seventh floor or if they had begun their evacuation yet. For all she knew they needed more time than what was left to them.

And at this moment she was the only person who could provide them with it.

It turned out she had not run out of miracles just yet.

Two explosions rocked the building not quite strong enough for the tri-cobalt planted in the basement and designed to take out Fed Plaza but enough to blow the front and rear entrances to the building. The entire lobby shook and Mech realized that Starfleet was making its move.

Under normal circumstances she would have called that approach careless and amateurish, revealing Starfleet’s inexperience in dealing with a well prepared hostage situation but in this instance it was exactly the distraction she needed.

The terrorists had expected this kind of attack and had fortified their positions sufficiently to hold off the initial assault. Hearing the sound of the members of the Starfleet team being taken out and forced to regroup confirmed Mech’s theory.

But Starfleet’s crude approach notwithstanding, the terrorist had been forced to train their weapons on the new opponent, allowing Mech to make her move.

Without any further hesitation she ran towards the basement entrance, sliding across the slick marble floor of the lobby to keep a low profile and avoid being taken out in the crossfire.

She got back on her feet as soon as she was back behind solid cover and hauled ass.

Already knowing what to expect, she dialed up the power levels of her disruptor rifle to full, then shut down the firing emitter and pulled the trigger. The weapon instantly began to whine and vibrate as it worked itself to an overload.

She slung the rifle across the floor until she saw it hit an invisible barrier which flashed briefly upon impact.

Mech found a niche to hide just before the Romulan rifle ripped itself to shreds in a powerful explosion, taking the force field that was keeping her from the levels down with it. Not a second later and before either terrorist or Starfleet assault team had been any wiser, Mech dove into the sub-basement entrance.
041 - "All Together Now." by CeJay
041 “ “All Together Now.”


Gavin Thorgood’s heart had been pounding furiously in his chest in the minutes leading up to their planned assault.

The waiting, he had decided, had been the worst part. Because hours later, when everything was said and done, he had trouble remembering the details of how exactly things had transpired after they had truly begun. The excitement and adrenaline had fused the entire episode into a foggy blur.

The three assault teams positioned in the staircase, by the elevators and in the office hallways right above the reception area had stood ready to await Mech’s signal who had let herself get captured by the terrorists, hoping to be able to pass as an escaped hostage.

She had sold it perfectly and was quickly led back below to be kept with the other captives.

And while Gavin had still been wondering what form exactly the LT’s signal would take, the shooting had already started.

By the time he, Tank and the rest of his team had reached the upper banister and brought their assault rifles to bear, they just caught a glimpse of Mech flying through the air, with one of the terrorists firmly held in a tight leg lock, and right towards the back of the bar.

Together they loudly crashed into the shelf-lined walled filled with bottles and spirits and disappeared behind the counter.

Because of the communications scrambler in effect, there had been no way to communicate with her or with the other teams standings ready to breach the room. Fortunately Mech had caused enough of a ruckus to prompt them into action as well and within moments two explosions ripped away the doors leading to the staircase and the elevators.

“Hostages, lay face down on the floor and cover your heads,” Tank roared beside him and then unleashed short bursts of rapid fire at the hostile forces positioned closest to the hostages.

But Gavin didn’t understand how, he had no clear line of fire on anyone as colorful streamers hanging from the ceiling were obstructing his vision. “I don’t have a visual, I don’t have a visual.”

Tank must have heard the young man’s panic in his voice. “Calm down and use your optical targeting assistance,” he said, just before he squeezed the trigger to take down another enemy.

Gavin mentally berated himself for forgetting this new feature. He had always been slightly uncomfortable with the seemingly magical heads-up display that his enhancers could project right into his vision. It took but one thought to bring it up.

The image was not perfect and in truth he was certain it would give him a headache if he used it for too long. A string of slight static interrupted it once in a while but it did its job. It easily outlined every person below, even if they were concealed behind the streamers. It wasn’t difficult to make out the enemy and he quickly took aim at the ones hefting Romulan-style disruptor rifles.

He didn’t miss the two men trying to round the bar counter to get to Mech who had landed behind it. He already feared that he wouldn’t be fast enough to take them out before they could get a shot off but clearly he hadn’t given his team leader enough credit. Two shots rang out in quick succession and nailed the two terrorists square in the head, sending them flying backwards.

He got the drop on the third man to the scene and practically perforated him before he could open up on Mech.

As arranged earlier, Sylvester had located the main power conduit for the entire floor and shut it down, plunging the entire lobby into darkness.

Gavin and the others had been prepared for his of course, switching their optical targeting enhancers to night vision mode. And while their cybernetic opponents doubtlessly possessed a similar ability, the MSD team took full advantage of the two seconds or so that they needed to adjust.

Gavin thought he could see Mech re-appear from behind the counter, taking down a terrorist by practically leaping on top of him and then heading towards the windows. She moved so fast, it was difficult to even be sure it was her at all.

But Mech was facing too much opposition to rely solely on her team to clear her path. Gavin was concerned that perhaps she had taken on too much as she faced off with multiple hostiles.

He needn’t have worried, he soon realized.

She moved with a grace of a deadly ballet dancer through the rows of armed men who stood between her and those panoramic windows.

And Gavin couldn’t be entirely sure but was she actually singing while she took down one man after the next in a perfect economy of movement?

“What is she doing?” he asked even while he took aim at another terrorist trying to close in from her blind spot and while she dispatched one more hostile by defenestrating him.
Before anyone could provide an answer, she had already leaped out of the building seemingly without giving it a second thought.

“Whatever it is, she’s in a hurry which means we don’t have much time left,” said Tank. “We need to speed things up.”

“What do you suggest we ““

The answer was immediate. Tank simply jumped over the banister and crushed one of the hostiles under his weight before striking out against another, smashing his face with his bare knuckles.

“Right,” said Gavin and continued to provide cover fire from above. He wasn’t certain if Tank’s hands-on approach was really going to get this situation under control sooner but there was no doubt that it made Tank feel a lot better to smash something instead of shooting at it from a distance.

In the end one thing appeared certain. Their multi-pronged assault had been a resounding success as the terrorists had clearly not expected nor had they been prepared for their tactics.

After just a few minutes the thunderous rumble of weapons fire grew silent as it became obvious that the opposition had been neutralized.

Gavin and the rest of his team carefully descended the wide staircase, keeping their rifles up and ready to fire at the slightest bit of movement form the seemingly incapacitated enemy.

Jackson was doing the same, bringing his team in from the staircase while Sylvester headed up a team entering from the blown out turbolift doors.

Tank was standing near the center of the large lobby and littered around him were the bodies of defeated terrorists, most peppered by large bullet holes but a fair number with smashed faces and other equally fatal wounds. In fact Tank was still holding on to one of them, keeping him propped up by the collar of his tattered shirt and hitting him repeatedly in the head even though the much smaller man was clearly long past noticing.

“Hey,” Gavin said as he approached carefully. “I think you got him.”

Tank looked up at him and shot him a perplexed look as if he hadn’t fully understood. He was breathing hard and his hands were coated in a white, oily substance.

Gavin lowered his rifle and gestured towards the man in Tank’s grasp. “I think we’ve got’em all.”

It took Tank another second or so to finally get on the same page before he let go, allowing the destroyed man to drop onto the floor like a lifeless puppet. “Yeah,” he said and looked over his handiwork. “They’re all goddamned androids, every last one of ‘em.”

Gavin looked relieved to hear that. He had never killed a man before and was glad that the streak had not come to an end that night.

“We need to get these people out of here and we have a few wounded as well,” said Jackson Slade, quickly adopting the mantle of leadership again which he had only recently and reluctantly given up. “And quickly. We don’t know how much time we’ve got left. If Mech fails ““

“She’ll come through,” Tank barked sharply.

“I’m not willing to take that risk,” he responded, his tone equally firm. Then he indicated to some of the team members. “Get ready to move. Injured and hostages first,” he said before he turned to Gavin. “Comms are still down so try find a way to get Hot Rods’ attention. I doubt we have the time to trek everyone back up to the roof.”

The young MSD agent nodded and headed for the blown out windows, hoping he could find and make contact with their shuttle pilot the old fashioned way.

“Tank, I need you to ““

“Hold that thought,” said Tank, heading out and then sprinting up the staircase before he had even finished his sentence, leaving Jackson Slade to curse him under his breath.

Tank couldn’t have cared less and within moments he was back on the upper floor, making his way down the hallway until he reached a familiar door. He slid it open and quickly entered. Later on he wouldn’t be able to recall what had gotten into him that he had shown such urgency to come back to this place, for now all he knew was that he wanted Kara Katanagi safe.

But before he could even call out her name, he spotted sudden movement from the corner of his eye.

The baseball bat hit him right in the side of his head and he actually shook upon impact like a huge tree caught in a strong wind.

Then he turned slowly to see Kara Katanagi with the now cracked, wooden bat in hand, starring at him with a guilty expression on her face. She didn’t speak right away and neither did he as they simply looked at each other, neither one quite able to believe what had just happened.

“That was a pretty good swing,” he finally said.

“Baseball’s big on Nyuchiba.”

He nodded. “That explains it.”

She considered the destroyed bat for a moment and then threw it away. “Is it over?” she asked. “I heard all that horrible shooting.”

“It’s over,” he said, apparently perfectly willing to move on. “Come on, we’re getting everyone out of here.”

“Thank God,” she said and then quickly followed him out of her office.

“By the way,” she said once they were in the hallway, heading back towards the lobby. “Sorry about that thing with the bat.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I probably deserved that.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled under her breath. The smirk on her face showed that she didn’t really mean that. Sure, they had not gotten off to a great start but clearly Tank had grown on Kara and not just because he had been instrumental in saving her life.

By the time they got back to the lobby Gavin had been successful in waving in Hot Rod and the SAFVe was hovering just a few feet from the large window which Mech had so unceremoniously destroyed earlier. The MSD agents had cleared the area of remaining shards and now helped a number of still dazed and scared hostages onto the shuttle. Not an easy task considering that the wind kept rocking the SAFVe back and forth and the gap between the shuttle and the building was still significant enough to make some hostages think twice about attempting this daring escape.

As time was of the essence, Jackson had decided not to try a more convenient evacuation route. Instead he had his team practically push those hostages out of the building were they could be grabbed by the men on the shuttle and pull them in.

Tank indicated towards the line that had been formed by the window. “I want you on that shuttle now.”

His harsh tone not withstanding, she looked genuinely touched by his concern. “Doesn’t look like you’re going to have room for everybody on there.”

She was right. The SAFVe had not been designed as a troop transport and was quickly filling up to capacity before even a third of the hostages had made it on board.

Gavin noticed as well. “We need some help,” he said. “If we do this on our own we might be here all night. Don’t think we have that kind of time.”

“Starfleet has shuttles in the area. We need to find a way to get their attention,” said Slade.
It turned out he needn’t have bothered. At least two white-painted Starfleet vessels were already approaching fast.
Gavin shook his head. “I’m not sure they’re here to help.”

Something that became obvious when the two shuttles opened fire.

“Get back, get down,” Jackson yelled and grabbed a short man who had just attempted to jump into the SAFVe and pulled him back into the building.

The other operatives quickly followed.

The phaser beams hit the SAFVe and the windowpanes on the floor directly above them, raining down shards of transparent aluminum onto the CCiD team and the panicking hostages.

Hot Rod had no choice but to disengage, trying to evade the incoming fire. Gavin was certain he could hear the Jamaican pilot cursing as the packed shuttle pulled away from the window.

“What in the goddamn blazes are these idiots doing?” roared Tank whose first instinct had been to push Kara down onto the floor.


*
*
*


“What in the blazes are these idiots doing?”

Masamune wasn’t a man known to lose his temper but once he had caught sight of the two Starfleet shuttles opening fire on his SAFVe, he completely lost it. He was so furious, his entire body appeared to be trembling as he held his cane so tightly his knuckles were turning as white as its ivory handle.

“Don’t worry, they have been ordered to set their phasers on the lowest setting,” said Whren in a dismissive tone as he was relying orders to his pilots.

“You moron,” said Masamune. “Can’t you see they are trying to evacuate the building? You are putting the lives of those hostages and of my own team at risk. Have those shuttles disengage now.”

That tone apparently didn’t go over well with the Andorian who turned to face the MSD chief with an angry look in his eyes. “You don’t give any order around here. This is a Starfleet operation which your team is blatantly interfering with.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass whose mission this is,” Masamune shot back. “We are all on the same side here. We are all trying to get this situation resolved with the least number of casualties. This is not about whose in charge but about saving those people. I am starting to wonder if perhaps you have a different motive here altogether.”

The blue-skinned captain bared his teeth and his antennae tenses visibly. “I don’t care for your implications, mister. In fact I’m mightily tempted to have you removed and arrested for you continuous interference.”

But the MSD chief simply dismissed the man, realizing that he was only wasting his time with the stubborn Andorian. “Selina, for the love of God, put a stop to this before it’s too late.”

The admiral had apparently been happy to oversee the spat between the two men quietly as she stood a few feet away and monitoring the various screens in the runabout’s command center. With her arms crossed in front of her chest, she slowly shook her head. “The Captain’s right, Tessho. You’re people should disengage and let us do our job. There are too many people here working at cross purposes.”

Masamune suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. As far as he was concerned the reason for their uncoordinated efforts was obvious. Starfleet. Then he pointed at a screen which was showing the FNS live broadcast. The sound was muted but the images spoke volumes. Two Starfleet shuttles were firing upon his SAFVe while the caption read: Starfleet battles with local law enforcement?

“Tell me is this the message you want to send to these terrorists? To the people all over the Federation?”

Selina Tessier’s eyes grew wider, clearly not having noticed the public relations implications yet. “Damn it,” she fumed. “Captain have those shuttles disengage.”

“But sir ““

“Do it now.”

He nodded and relayed the orders.

“Selina, we need your shuttles to help with ““

But she cut him off. “That’s Admiral to you,” she barked, apparently still fazed from the debacle playing out on the live broadcasts. “And I don’t want to hear another word from you or I’ll make good on Whren’s threat,” she said and then turned to one of her other officers. “What’s the status on our assault teams?”

“We’ve taken some casualties,” the young ensign reported, “but the main team has entered the staircase and should reach the 74th floor in less than five minutes.”

Masamune wasn’t easily intimidated and in order to get the admiral’s attention, harshly stomped his cane against the deck plates. “We don’t have time to wait that long. That bomb could go of at any moment.”

“Yes, that bomb again. I’m not convinced at all of this theory of yours,” she said.

But Masamune wasn’t listing. At least not to her. Instead it looked as if he was trying to concentrate on something unseen. Then he reached into the pocket of his long coat and produced a data port. He unceremoniously pushed an ensign away from his station and got to work at the console.

“Hey, you can’t do that,” the ensign tried to protest.

But by that time he had already fixed the data port to the console and just as a couple of security officers were making their way over to apprehended the MSD chief, a female voice filled the command center.

“… disabled the communications jammer. Cracking the transporter scrambler is going to be a lot tougher and I’m not going to be able to do that with the time we have left. The bombs are about two minutes away from turning this building into rubble. I don’t think I have enough time to shut it down but I may be able to find a way to buy us some more,” said Mech’s disembodied voice.

It had stopped everyone in their tracks as they listened to her appraisal of the situation.

“Mech, what are the chances you can do that?” Masamune could have used his internal comms to speak to her but this time he wanted the audience. He needed to make them understand the seriousness of their predicament.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I have been able to interface with the controls but there are more firewalls here than stars in the sky.”

Masamune looked towards Tessier who was listening carefully but kept her expressions neutral and difficult to read. “If you don’t think you can do anything, I want you to come out now. There is no point in sacrificing yourself for nothing.”

“Are the hostages clear?”

Masamune didn’t answer which of course was an answer in itself.

“LT, this is Tank. We still have people in the building but if Starfleet would get their collective fingers out of their ass and help us get on with the evacuation instead of trying to have us all incinerated, we might be able to clear the building in time.”

The MSD chief shot a telling look at the admiral. A look that seemed to say: This is what’s going on and you and your thick head are the reason everybody may end up dead. And oh yes, I am recording all this for posterity.

Support came from another and much more unexpected source. General Schneider form the UEDA who had mostly watched this drama unfold quietly since Starfleet had taken operational command now stepped up. “We already have four city blocks in each direction cleared and evacuated,” he said.

Masamune aimed a surprised look at the military commander.

“Seemed to be a wise precaution once you mentioned a bomb,” he said. “I have a number of shuttles standing by,” he added and then looked at the Starfleet flag officer. “But yours are closer, Admiral.”

One could accuse Admiral Tessier of many things, including being a stubbornly bad team player. But she wasn’t one to hesitate once she realized that she had been wrong. Now faced with the possibility that this entire operation could fail in the most catastrophic way imaginable because of her reluctance to listen to Masamune, she took prompt action. “Captain, have those shuttles head back up to the 74th floor and assist MSD with the evacuation. Ensign, give the assault team a new objective. I want those transporter scramblers found and deactivated yesterday.”

“About time somebody got their act together out there,” said Tank in his characteristically undiplomatic tone after overhearing the conversation in the command center. “LT, bail out now. We’re gonna get these folks out of here in a jiffy.”

“Even with Starfleet’s help you’re not going to have enough time. I’m going to try and get you some more by hacking this thing. Chief, tell Bobbie to make sure the switch is in place in case I need it.”

Masamune frowned noticeably at this. “You’ve never been able to test it. As far as I’m concerned the whole thing is still mostly theoretical.”
“No time to argue. I’m going to try and ““

The roar of an explosion drowned out her voice.

“Mech? Come in, Mech, can you hear me?” Masamune said, his voice betraying his sudden concern for his operative.

But the line had gone completely dead.
042 - "Everything Ends Eventually." by CeJay
042 “ “Everything Ends Eventually.“


Once passed the force field, Mech reached the sub-basement level on which she expected the tri-cobalt bomb quickly and without further incident, leaving the Starfleet assault team behind to deal with the remaining terrorists above.

Her objective was clear. Find the explosive, which according to her calculations had now been primed to go off within three minute and thirty-six seconds, and disarm it any way possible.

Even with the little time she had left, she knew she couldn’t rush matters. Chances were guards had been posted to stop anyone attempting to tamper with the device.

She freed her Glock from the thigh-holster and adopting the tried and true Weaver stance, she slowly entered the vast sub-basement floor.

Since main power to the building had been cut, the lights were out, leaving only the sporadic auxiliary illumination which cast the cavernous floor into a dim green glow. Mech quickly switched on her optical enhancers and before even fully stepping into the floor, she carefully scanned her surroundings.

The fact that she couldn’t pick up any sign of life didn’t mean that the area was secure. In fact she had already expected this ever since learning that these terrorists weren’t made of flesh and blood.

And neither are you. So tell me, where’s the difference?

Mech decided that this was neither the time nor place for existential deliberations and kept moving while she kept her head on a swivel to try and spot any dangers or possible ambushes before it was too late.

The fact that the entire floor appeared to be open-planned was both an advantage and a disadvantage. There weren’t many places to hide, excluding a few large storage crates and thick, symmetrically positioned support beams. It also meant a lack of cover should she come under fire.

It took no time at all to identify the bomb. Or bombs for that matter. Packs of azure-colored liquid, gallons of the stuff, were strapped to seemingly every single support beam. Whoever had wired the building had done their homework and been deadly serious about bringing the entire thing down and turning it into a heap of junk and debris.

The tactic of using multiple devices forced her to change her own strategy to try and manually disarm the explosives. There simply was not enough time to try to attend to each of he dozes of explosives.

She did however find a makeshift computer console which had been brought in to configure the bombs. She took one more quick look around to be reasonably sure that the air was clear, before placing her Glock aside and accessing the computer.

As predicted all normal attempts to gain access failed thanks to a series of sophisticated encryption protocols which had been programmed into the console. It was nothing Mech hadn’t seen before.

She quickly slapped a dataport on the console and one on the side of her neck. Within seconds she had accessed the virtual user interface and was well on her way to circumvent the device’s security and firewalls. They were aggressive too, programmed with a counter-hacking protocol they were designed to not only stop intruders but to spike them, frying their enhancers and flat-lining a hacker instantly.

Mech of course wasn’t just any hacker and she managed to defeat the level six, double-layered firewall in just under twenty seconds. A personal best for her.

No sooner had the thought that all this was a little bit too easy crossed her mind, did she realize that the initial firewall did not actually protect the detonator controls. Instead she had merely gained access to the user interface.

From here she was able to control what looked like the communications jammer, the transporter scramblers and the detonators. And each individual system was protected by its own series of additional firewalls.

Her first instinct of course was to go for the bomb controls but after realizing that it would take her at least five minutes to break those firewalls, she focused on something easier first. The scrambler was nearly as difficult to crack so that left the communications jammer which went down within a few seconds.

She started hacking the firewalls protecting the detonator controls even while she sent and update to the Masamune who she hoped would be able to receive her now. < Chief, this is Mech. I have gained entry to the sub-level and discovered the bombs. There are at least two dozen individual devices down here but I have located the central control station and disabled the communications jammer. Cracking the transporter scrambler is going to be a lot tougher and I’m not going to be able to do that with the time we have left. The bombs are about two minutes away from turning this building into rubble. I’m don’t think I have enough time to shut it down but I may be able to find a way to buy us some more. >

Mech quickly learned that things upstairs were worse than she had thought. She was relieved to learn that Slade and Tank’s team had eliminated the terrorists on the seventy-fourth floor but alarmed that Starfleet had openly attacked MSD over jurisdictional nonsense and delaying the evacuation of the hostages in the process.

Starfleet and the UEDA had apparently changed their tune after she had made contact but by that point it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. The firewalls she faced were hackable but there were simply too many of them to get through in the time she had available.

And then there was that feeling in the back of her mind that something was very wrong.

Many people claimed to have a sixth sense but for Mech this was literally true. She possessed the ability to pick up sounds and vibrations outside of the perceivable spectrum for average humans. It was an ability she had made sure to refine since her episode in Nepal in which she had been nearly blown to pieces by a not-so errant torpedo attack.

She felt the presence of something approaching while she tried desperately to crack another firewall. < Even with Starfleet’s help you’re not going to have enough time. I’m going to try and get you some more by hacking into the bomb. Chief, tell Bobbie to make sure the switch is in place in case I need it. >

The doubt in Masamune’s voice were unmistakable. < You’ve never been able to test it. As far as I’m concerned the whole thing is still mostly theoretical. >
< No time to argue. I’m going to try and “ >
The thing, whatever it was, fired and Mech jumped.

It wasn’t quite fast enough.

It took Mech a moment to realize that she had been hit. Not because of any immediate pain but because her interface to the computer she had been connected to just seconds before was now suddenly gone and so was her comm link with Masamune.

She was lying on the cold hard floor and could tell by her ripped and ruined red dress that she had not been struck by a conventional weapon.

Then she heard it move again and the familiar sound made her realize that she knew exactly what she was up against. It took her a moment to be able to get a visual however. While she had clearly not taken a direct hit, it had nevertheless been powerful enough to severely damage her body and she suddenly found it very difficult to get her arms and legs to carry out the most basic functions.

She was fully cognizant that if she couldn’t re-establish control over her own body within the next few seconds, she’d be done for, unable to survive another hit.

Pure willpower got her back onto her knees and out of the corner of her eye she could see the dark green, bubble shaped AI tank closing in on her, its weapons ports already glowing angrily as it was getting ready to unleash another deadly salvo.

She focused all her thoughts onto one single action. Move.

The tank fired.

And Mech leaped.

She could feel the air all around her turn boiling hot as the unleashed plasma evaporated part of the floor she had occupied just moments ago.

She didn’t have her normal speed and certainly not her usual strength that much seemed certain as she sprinted across the sub-basement, keeping herself roughly perpendicular to the attacking tank.

Outrunning the thing was out of her question in her current condition and even if she succeeded, she’d never clear the building before the bombs went off. She had less than a minute, perhaps ninety seconds to finish off the tank and attempt once more to defuse the bombs. Her chances to achieve that, she had to admit, were negligible but she didn’t let the odds change her course of action. The stakes were too high.

The tank continued to fire, ripping apart support columns, storage crates and anything else that found itself the path of its main gun.

Mech’s plan came to her just as she cornered another pillar which was turned into rubble not a second after she had passed it.

It wasn’t the best plan she’d ever thought off but considering the time restraints, it was better than nothing.

Coming past another beam, she reached out and ripped the bomb that had been attached to it right off its fixture without so much as slowing down. One look at the now throbbing, two-gallon device in her hands confirmed her theory. The thing had been programmed to activate if somebody tempered with it manually.

The high pitched whine was making it unmistakably clear that it would rip itself and anything in the immediate surroundings to shreds momentarily.

Mech made a sharp turn and instead of trying to keep her distance to the AI tank trying to disintegrate her, she headed right towards it. Had she been one-hundred percent she’d easily been able to leap off her feet and land right on top of it. In her current state however she was doubtful she’d make the distance.

So instead she was left playing a deadly game of chicken with the tank, running straight at it and practically looking right down the shimmering blue gun port pointed at her head.

It fired and she went down.

She was pretty sure her hair had caught fire as she rolled underneath the ultra-hot plasma bolt which otherwise appeared to have missed her.

Mech came back up on her feet and found herself just a few meters from the tank which continued to approach her as if it meant to simply roll her over. Too close for another evasive dive but close enough to dare a precise jump.

With what remained of her quickly fading strength, she bent her knees and went vertical, sailing towards her target.

She realized that she had mistimed her assault while she was still mid-air. The bomb in her hand was going to go off any second.

No choice but to follow through now.

She landed dead on target and instantly dropped onto one knee, wedged the bomb harshly between the gun port and the tank’s chassis and then got back up to push herself off and get as far away from the tank as she possibly could.

The bomb detonated before she had cleared as much as three meters.

She shockwave of the explosion cleanly swept her off her feet and back into the air but this time into an uncontrolled tumble. Mech had never been a stranger to pain but what she experienced as she was engulfed in the massive explosion was beyond anything she had ever endured. She could feel her skin melting away even while her mind refused to release her from consciousness.

She screamed in agony and desperation, literally on fire she didn’t feel the impact which would have shattered every single bone in a human body.

Mech desperately tried to focus on a truism which had served her well over the years. Pain is an illusion. In her case this was true more so than with the many people who liked to tell themselves the exact same thing in order to pretend that they could conquer any amount of pain they were exposed to.

Intellectually she completely understood that it was all in her head. Her brain was the only part of her body which was able to interpret the signals which told her that her body was long passed the threshold of being able to function.

This knowledge didn’t make it any easier to bear.

< Mech. >

Lying on the cold floor in a burned and broken husk of a body, certain beyond a shadow of doubt that she was seconds from certain death, she didn’t immediately fathom the voice calling out for her.

< Mech, I need you to focus. >

She tried to respond but it seemed impossible to do anything but lie there in agonizing pain and await the inevitable outcome which would release her form this torment.

< I know you are hurt and that it seems like this is the end but I need you to believe that you can make it. Do you understand? You have to believe you can pull through this? >

< Mother, > Mech thought she heard herself say. At this point she couldn’t be sure of anything. Not the voice in her head, not even the air she was apparently still breathing. < How …? >

< It doesn’t matter how, > she responded. < All that matters is that you believe. That you refuse to give up. You hear me. Do not. Give up. >

The groan coming over what had once been her lips was a clear sign of life. But it was weak. It was the death rattle of a person resigned to die.

< This doesn’t end here, Mech. Not for you. You still have much to do and many who count on you. Including the very men and women still in this building. >

Mother’s voice wasn’t desperate or even demanding or urgent. Instead she spoke in her usual soft and soothing voice. As if all this was already a forgone conclusion. As if she had total faith in Mech’s abilities to overcome her current and terminal state. < Do you believe that? Tell me that you believe. >

It would have been much easier and probably much less painful to dismiss her completely and to simply wait for a few more seconds until the inevitable would come to pass and all the agony would be lifted from her tortured body and mind.

But Mech had never been a quitter and she decided that this was going to be a lousy time to start.

< I … believe. >

And then darkness claimed her.
043 - "The Hard Way Out." by CeJay
043 “ “The Hard Way Out.”


“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

To Tank, the remaining hostages were moving far too slow. Starfleet had finally come through, stopped shooting at them and instead their shuttles were now assisting with the evacuation and yet things were still not moving fast enough.

And it wasn’t just the hostages. Nobody had ever drawn up a plan to try and load up a SAFVe or a Starfleet shuttle for that matter from a blown out window on the 74th floor of a skyscraper.

The first few minutes of the evacuation attempt had been spent in trial and error while trying to figure out how exactly this would work. It had been difficult enough with the SAFVe with its side-opening doors but the Starfleet shuttles were using a back hatch and the window frames had not been quite wide enough to allow the shuttle to actually land within the building.

Instead they had backed up, with their ramps lowered and fully extended until they reached into FedPlaza to create a plank of sorts to lead into the shuttle. There was just enough space for two crafts to dock side by side and allow the terrified hostages to board.

But the pilots found it difficult to keep their vessels entirely steady and most evacuees were far too scared to step onto the extended and seemingly unsecured hatch without assistance.

Tank and the rest of his team as well as the Starfleet officers on the shuttles did their best to prod the men and women along but when one of them slipped and nearly fell to her death, it was obvious that they had to slow things down.

< How much longer to clear the building? > asked Masamune who was watching events from the Starfleet command center far below.

< We’re moving as fast as we can, > responded Jackson Slade. < The Starfleet shuttles are almost filled and then we just need Hot Rod to come back around to pick us up and we’re out of here. Maybe another two minutes. How much time did Mech said we have? >

The chief didn’t respond to that right away and Jackson and everyone else who was listening in had a pretty good idea why. < Not enough. But she said she would try and get us some more if she can find a way to slow it down. >

< Chief, that was before we lost contact with her, >
said Tank. < We don’t know what happened to her. I’ll go down myself and check out the situation. >

< Negative, > Masamune responded. < It’ll take you too long to get down there. I want you to evacuate with the hostages. >

< I can get down there in a few seconds if I use the elevator shaft, >
he said and was already on his way.

“Damn it, Tank, I need you up here, that’s an order,” Slade shouted after him as he saw him heading out.

He took no notice of that. “You’ve got things under control. I need to find Mech.”

It wasn’t until he reached the blown off doors to the elevator that he stopped to look downwards into the ominous darkness of the shaft, considering the best way on how to get to the bottom.

He felt somebody grabbing hold of his arm and he turned around. It was Kara and her eyes were wide with fear and concern. “Please, don’t go.”

He looked at her. “You should be on one of those shuttles.”

She gave him a little smirk. “I’m scared of heights.”

He angrily shook his head. “I don’t care and we don’t have time for this,” he said and grabbed her by the arm, practically dragging her towards the windows.

But before he had even halfway reached the shuttles, he realized that they were already taking off.

“Ok, that’s it,” said Slade as he watched the two pearly-white Starfleet ships glide away from Fed Plaza to take the hostages to safety. < Hot Rod, now would be a good time for a pick-up. >

With all the hostages and most of the CCiD assault team gone, only Slade, Tank, Gavin, Sylvester and Katangai remained inside the seemingly doomed Fed Plaza.

Gavin and Sylvester had made a last, quick round of the upper floor and now came racing down the staircase. “We’re clear,” Gavin shouted, out of breath and fully aware that every second they remained in the building was brining him closer to the chance of never seeing his family again. “Let’s get out of here.”

Hot Rod brought the SAFVe up to the window and the remaining CCiD team quickly embarked.

Gavin felt enormous relief the moment he stepped out of Fed Plaza and onto the shuttle. However Tank and the woman with him were moving far too slowly as far as he was concerned. “Come on, boss, this isn’t a date, you know. Haul ass,” he said but couldn’t quite keep his lips from turn into a little smile.

The frown on Tanks’ face was priceless. “We are going to have a little conversation, once I get on that shuttle,” he hollered back, still dragging Katanagi along who clearly wasn’t too enthused about the idea of having to walk out of the 74th floor window.

That’s when Gavin noticed movement by the bar counter. Somebody was slowly getting up. “Damn it, we left somebody,” he said. “There is still somebody over there.”

Tank stopped and turned around towards the bar. “Son of a bitch,” he said. “Get down.” He pushed the surprised Kara onto the floor and flattened himself on top of her not a moment later, nearly crushing the comparatively tiny woman under his weight.

Gavin spotted his mistake. The man who had come into view was not one of the hostages. He wore a smart dinner jacket with a purple orchid attached to his breast pocket. There was little left of his face. It looked as if he had taken a bullet right through the side of his head, exposing much of the inner circuitry of his artificial brain. And yet, somehow, he had managed to get back onto his feet, holding two disruptor rifles.

“Hostile, hostile!” Gavin desperately tried to bring his own weapon to bear but already knew that he wasn’t going to be fast enough.

The android opened fire.

Thanks to Tank’s quick reaction, the bolts of green energy went straight over his head.

Hot Rod had spotted the danger from the corner of her eye and reacted quickly, jerking the SAFVe upwards.

Sylvester was hit in the leg and went down but with the shuttle now rapidly pulling away, the other rounds slammed into the hull instead of taking out the remaining CCiD agents who had not been able to bring their weapons up in time.

Tank cursed himself loudly for having discarded his assault rifle earlier and now being unarmed. A mistake which would cost him his and Kara Katanagi’s life, he was sure.

But surprisingly the android terrorist did not fire again.

Tank looked up and watched as he slowly rounded the bar counter, taking unsteady steps most likely due to the damage he had taken to his brain. But no matter the extent of his handicap, he kept a firm hold on those two rifles which remained pointed in his direction.

Very slowly, Tank picked himself off the floor. “Stand up,” he whispered to Kara. “Stand up and stay right behind me. Do it, do it now.”

The young woman didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions this time, even though he could tell from her soft sobs that she was incredibly scared. Only moment ago she had thought herself all but safe. All that had been left had been to overcome her vertigo and this nightmare would have finally come to an end. Now it seemed safety was all but an illusion.

Tank slowly tracked backwards, careful to ensure that Kara would follow his movements, while keeping his eyes on the terrorist with the two rifles. “What are you waiting for? What is it you want?” he screamed at him angrily. It wasn’t perhaps the smartest move to provoke the guy with the big guns, but his anger at being caught dead to rights was difficult to ignore.

The man didn’t talk, just stepped closer, taking one wobbly step after the other, almost as if he wanted to make absolutely certain that this time he wouldn’t miss.

< Tank, we’re coming back around in five seconds, get ready to find some cover, > said Hot Rod.

The full-body android dropped his rifles.

Kara peeked past Tanks massive built. “What … what is he doing?”

Tank wasn’t sure himself. The android continued to stumble forward while emanating a high-pitched whine which was quickly gaining intensity. His entire artificial body appeared to be vibrating now.

“Run.”

“What?”

Tank whipped around and once more grabbed hold of her arm. “Run!” he shouted from the top of his lungs and sprinted towards the only way he could.

“It’s a bomb, it’s a goddamn walking bomb!”

Kara ran but slowed down the moment she realized that their only escape was out of the windows.

When the SAFVe showed up again, dropping down suddenly from above, the distance between the shuttle and the building was far to great for Kara to jump.

With an ear-shattering noise, the man with the orchid exploded, ripping apart what remained of his broken body.

The force of the shockwave gripped both Tank and Kara and catapulted them through the air and out of the windows they had been sprinting towards even while they felt the enormous heat burn their skin and singe their hair.

Hot Rod, seeing the approaching fireball mere feet behind the escaping Tank and Kara had only a split-second to make a decision. This time she dropped the SAFVe and not a moment later she heard Tank and the woman smash onto the roof of the shuttle just before the 74th floor exploded outwards in an impressive display of fires and flames and lightning up the San Francisco night sky.

Tank had the wherewithal to hold on as soon as he landed on top of the SAFVe but Kara slid across the smooth surface and across the roof, right towards its edge and already out of Tank’s reach, bound to fall off the other side and plummet to her certain death.
044 - "Not In Kansas Anymore." by CeJay
044 “ “Not In Kansas Anymore.”


Something was very wrong, that much she knew even before she opened her eyes again.

She was lying on something soft and surprisingly comfortable. And while her mind struggled to remember exactly what had taken place over the last few minutes, she was dead certain that soft and comfortable had played no part of it.

When Mech finally opened her eyes she found herself in what looked like a darkened room. She could make out the outlines of furniture; a sizable desk, chairs and of course the sofa she was lying on.

Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness.

Rays of light seemed to be coming from in-between a set of drawn suede curtains by the wall.

She stood slowly, not entirely trusting her balance at first. When she realized that there appeared to be nothing physically the matter with her, she walked over to the red curtains.

She took hold of them and drew them open.

The bright light was blinding and she immediately had to bring her hand up to shield her eyes. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust yet again. She couldn’t remember the last time her eyes had required such a long time to adapt to her surroundings. But then again she couldn’t remember much of anything that had happened before she had awoken just seconds earlier.

She did however recognize what lay beyond those windows.

It was her home.

Nyuchiba City.

The endless sprawl which covered most of the temperate surface of the small planet was unmistakable. City blocks after city blocks and skyscrapers after skyscrapers in every direction underneath a gray-blue sky and a piercing and hot orange sun.

The room she found herself in was in one of those many skyscrapers in which the inhabitants of this world spent the majority of their time. At least the more influential ones did while the poor and unfortunate dwelled in the sub-streets and the slums.

The mechanical wheezing of a machine powering up, forced her turn away form the window.

She found the source of the sound to be a square, wooden box in the corner of the room. It had an inset and curved screen which had just come to life with black and white images.

They were of a man in dark suit and an electric guitar.

She thought she recognized the man.

When she heard his song coming out of the small speaker of the device, she was certain she had heard it before. It was a song about a boy called Johnny who was a gifted guitar player and would someday become a big star. And just like the boy in the song, the man singing the song, strummed that instrument with the skill and rhythm as if he had been born to do it.

It was the most beautiful song she’d ever heard.

And while she wanted to do nothing more than watch and listen to that performance on that little fuzzy screen, something in the back of her mind told her that she had no time for it.

She glanced towards the far wall and found an old-fashioned clock hanging there with a big round clock face and two large hands. The bigger one pointed at two minutes before twelve while the thinner one had just passed the nine.

The hour hand seemed to be missing entirely and the one counting the seconds was running backwards, ticking loudly with each jittery move. The whole thing was clearly broken as three seconds seemed to pass for each second ticking away on that large clock.

The doors opened with a slight creak and Mech whirled around.

“Good, you’re awake.”

The man had a thick mop of dark hair and a confident smile on his lips. He looked to be in his mid-thirties with handsome features and a trim and fit figure. Those sparkling brown eyes hinted towards a wisdom and maturity far beyond his years.

He shot her just a passing look as he walked towards the desk, right underneath that loudly ticking clock and past the television screen, to sit in the high-backed chair behind hit. The desk itself was completely empty.

He looked up at her and then pointed at a chair by the desk.

Mech took a step closer but didn’t sit.

“I imagine you have many questions,” he said. “I am here to give you the answers you seek.”

Go Go Go, Go Johnny Go Go, she heard the man on the screen sing. She knew that song. She knew it by heart.

“See, I’ve been looking for you for quite some time and you have not made it easy for me to find you,” he continued. “Never staying in one place for very long, always covering your tracks on FedNet and taking every effort to stay off the grid.”

It finally clicked. His name was Chuck Berry. He had been a popular rock and roll singer on Earth in the mid-20th century, over three hundred years ago.

“You are a very special young woman, I hope you realize that. Most people would not have been able to evade my seekers for as long as you did. Even though I suspect that you had some help in the matter.”

The loudly ticking clock above his head made it fairly difficult for her to focus. The second hand had just passed the three.

“Was it that troublesome, moon-dwelling Farian? I find it difficult to believe that the likes of you would associate with such common criminal scum.”

The man in the chair. She knew him as well. His name was Michael Gary Grayson. A San Francisco businessman, activist and educator or so he liked to make people think. In truth he was nothing more than a common criminal himself. A stims dealer who peddled the new cybernetic designer drug to bored urbanites when he didn’t hold fiery anti-Federation speeches in what he called his Grayson Institute.

He had hatched a scheme with the help of Starfleet’s Captain Whren to have her killed. That had been the reason she had come to San Francisco in the first place.

But the man sitting behind his desk was not Grayson. Yes, he looked and sounded like him but that was were the similarities ended. She was convinced of that.

“Helcon, I presume?”

He smiled at her.

“Your name keeps coming up wherever I go,” she said, taking another step closer and instinctively reaching behind her back but unable to find her Glock there. “Who exactly are you and why have you been looking or me? Why do you want me dead?”

His smile widened. “My dear, you have entirely the wrong impression. I am not trying to have you killed at all.”

The second hand had now passed the twelve and the minute hand had moved to eleven. Mech was sure the clock was speeding up, the ticking becoming even more noticeable.

“I suppose you just drop quantum torpedoes on your friends on a regular basis then.”

“Ah yes, the incident in Nepal,” he said. “Consider it a test of your abilities.”

“For what purpose?”

“Why to see if you are as good as they say you are. Because if you are, I want you to join me. Together what we can achieve will be bound only by the limits of our imagination.”

She uttered a sarcastic laugh. “Is that it? That’s your sales pitch? I’ve heard more convincing holo-novel villains. I don’t even know who you are or what it is you are trying to do.”

“Who I am is not important. Not yet. And as for what I do?” he said and had that large smile on his face again. “The question should be what don’t I do.”

The song had stopped and Mech turned to look at the television set in the corner. Chuck Berry was gone but another face had appeared in the same washed out black and white colors. It was a woman just passed middle age. She was speaking but Mech couldn’t hear her voice.

Helcon, whoever he was, didn’t appear to notice. “I appreciate that you feel I’m being rather vague and mysterious. But until things are further along, I cannot risk revealing too much at this stage,” he said. “We both know that you are meant for something more than hacking your way through FedNet and chasing after stims dealers. You are special, Mech. Unique. And you could be so much more if you only allow me to show you your true potential.”

“And what would that be?”

The second hand had reached the six.

“Don’t be coy now. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it yourself. You have been going through life like a giant among man. Vastly superior to anyone and everyone you’ve ever met. You have transcended humanity to become something much greater.”

She frowned at that.

“I see you still cling to those sentimental notions of humanity,” he said. “Don’t let it hold you back, Mech. You can be so much more if only you accept what you are.”

< Mech, don’t listen to him. >

She turned to look at the TV. The voice in her head belonged to the woman on the screen. A woman she had met before. The man at the desk, it appeared, wasn’t able to hear or see her.

< You have accessed the Source. Everything you see and hear is merely a construct designed to slow the passage of time. To give your friends a chance to escape the building. >

The building.

Fed Plaza.

Nyuchiban terrorists had taken over the building and taken hostages. She and her team had carried out an assault when she had realized that the entire building had been rigged to explode, killing everyone inside.

“I can help you overcome that last hurdle that is keeping you back. If only you let me.”

She had found the bomb in the sub-basement but before she had been able to try and slow down the countdown she had been incinerated by an explosion.

“If only you agree to join me.”

A voice had reached out for her then just like it did now. Mother’s voice.

< I am still in Fed Plaza, > she said.

< Yes, but not unless you disconnect from the Source. You won’t be able to survive, switch or otherwise, if you stay in the Source after the detonation. >

The second hand had passed the six. It was the countdown. Thirty seconds were all that remained.

“She’s talking to you, isn’t she?”

Mech focused on Helcon.

“Don’t believe her lies,” he said. “Mother has her own secrets and her own agenda. Do you really think she is been helping you all this time solely out of the goodness of her heart. Ask yourself, what do you really know about her?”

Fifteen seconds.

< Mech, trust me when I tell you that you have to get out of there now. >

“I on the other hand will gladly share all my secret with you. All I will need in return is your allegiance and your loyalty.”

Ten seconds.

< How do I do it? How do I get Helcon to let me go? >

< Mech, you misunderstand. You created the construct, Helcon has simply inserted himself to distract you. You are in control. >

Mech stepped up to the desk, placed her palms on the table top and leaned forward. “You have been looking for me all this time, chasing me through the galaxy and tried to kill me to keep me away from whatever it is you have been up to. Mark my words: I will change the rules to your game. Whatever it is. I will be the one chasing you down and exposing your dirty little secrets to the entire galaxy. You were worried about me before? I haven’t even started yet.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m coming for you Helcon.”

And then the world around her ceased to exist.
045 - "And Down It All Goes." by CeJay
045 “ “And Down It All Goes.”


The terrified face of the hostage who had plunged to his death earlier while he had been powerless to stop it, flashed before Tank’s eyes. At the time he had sworn to himself that he would never let anything like that ever happen again. No matter what it would take, no matter if it would mean that he would have to sacrifice himself, he would not let another person get killed right in front of him.

And yet now it appeared that exactly that had happened.

He’d had no choice but to jump with Kara Katanagi out of the window just a second before a massive explosion had annihilated the 74th floor.

He had felt his own clothes singe and burn as the resulting fireball had missed him by mere inches.

The landing had been tough but could have been a lot worse if Hot Rod had not managed to keep the SAFVe steady just a couple of floors below.

The force of the impact had been enough for Kara’s delicate hand to slip out of his and while he had managed to hold on to the edge of the shuttle, she had slid across the roof and gone over it.

“Kara!” he screamed from the top of his lungs, the tone of his voice an equal part of panic and desperation.

He quickly crawled across the roof and looked over the edge.

Katanagi was holding on to a tiny crease at the back of the shuttle with just one hand but her feet were treading nothing but empty air, hundreds of feet above the ground.

Tank didn’t allow himself a sigh of relief. Not yet.

“I … can’t … hold on,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes just as terrified as those of the hostage earlier.

Her grip was slowly slipping and there was nothing else she could hold on to at the back of the SAFV. Reaching the safety of the side-doors was out of the question from her position.

“I’ll come get you,” he said and then turned his head slightly. “Hot Rod, whatever happens, keep her steady, you hear me? Do not move this thing one inch,” he hauled, hoping she could hear him. Comms were still down and he didn’t have the time to crawl to the doors himself.

And Tank was aware of another problem. The building was likely to go up any second now and the SAFV remained far too close to the building, a mere dozen feet or so, to be able to survive the resulting explosion. But if Hot Rod moved now, Kara would most certainly fall.

He firmly took hold of the edge of the roof with one hand and then stretched as far as he possible could, trying to reach her. “Hold on to me.”

Kara looked up at him but very slightly shook her head. “I can’t … I can’t,” she cried. And she was right, the distance was too great and it was physically impossible for her to reach the arm he had extended her way.

“Damnit it,” he said when he realized that he couldn’t get to her this way.

“You may have to… let me go,” she cried with tears shooting in her eyes. “You have to save yourself.”

He looked straight down into her eyes. “I will get to you, you understand. I will not lose you.”

She tried to nod bravely.

The only option that remained was to try and lower himself down towards her and try to support both their weight with his feet alone. But the roof of the SAFVe was fairly slick with very few handholds which would have allowed for such a move.

He didn’t care. Either he would get her or they would both fall. As far as Tank was concerned, there was no third option.

Tank felt a niche just large enough for his boot to hook into and lowered himself towards Kara. It wasn’t much and the smooth material of his boot began slipping out of the niche the moment he tried to support his entire weight on it.

He pushed on regardless.

“I can’t hold on … I can’t hold on anymore.”

He made eye contact with her again. “I will not let you fall.”

Surprisingly she smiled then and she became very still. “I know you won’t.”

Then her fingers slipped free.

He grasped her wrist not a nanosecond later.

“Got you.”

And as if somebody, somewhere had just waited for their cue. Fed Plaza blew up.

It was quite the magnificent sight from where Tank was hanging, head down, from the back of the shuttle.

First came a series of individual explosions far below and seemingly originating within the basement of the building. It was a perfect chain-reaction as one bomb went off after another blowing up geysers of flames and fire dozens of feet into the air all around the skyscraper.

The building began to sway and tremble not a moment later. With its foundation being ripped apart the massive structure was coming down like a house of cards with such a roar, Tank was sure they could hear it all the way in Oregon.

And as Fed Plaza was beginning to fall in on itself a dense plume of dust, smoke and debris came shooting up towards them at breakneck speed.

“Go, go, go,” he screamed as loudly as he could but even then he could barely hear himself over the thunderous noise of a 2,000 feet tall building turning into a heap of trash.

He knew that if the shockwave of the explosion didn’t get them then certainly that quickly approaching dust storm would.

Fortunately Hot Rod had no intentions of staying to find out and the SAFVe shot away from the doomed building. Apparently still aware that she had two souls hanging on for dear life at the back of the shuttle, she quickly angled the nose downwards, taking off some of gravity’s merciless pull to which Tank and Kara were still exposed.

“Climb. Climb.”

With the shuttle’s favorable orientation, she was able to bring up her other hand, hold on to Tank’s body and fairly easily managed to climb upwards almost as if she was trying to navigate a steep hillside. Once she had reached the roof, she helped Tank back up again and the SAFVe quickly leveled out again.

Moments later the MSD agents inside assisted them both to climb through the open side door and into the safety of the shuttle’s main deck.

Kara immediately hugged Tank closely the moment they were inside.

“Are you alright? Have you been injured?” he asked but making no move to disengage from her.

She shook her head and the rested it on his broad chest. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

Gavin and the others watched on with big smiles.

“You guys want to get a room or something?” the rookie agent asked.

Tank freed himself from Katanagi and shot the young agent a venomous glare.

Gavin put his hands up in a defensive gesture.

The inside of the SAFVe was rather cramped with most of the CCiD strike team and some of the hostages all crammed together. Nevertheless Tank managed to get his huge bulk back to the doors for a nearly unobstructed view at the total destruction of what had once been the tallest and most impressive building in the San Fran skyline.

The tower was gone and a thick and seemingly impenetrable plume of dark gray smoke and dust now rose from the site of were the building had once stood, engulfing at least two blocks in each direction.

He hoped the emergency responders and other personnel had been able to evacuate the area in time. But it was somebody else he was concerned about more than anyone else.

“Good news,” said Jackson Slade from the cockpit. “The chief got out alright. The medics are checking him over now and he’ll meet us at HQ shortly.”

“What about Mech,” said Tank. “Did Mech get out?”

But Slade didn’t respond to that.

Tank looked back towards the thick smoke which was already beginning to blow towards the bay, swallowing up one block after the next and not showing any signs of dissipating. < Chief, I hear you are ok. Where’s Mech? Did she get out alright? >

There was no immediate response and there was no way to tell if it was because the comm was down or because Masamune couldn’t and wouldn’t reply.

< Chief, are you there? Are you alright? >

< I’m here Tank. I’m fine. >

< Where’s Mech? >

< Tank, >
he began but then stopped himself.

< Goddamnit, tell me already. Where is she? >

There was another short pause. < She was still inside when the building blew. Tank, I’m sorry but there is no way that she could have gotten out in time. >

With utter frustration he hit the side of the SAFVe so hard, the bulkhead actually buckled and bulged under the impact. “No, no, no! Turn this thing around,” he shouted, causing everyone in the shuttle to flinch and look his way. “Turn this thing around now. We have to go back and get her.”

“We cant go back. Not now,” said Hot Rod. “We have to ““

“I don’t care,” Tank barked. “We go back now and get Mech,” he said and turned towards the cockpit, ready to plow through the people in his way and take over controls of the shuttle himself if it came to that.

Gavin was the first to step into his way and it wasn’t too unlike a man putting himself in front of a runway train. “Tank, calm down, please. We’ve got scared and injured hostages on board. We have to unload them first.”

He came within inches of simply rolling over the young operative but then stopped himself just in time. He looked around and for the first time spotted the faces of all the men and women staring at him. Some of the hostages looked just about as scared as they had when they had been held against their will by those terrorists.

Still frustrated, Tank’s only apparent way to release the rage which was threatening to take him over was to put another dent into the side of the shuttle.

The few minutes it took for Hot Rod to land the SAFVe on top of the Civic Center seemed like hours to him and all the while he kept his eyes trained on what was left of Fed Plaza, trying to get his augmented eyes to peer through the veil of dust with little success.

The shuttle sat down and he was the first person out. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” he said, helping the hostages to disembark and placing them into the care of the medics and MSD officers who had been waiting for their arrival.

No matter his impatience however he did take special care to help Kara Katanagi out of the shuttle. “I hope you find your friend,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“I’ll find her,” he said with a sharp nod.

“Good,” she responded. “And when you do, tell her I want my dress back.”

With Tank’s insistence the shuttle was cleared quickly but before they could take off again, Jackson Slade turned to him. “Tank, listen, I’m sorry as hell for what happened but if the LT was in there when it blew up, there is no chance she could have survived,” he said and indicated towards the rising plume of smoke which now dominated the skies just as Fed Plaza had once done.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know her like I do. She’s too smart and resourceful to get herself killed like that. During the War she escaped things far worse than that,” he shot back.

Gavin turned to him as well. “Even so, we won’t be able to get to the site for at least a few hours,” he said and his deflated tone of voice made it clear that he thought just like Slade did. Any help for Mech would come far too late. “Not until the smoke clears.”

But Tank wasn’t going to have it. “We’ll go back and I don’t care if we can’t see our hands in front of our eyes. I don’t care if we have to turn over every single rock. We go back and we find her.”

Neither Jackson Slade nor Gavin made any move to follow Tank back towards the shuttle.

“We’ll find her. Dead or alive, we’re going to find her,” he added as he jumped back onto the SAFVe were Hot Rod now stood with an equally sad expression on her face.

“There is no need to go back for me.”

Everybody turned upon hearing a surprisingly familiar voice. A voice that belonged to a person who could not possibly have been amongst them.

And yet there she was, seemingly alive and well, without so much as a scratch on her or a strand of hair out of place, leaning casually against a nearby column with that sweet smile of hers decorating those full red lips. “To paraphrase Mark Twain; The reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated. I’m afraid the same cannot be said for Ms. Katanagi’s lovely attire.”

What followed were dozens of disbelieving stares and a whole bunch of gaping mouths.
046 - "For Every Action, A Consequence." by CeJay
046 “ “For Every Action, A Consequence.”


Gavin Thorgood secretly wished that they had taken more time to clean out the SAFVe or used an alternative means of transportation. As it stood he felt it still smelt too much of the blood and sweat of the dozen hostages who had been cramped inside the day before after they had been rescued from the doomed Fed Plaza.

He also wouldn’t have minded a day off after the harrowing events which had culminated in the total destruction of North America’s tallest structure.

Time was of the essence however and so Masamune had tasked his team to tie-up loose ends quickly and before anybody had a chance to make them disappear.

Gavin was supposed to be focused on their mission to raid Grayson’s compound at Half Moon Bay but like the rest of the six-man CCiD team chosen for this assignment, he kept staring at Mech, impossibly sitting on the opposite bench and inspecting the new handgun she had been issued.

“I still don’t get it,” he said. “How does this ‘switch’ work exactly? You’re saying you just beamed your entire consciousness into another body?”

Mech looked up at him and smiled. “That’s not exactly how I would describe the process but essentially, yes, you could say I transferred myself into this body as soon as I realized that I wouldn’t be able to survive the blast.”

“But how is that possible? You’re a human being, aren’t you? How can you just transfer all your memories and your thoughts into another body like that?”

“It’s really all just data,” she responded.

“Data?” he said skeptically, clearly having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea. “How about your soul? Is that just data as well?”

She hesitated at that and judging from her apprehensive facial expression, Gavin immediately wished he hadn’t said that.

“Is it really necessary to start treading into the metaphysical here?” Tank intervened. “Isn’t it enough to know that the LT is back and good as ever?”

“Of course,” Gavin quickly said and then made eye contact with his team leader again. “And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that ““

“It’s alright,” she said interrupting him. “I understand that this will need some getting used to. And I’d be lying if I said that I won’t need some time myself to adjust to this … change,” she said and looked at her raised arm for a moment as if it didn’t really belong to her. “It’s not as if I’ve done something like this before. I mean, not like this. I had used my previous body for a long time and this is as much of change to me as it is to you.”

“I would think more so for you,” said Jackson who had listened in to the conversation and now shot her a quick look which Gavin couldn’t help but notice held at least a little suspicion.

She nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Just so we know what to expect,” said Jackson. “Do you have any more spare bodies lying around for you to jump into?”

“Kinda insensitive here, pal,” Tank said.

But Mech simply smiled and then looked at Jackson Slade. “You mean do I have a warehouse full of bodies like Mr. Black? I wish. For now, this is the only one I have. So try to remember that if I get killed again, I may not come back next time.”

“We’re approaching the compound,” Hot Rod said form the cockpit. “But it looks as if our friends from the Presido beat us to it again.”

True enough Grayson compound overlooking the Pacific was almost entirely surrounded by Starfleet personnel and at least half a dozen shuttles. The officers within the compound appeared to be wearing hazmat suits and were concentrated around the same warehouse which Mech and Gavin had entered the previous day.

“I don’t like this,” said Tank as Hot Rod landed the SAFVe outside the compound and close to Starfleet’s command center.

“I guess the assault just got scrubbed,” said Jackson and holstered his gun.

“Don’t wanna go up against your former buddies, eh?” said Tank to which Slade responded with a glare.

The team disembarked the moment the SAFVe had touched down and a group of Starfleet officers quickly approached.

Gavin recognized the man apparently in charge as Commander Lee, the same man who had intervened during their assault on the factory on Treasure Island. “What are the chances that this is a coincidence?” he asked in a subdued tone.

“Zilch,” responded Tank as he, Gavin, Slade and Mech walked out to meet the Starfleet group.

“It is good to meet you again,” Lee said in the similarly upbeat demeanor he had displayed during their last encounter. “And I hear thanks are in order. Without your efforts the casualty rate yesterday would have been a lot higher than it was..”

“Wanna fill us in on what exactly you’re doing here?” Tank barked, forgoing the pleasantries.

“Ah yes, the man they call Tank,” he said and he looked up at the imposing MSD agent. “Always right to the point.” He turned to Mech. “I understand you lead this team now? Agent McLaren, is it?”

She nodded. “That is correct, Commander. You may call me Mech. And however indecorously, my colleague asked a valid question.”

“Certainly,” he responded. “I wouldn’t want to keep any secrets from you and your people even if you are a long way out of your jurisdiction out here.”

He let that sink in for a moment. He was correct of course.

“We have reason to believe that this area contains undetonated ordinance from the Dominion War. We have sealed off this compound while we investigate?”

“The War? Really?” Tank asked incredulously.

“Afraid so. You may remember the Breen attack on San Francisco. Turns out their aim wasn’t all that great,” he said. “Now, if I may ask, what brings you here?”

Mech responded before Gavin had the chance. “Simply following up on a lead, Commander. However it looks to me as if you have things well in hand here,” she said quickly. “We don’t want to waste your time any further. Have a good day.” And with that she turned around to head back towards the SAFVe. Tank remained for a moment longer, staring down the shorter man, before following.

But before Mech was out of earshot, she turned around once more. “If we had any further questions in regards to what you are doing here,” she said. “Who in Starfleet may we contact?”

“We are here on the orders of Captain Whren, Ms. Mech. I suggest you direct any further inquires to him.”

“I will do that. Thanks again,” she responded and then regrouped with the rest of her team just outside the CCiD shuttle craft, leaning against the closed doors.

“Whren,” said Tank. “Goddamn bastards’ got his fingerprints on everything. I think it is high-time we have a chat with that man.”

Mech shook her head. “I just tried to establish his whereabouts through FedNet. He’s just been re-assigned off Earth according to Starfleet records.”

“That was quick,” said Gavin. “He was here yesterday and he’s off gallivanting the galaxy the next day?”

“So what now?” asked Slade. “We can’t get to the compound and our best lead on who was involved with the Fed Plaza incident has been taken off the board. And I’m not buying into the Starfleet conspiracy theory by the way.”

“There’s a surprise,” said Tank.

“I agree with Jackson for now,” said Mech. “We don’t have enough evidence to suggest that anyone but Whren was involved with Mr. Black and Fed Plaza.”

“How about this Helcon person?” asked Gavin. “You mentioned you’ve come across his name a number of times and that he may be who has been after you personally for a while now.”

Mech nodded. “Whoever Helcon is, I’m more convinced then ever that he’s pulling the strings here. But we know too little about Helcon to be able to go after him. But there is somebody else in this chain of players who is inextricably involved and I think it is time we have a serious conversation with him.”

Tank smirked knowingly. “Now that’s a conversation I’m looking forward to,” he said and hoped back into the SAFVe.


*
*
*


“Mr. President, I want to reassure you that you have the full support of the Council on this. The Federation has been attacked in the most heinous way possible, not by going after Starfleet or a possible military target but by spreading terror on our very home soil and targeting innocent civilians. The culprits have already taken responsibility for this cowardly attack and my colleagues and I agree that they require a swift response.”

President Kentii’la looked up from his desk and at the Efrosian man on the screen. “It is good to know where the Council stands, Mister Speaker, thank you.”

Veltum Jarni dipped his chin. “Thank you, Mister President.”

And with that his image disappeared and the screen turned off, displaying various pieces of fine painted art from all over the Federation instead.

After a moment, the president looked at his advisor. The usually high-spirited Bolian had a dour expression on his face. “Do we have a choice?”

He cleared his throat. “Under normal circumstances, Mister President, I’d say you always have a choice.”

“These are not normal circumstances,” the dark-skinned president responded with an understanding nod.

“Not at all. It’s less than 24 hours after the first terrorist attack on Earth for over 200 years if we don’t count state sponsored incidents. And while San Francisco’s Municipal Safety Department may have been successful in limiting the number of casualties, Starfleet failed at preventing the destruction of Fed Plaza. An event which has been witnessed by billions of Federation citizens as it happened. It was a strong message, sir, and one not easily forgotten.”

The president looked over a padd he had been handed just hours earlier. “FNS already reports that an overwhelming 85% of Federation citizens favor an immediate military response,” he said and then looked at his chief counsel. “I don’t recall polls being available so quickly.”

“These days they are almost instantaneous, I’m afraid. It forces us to take actions, one way or the other, quickly. Any delay can be seen as a weakness.”

The commander-in-chief rubbed his temples. “Sometimes I curse the modern age.”

“There is more,” Sill said, apparently unwilling to give his boss a chance to digest the bad news he had already been provided. “The public response to Ambassador Fujiwara speech has been overwhelming just before Fed Plaza was destroyed. Now people are taking a second look and they are finding that ““

“They are finding that during the War the Federation signed a binding agreement with the Nyuchiban Confederacy that we would provide them with any kind of military assistance in return for their willingness to join our fight with the Dominion,” the president said.

The Bolian nodded. “It was a good plan back then.”

“It was a desperate plan.”

“May that as it be, going back to your original question, sir. No, we do not have a choice.”

Kentii’la nodded and did this just as his speech pattern: Slowly and deliberately.

Sill placed a padd on the large mahogany desk.

The President removed a silver stylus from its elaborately decorated holder and put his signature on the document he had been presented. With a slow and heavy sigh, he replaced the stylus and looked up at the Bolian. “Mister Sill, get Admiral Tessier in here. Starfleet is going to war.”
047 - "No Time To Lose Your Head" by CeJay
047 “ “No Time To Lose Your Head.”


Not wanting to play second fiddle to Starfleet again, Mech had decided to move quickly. Bobbie Case has already confirmed, after further analysis of the data chip Mech had retrieved from Mister Black’s destroyed body, that he had indeed visited the Pyramid at 600 Montgomery a number of times over the last few months and even better, she had been able to pinpoint his movements to the very floor which occupied the Grayson Institute.

It was enough for a search warrant.

“This has been a long time coming,” said Tank as he along with Mech, Gavin, Jackson and two uniformed MSD agents stepped into the elevator on the ground floor.

“Considering your history with this place it may be a good idea to let me do the talking,” said Jackson.

“History?” he shot back with disbelief. “Last time I got here I had the man on the ropes. Had you not interfered, we may have nabbed Mister Black then and avoided this entire mess.”

“We had no evidence linking those two to each other and ““

“We had all the evidence we needed to nail that bastard.”

“I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you live in but ““

Mech raised her hand, stopping Jackson Slade from infuriating Tank any further. Not that he wasn’t already beside himself with anger at the insinuation. “Gentlemen, let’s continue this another time, shall we?”

The two men glared at each other but then hesitantly showed their consent by nodding their heads slightly.

“I still think it be better if I talk to him,” said Jackson. “Grayson is still an influential person in this city and all we have is a search warrant, nothing against him personally.”

“You do the talking, I toss the place,” Tank said.

Gavin shot the LT an apologetic look, letting her know that he was well aware of the two agent’s combative attitude towards each other and that there was little anyone could do about it.

She smirked at that and the team spend the next ten seconds listening to the god-awful elevator music in silence.

Tank was the first man out as soon as the doors parted. “You know he’s got that tune playing in there on purpose,” he growled. “It’s psychological torture. For that alone he should be thrown in jail.”

The row of six seemingly identical receptionists dressed in identical uniforms immediately raised their heads upon sensing the new arrivals. “Welcome to the Grayson Institute of Learning and Enlightenment,” said the first receptionist. “You have made the first step on your journey for truth,” said the second one in the exact same voice. “Would you like to sign-up for one of our complimentary exploratory lectures?” said the third.

“Can it ladies, we’ve got a search warrant for this dump and we ain’t leaving until we found what we’re looking for,” Tank barked at them.

The receptionists dropped their smiles in favor of confused expressions, first looking at each other than back up at the MSD agents. “How may we be of assistance?” they asked with that smile again.

“I’ll take care of this,” said Gavin and then produced the padd with the official court order document.

“Grayson’s office is this way,” said Tank and led the rest of the team down an elaborately decorated corridor. He found the two large wooden doors with the matching set of polished golden handles with little difficulty but before he could reach out for them, Slade pushed past him.

“As agreed, I do the talking,” he said and then knocked at the door.

Tank rolled his eyes. “Why not give him a chance to hide all the evidence while you’re at it?”

But the doors opened within seconds, swinging inwards and allowing the team to enter the spacious corner office overlooking downtown San Francisco and a gaping hole just a few blocks down the road where the imposing Fed Plaza had once stood. The remains were not visible from this angle but the haze surrounding the side gave proof that they were still smoldering.

Michael Gary Grayson sat behind his expensive desk and quickly stood when he noticed the law enforcement officers enter his office. “Lady. Gentlemen. Welcome to the Grayson Institute. How may I be of assistance?” he said with an inviting smile.

“Game’s up, buddy,” Tanks said straight away. “We’ve got a search warrant to toss this place and whatever we find will be used against you.”

Jackson Slade shot the huge agent a withering look of which he took no notice before focusing on Grayson. “My colleague is quite correct, I’m afraid. We have reason to believe that you have been in contact with a criminal element linked to the illegal stims trade in this city and the destruction of Fed Plaza last night.”

“I have nothing to hide. Please go ahead and carry out your search,” he said, putting his arms far apart and keeping that same smile plastered on his face.

“Like we need your permission,” Tank mumbled and went to work, inelegantly dismantling a nearby leather sofa and carelessly throwing the cushions on the floor.

Gavin joined his team members and then helped Tank and the two officers search the office, doing so much more carefully then Tank.

“Would you like to step outside while we search your office, sir?” said Slade.

The man shook his head but refused to let go of that now irritating smile. “I prefer to stay right here so that I may assist you as needed.”

Tank grunted upon overhearing that but suppressed another comment.

Grayson, dressed in his smart business suit, turned his attention to the LT who had remained by the door, watching the man carefully but otherwise not making a single move. “You must be Mech. I have heard much about you but we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting until now.”

“That is not correct,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?” He said, still smiling.

“We have met before.”

“Is that so? I would really rather think that I would recall meeting such and extraordinary individual as yourself.”

“Perhaps that is because you went under a different name then,” she said.

“I’m afraid I do not know what you are referring to.”

“You used the name Helcon.”

At that the other CCiD agents stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Mech and then Grayson.

“I’m not familiar with that name,” he said after a very short pause.

“What if I told you that I have reconsidered your offer?”

“What offer?” Tank asked, clearly confused as to where Mech was taking this conversation. The others were clearly not following either.

Grayson’s smile wavered.

In one fluid and uninterrupted motion that she had long since perfected, she freed her weapon form the holder attached sideways to the small of her back, brought it up and aimed it straight at Grayson’s head with two hands.

“Mech?” Tank asked, not understanding what had prompted this sudden action.

The others also drew their guns but pointing them at Mech instead, after she had clearly drawn down on an unarmed Grayson, seemingly entirely unprovoked.

“I don’t know what’s going one here,” said Slade. “But I need you to lower your weapon. Now.”

She didn’t comply. Instead she kept her steely gaze and her gun pointed at Grayson’s head who in turn simply smiled at her as if this was all extremely hilarious.

“Mech, what are you doing?” asked Tank who ultimately felt compelled to draw his weapon as well and then very hesitantly aimed at her. “Please, talk to us.”

But she didn’t.

“I’m giving you exactly three seconds to lower your weapon or we will take you down,” said Jackson, his voice firm as steel as if he had always known that sooner or later this woman might snap. A possibility which had become even more worrisome since surviving a skyscraper collapsing on top of her by transferring her consciousness into a new body.

“Mech, please, just lower your gun and let’s talk about this,” Tank implored but didn’t miss the fact she was paying no attention to the five men who had their guns trained on her now. Her only focus was Grayson, who simply returned her intense look but keeping just as mum as she did.

“Three,” Slade began. “Two.” He took a small step towards her, possibly hoping to be able to get to her gun and disarm her that way. “On-“

Mech fired twice, hitting Grayson between the eyes and in the forehead and forcing his body to jerk backwards suddenly and hit the large glass panes of the window which cracked noticeably before collapsing into a heap.

Gavin and the others were too shocked to open fire and Mech didn’t give them much of a chance.

She immediately raised her hands into the air, demonstrating that she had no intentions of shooting the gun again.

“My God,” Gavin said with utter disbelief and then quickly headed towards were Grayson had been cut down.

Slade needed a moment himself to collect himself but once he had he stepped up to Mech who offered no resistance while he removed her gun. He made sure to keep his own weapon trained on her and have the uniformed officers provide cover, knowing full well of her skills.

Gavin didn’t need long to realize that something was very wrong about Grayson’s lifeless body. For the fact that he had taken two 9mm duranium slugs right into the front of his cranium from just a few meters away, there was a suspicious lack of blood. In fact he couldn’t find a single drop. Instead the wounds were pouring out a slimy white substance. Gavin had seen this before.

He stood and looked at the others. “He’s an android,” he said, hardly believing his own words.

“What?” Tank said and then quickly joined him to confirm this seemingly crazy theory. “I’ll be damned,” he said when the evidence became undeniable. Then his lips curled up into a smile as he made eye contact with Mech who still had her hands up and was being held at bay by three guns pointed at her. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

She gave him that sweet smile of hers but didn’t say anything else.

“It doesn’t change anything,” said Jackson Slade and then looked at the LT. “You are under arrest.”


*
*
*


Tessier read through the padd a second time just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Re-reading the document did nothing to lessens the frown edged on her face.

“I’m surprised, Admiral, I would have expected greater enthusiasm from you considering your stance in this matter,” Sill said with his typical smile.

The Starfleet flag officer looked up from the padd and aimed a dark look towards the Bolian presidential counsel. “I don’t know what you think of me, Mister Sill, but I am not a warmonger. Was I furious that these bastards blew up the Tripoli killing hundreds of Starfleet officers? You bet. Am I enraged that they struck our home soil and took down Fed Plaza? Of course. That doesn’t mean that I’m looking forward to committing Starfleet to an operation that is bound to cost us a great many lives.”

“Nobody here is implying that you were hoping for this outcome, Admiral,” President Kentil’aa said from behind his desk.

“Of course not,” said Tessier, trying hard to keep her tone free of sarcasm and then stood from her chair. “For what it is worth, sir, I agree that this is our best option for now. Of course I will have to review the details with Quinerzos and Intelligence but from the reports I have read so far, I do not doubt the Nyuchiban estimates.”

“The President and I agree that it is essential that we do not delay our response. The Council has already given its full approval of these actions,” Sill said.

The Starfleet admiral gave the counsel a surprised look. It wasn’t like the Federation Council to move quickly on anything. In her experience it was usually a slow and sluggish administrative behemoth that needed weeks, if not months to make a final decision on anything.

“We were astonished as you are, Admiral,” Sill added with a smirk. “The motion passed this morning 142 to 12. The Council is clearly bowing to public pressure on this one.”

“I would hate the idea that we are committing ourselves onto this course because it’s what the public wants us to do,” Tessier said.

“I understand your hesitation, Admiral, but rest assured that we have debated this issue at great length and come to the conclusion that this action is, indeed, in the best interest of the Federation and its allies,” said the president slowly. If he resented the implication that he was rushing them into war, he didn’t show it.

Tessier nodded respectfully. The irony of this situation wasn’t completely lost on her. Only a few days earlier she had stood in this very office, trying to convince the leader of the Federation that their best option on Asuka III was a military intervention. Now it was the President and his advisor, as well as the Council itself, who were proposing the very thing they had been so vehemently against. And it was Tessier who appeared to be the one requiring convincing.

Things had suddenly moved much too fast for the young and usually ambitious admiral. It wasn’t that she was entirely opposed to a strong response to recent events but the dust in San Francisco hadn’t even settled yet. And whenever she closed her eyes she could still see that massive tower come tumbling down while she had been helpless to stop.

She had seen many Starfleet ships and facilities destroyed by the enemy in her career and it had always been a painful experience. But somehow the destruction of Fed Plaza had hit a different nerve all together. Similarly to the cowardly Breen attack on Earth during the War, they had targeted their home soil. And while the body count was nowhere as high as it had been in the previous attack, this one felt much more like a sucker punch. An attack not just on Starfleet and its people but on the entire Federation by an unseen and mostly unknown enemy.

It had been a wake-up call for billions of Federation citizens who suddenly feared that no place in the galaxy remained safe from unprovoked terrorist attacks. The Federation had been whipped into a frenzy overnight.

In her experience it was never a good idea to make decisions while riding the emotional highs of anger and hysteria.

“Now this bring us to the more practical issue of implementation,” said Sill. “We are all aware that Starfleet is still recuperating from their wartimes losses and nowhere near ready to mount an operation of this scale within the timeframe that we have in mind. We have discussed other possibilities such as bringing in other allies such as the Klingons. Ultimately we felt that to be problematic considering the limited control we may exert on such a force.”

Not to mention that it be a PR nightmare, Tessier thought. Newsfeed images of blood-lusty Klingons wantonly slaughtering every target of opportunity would be all we need.

“We have even considered using mercenary forces on Asuka III operating under direct Starfleet authority. However that option would require us to expend a great amount of resources which we simply cannot afford,” the Bolian continued.

And seeing how using mercenary forces and the FWA got us into this mess in the first place.

“Which really only leaves us our original option of utilizing Starfleet to pacify Asuka III.”

Tessier glanced at her padd again. “The Nyuchibans report suggests that at least three hundred eighty thousand troops would be required to completely pacify the planet and stop the spread of violence within the confederacy,” she said and looked up. “That’s not to far off my initial estimates of four hundred fifty thousand troops,” she added and then shook her head. “But either way, we simply don’t have that many men to spare. Combat-trained or otherwise.”

She found both the president and Trelu-Chi Sill looking at her expectantly and she had an inkling as to why that was.

“Are there any suggestions you could bring to us that would allow Starfleet to commit the level of troops required for this operation?” Sill asked.

Admiral Selina Tessier was weary of political games and she couldn’t help wonder if they were recording this conversation just so that they could pull it out of their back pocket if things went horribly wrong somewhere down the line. She knew exactly what they wanted. After all she had made that proposal not a week earlier in this very office only to be shot down at the time. But they wanted her to bring it to them. Again.

“Mister President,” she said as formally as she could. “I may have a suggestion.”
048 - "South Of the Border." by CeJay
048 “ “South Of the Border.”


“I have asked the Starfleet Commander-In-Chief, Admiral Quinzeros, what he will require to meet the mounting aggression on Asuka III. He has told me and I as well as the Federation Council are determined to meet his needs.

I have today ordered to Asuka III eight Marine Expeditionary units and other Starfleet forces which will bring our fighting strength to approximately 24,000 with additional forces required in the second stage of Operation Starlight.

In order to fully meet Starfleet requirements and limit our own casualties, I have approved a plan that will make available certain highly-advanced and entirely artificial fighting units to be deployed alongside our Starfleet and Marine troops.

I am confident that this task force, along with our Nyuchiban allies will successfully identify and eliminate the belligerent elements based on Asuka III within a swift and realistic time frame which will minimize Starfleet and allied casualties, civilian and military, alike.

My fellow Federation citizens. We send today a strong message to everyone in the galaxy with plans or ambitions to hurt or attack us in any way or form. We send a message that we will not tolerate unprovoked attacks and terror perpetrate on our soil or against our allies.

As your President I make to you this solemn pledge: Those responsible for the cowardly attack on San Francisco will be found and brought to justice. After today there will be no place left in the galaxy safe to hide.”

“Hit me again.”

But the barkeeper didn’t seem to be paying attention to her. Instead, like everyone else in the bar he seemed to be glued to the large monitor which carried the live feed from Paris.

Mech wasn’t watching. She didn’t have to. It was running through her internal enhancer at the same time and truth be told, she had already expected something like this.

It had been the talk of town, the entire planet really, ever since Fed Plaza had come down. People were angry and wanted somebody to pay for what had been allowed to happen at the very center of the Federation were most had considered themselves to be entirely safe from such unspeakable things as terrorist attacks.

She had seen this kind of thing before on Nyuchiba and how citizens with high ideals and supposedly moralistic values suddenly turned into warmongering hawks out of fear and anger.

What she hadn’t expected and what even the president had tried to gloss over was the way Starfleet would fight this battle. She doubted many of the people in the bar had taken notice but Mech understood perhaps better than anyone else what this meant. This would be an entirely different kind of war.

And yet, revolution or not, war or otherwise, all she wanted was another shot of tequila.

“Hey barkeep, you’ve got a thirsty customer over here,” she barked at the man behind the counter.

He hesitantly turned away from the screen and looked at Mech and then the row of a dozen or so empty shot glasses littering the counter in front of her. “I think, perhaps you’ve had enough, senorita.”

She looked him square in the eye. “Do I look like I’ve had enough? Tell me, do I appear in the least bit inebriated to you? Because if I do, by all means cut me off from the supply. But I’m not feeling anything here, not even the slightest buzz which leads me to believe that either your so-called liquor is nowhere near as potent as you have claimed or that I haven’t consumed nearly enough of it.”

The bartender frowned and then got out another bottle of tequila. “There is no question to the potency of my liquor,” he said, sounding at least slightly offended. “In fact this stuff has been outlawed in the majority of the Federation.”

She shot him a smile. “That’s why I come here.”

The Mexican barkeeper purred the clear liquid into another shot glass. “You want to know what I think, senorita?” he said, “I’m starting to think you are a fenómena de la naturaleza on who El Fuego del Diablo has no effect.”

Mech took the glass and downed the hot liquid in one gulp. “I assure you, naturaleza has little to do with it,” she said as she placed the glass back onto the counter but never taking her fingers off of it. The implication obvious.

The bartender smiled. “I admit, you are about the prettiest fenómena ever to come through my doors,” he said and refilled her glass.

“Careful now,” she said before she downed another shot. “Wouldn’t want to be seduced by the devil now, would you?”

“In your case, senorita, I may make an exemption even for el diablo.”

“You keep those shots coming and perhaps you get your wish,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“The senorita has had enough.”

The bartender turned to find a short, elderly gentlemen of seemingly South Asian descent walking up to the counter with the assistance of an elaborate ivory topped cane.

“What is it to you, vejestorio?

The man flashed a badge.

The bartender quickly removed the bottle of the illegal beverage and nodded. “I think you may be correct, senior,” he said and shot his thirsty customer an apologetic shrug before beating a retreat.

“You realize you have no jurisdiction here,” she said without making eye contact with Tessho Masamune as he sat on the bar stool next to her.

“I do,” he said. “But I doubt he did.”

“You hear the news?”

The MSD chief nodded. “Hard to miss,” he said and glanced at the large monitor on which the president was just finishing up with his speech which committed the Federation to a war within the Nyuchiba Confederacy. A place which had been home to both of them once.

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Masamune reached over to snag away the last filled shot-glass in front of Mech and then without hesitation, brought it to his lips and emptied it.

She shot him a surprised look.

“Ah,” he said. “El Fuego del Diablo. Burns in all the right places.”

“Chief, what are you doing here?”

“I think this is one of the last places on Earth where you can get your hands on this stuff,” he said and forcefully brought the glass back onto the counter.

She shook her head. “That’s why I’m here,” she said. “Why are you?”

He stood and gestured towards a corner booth and away from the handful of patrons who were mostly assembled close to the monitor broadcasting the president’s speech.

The LT got up and followed him into the booth, sitting across from Masamune.

“You understand that you were not supposed to leave the city,” he said.

She raised her hand to show him her wrist. “They put a sub-dermal transponder under my skin which I’m sure is what you traced to find me here. If I wanted to escape do you really think I wouldn’t have been able to get rid of it?”

He shook his head. “No. I know for a fact you could have done that.”

“So, you’ve come to bring me back?”

“I’ve come to tell you that the DA is not pressing charges. The Grayson Institute, what’s left of it without Grayson that is, has decided to play this whole thing quietly. They don’t want to draw any attention to the fact that their esteemed leader has been missing and replaced by an android.”

“It seems to me you didn’t have to come in person to tell me that.”

“You’re right,” he said. “But I wanted to give you this.” He looked around for a moment to make sure nobody was paying them any undue attention and then reached into his coat to reveal a black and silver handgun. He placed it on the table in front of her.

The Glock looked badly scratched but otherwise appeared to be in tact.

“They found it during the clean-up at the Fed Plaza site. I was surprised it didn’t get incinerated in the blast. I know it has sentimental value to you. Not sure how a gun can do that though.”

She picked up the weapon, racked it, ejected the empty magazine and then slid it back into place.

“I had it cleaned up as best as possible but you may want to check it out some more before you start shooting it again.”

She nodded with appreciation and the tucked it away. “Thanks.”

“Now, do you want to tell me why you are hiding yourself away in a dive bar in Mexico, consuming an unnatural amount of illegal alcohol which we both know has absolutely no affect on you?”

She considered this for a moment, letting her gaze wander across the dingy establishment. “Do you know what Gavin asked me after I shifted bodies?”

He shook his head.

The LT looked him straight in the eye. “He asked if my soul had been transferred as well.”

“You can’t blame them for being surprised by what you’ve done. It may not have been the first ever consciousness transfer but it certainly is not something people are used to. Even I haven’t come completely to grips with the idea and I knew about the possibility before hand.”

“That’s not my point,” she said. “He talked about my soul, Tessho. How do I even know I still have one?”

Masamune took a deep breath. “Is that what you’ve been doing. Trying to reassert your humanity by attempting to get drunk?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Trying to feel something, I suppose.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that. Not for you. You couldn’t intoxicate yourself as much as you could try to draw blood from this body of yours. I understand what you are going through, I really do. But what makes you human isn’t your body or even your brain. And your soul? That’s far too much of a metaphysical concept for us to tackle in a rundown Mexican bar at the end of happy hour. Do you want to know what makes you human, Mech? It’s your thoughts and your actions. It’s what you do and why you do it. It’s your concern for your fellow man and your dedication to protect them from harm even if it means putting your own existence on the line. Just like when you did when you bought your team and those hostages precious seconds to get out of Fed Plaza in time. That’s what makes you human.”

She smirked at that. “I guess I’ve been wasting a lot of perfectly good booze then, huh?”

“There are some people here who may appreciate it more.”

The doors to the bar opened and Mech turned to see the rest of her team enter. Gavin, Tank, Bobbie, Sylvester, Hot Rod, Eldex and even Jackson Slade.

She shot Masamune a puzzled look. “What’s going on?”

“We want you to come back,” he said. “Now that you’ve been cleared of all charges there is no point in hiding yourself away anymore.”

Mech shook her head. “I told you when we first started that this was going to be a temporary gig for me.”

“I remember. But let me ask you this? You are out here, all by yourself, doubting your own humanity and trying in vain to drink yourself under the table. Do you really think you’d be better off on your own? Or don’t you agree that perhaps being surrounded by people who can reaffirm that you have a true and important purpose in life would be the better choice for you at this juncture?”

She looked unconvinced.

“And from what we’ve established, the person behind everything that has happened over the last few days and who has been trying to have you eliminated is still out there, still planning and scheming to purposes unknown to us. What we do know is that Helcon remains a dangerous threat to you and to possibly the entire Federation as well.”

“Even more reason not to put anyone else in danger as I go after him,” she said.

He nodded. “Sure, I supposed it would be safer that way. But think of this. Helcon knows of you, has been targeting you all this time. Which seems to imply that he is ready for you. He is not prepared for the entire resources of CCiD coming after him.”

She thought about that for a moment.

“Hey LT,” Tank shouted at her from across the bar. “What’s good here?”

Mech turned to face him. “Try El Fuego del Diablo,” she responded. “But make sure to keep Bobbie away from it. I think she may be too young to get her stomach pumped for alcohol poisoning.”

Case shot the woman a petulant look.

“Come on, barkeep, you heard the lady,” barked Tank. “Bring out the good stuff.”

But the man behind the counter seemed hesitant now that he knew that he had the law in his establishment.

“I better go and see to the team before somebody starts a brawl because they can’t get their hands on hard liquor. Last thing we need is to get in hot water with the local authorities,” she said and then stood and headed towards the bar.

Masamune knew he had his answer.
049 - "What's It All About, Mech?" by CeJay
049 “ “What’s It All About, Mech?”


Admiral Selina Tessier stepped into her office and was immediately handed a padd by her assistant. She had known that her life would change quite significantly ever since the president had made his intentions clear in regards to Asuka III.

While she may not have been the highest ranking flag officer in Starfleet or even the most experienced one, there was no denying that as the primary liaison to Paris, she more than anyone else in San Francisco, had the administration’s ear. And it had been her own strategy that had been chosen in what was now being referred to as Operation Starlight.

It would be the single largest Starfleet combat mission since the end of the War and the first time forces would be deployed on such a large scale on foreign soil. It was an almost unthinkable scenario for Starfleet and the Federation and Tessier had no doubt that it would be subject to great criticism and controversy, even if recent events had swayed both public and political opinion in favor of such an undertaking for the moment.

Now it would be up to her to make this work.

“That’s fine, Jack,” she said as she looked over the padd. “I need you to schedule meetings with the C-n-C, the Commander, Starfleet, Commander, Marines and the Chief of Starfleet Operations. And I don’t care if they have previous commitments already, this takes precedent to everything else.”

The young lieutenant nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“But first, get me Yaridian on the line.”

Another nod before the adjutant took back the padd and then rushed out of the office to carry out his orders.

Tessier sat in her high-backed chair behind her desk and allowed herself to take a deep breath before facing the one person who would make Operation Starlight possible.

“I have Yaridian for you, ma’am,” the voice of her assistant advised.

She turned the desktop computer to face her and activated it by tapping a control panel.

The middle-aged man with the long gray hair and thick beard smiled at the admiral good-naturedly. “Selina, I understand we are ready to proceed?”

She frowned at that, not appreciating that this man, even though many hundreds of light-years away, always appeared to know exactly what was happening before he should have had any right to. “Starlight has been given the go-ahead,” she confirmed.

He nodded. “Good. Good,” he said and then looked away from the screen for the moment. “I can provide the first shipment of 50,000 units within fourteen days and then phase two within twenty-one days. I trust you will be happy with these to be delivered directly to Asuka.”

She considered that for a moment and then nodded. “That would expedite matters. I will need to have my specialists go over the units first of course.”

“You have had months to study all the specs and the prototypes,” he said with that same fatherly smile. “Almost sounds as if you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not a matter of trust, Yaridian. This is an unprecedented move for Starfleet and we are expanding a great amount of resources to make this work. We have to be absolutely certain of the quality of the product to satisfy all involved parties.”

“Naturally,” he said. “And let me say again that I am very pleased to be dealing with you and the Federation. I don’t even mind that I may have been able to get a better price with a different buyer, I just much rather deal with you.”

“And I appreciate this,” she said and then after a moment she added. “Now, mind telling me how come you already appeared entirely aware of the decisions I myself have only learned a few hours ago?”

“My dear, Admiral,” he said. “Some would call me an inventor, a scientist and a business man but first and foremost I am a futurist. And the only way to be successful at that fine trade is by anticipating events and decisions before they happen. I do this by studying all factors which may influence events until I arrive at an inescapable conclusion of what will come next. I predict the future, if you will.”

“And what? You’re never wrong?”

“Rarely, my dear Admiral. Rarely.”

Tessier couldn’t quite dispel the suspicious look on her face. Then she finally nodded. “I suppose your keen foresight comes to our advantage. I shall contact you shortly with further details about shipment. Starfleet out.”

His image blinked away and Selina Tessier leaned back in her chair, starring at the now blank monitor.

She had just overseen and approved the single greatest shift in Starfleet operations in its entire history. For all her hard work and lobbying to get to this point, she felt surprisingly ambiguous about what she had done.


*
*
*


“And this is our training facility,” said Masmune as he showed his Bolian visitor the currently rather unimpressive holodeck.

“Very interesting,” said Trelu-Chi Sill as he looked around the empty room before he turned back to the MSD chief. “This is a very interesting facility you have here as well as a very capable team.”

Masamune nodded. “Forgive me for asking, sir, but I have a feeling you didn’t come all the way out here just to tour our building.”

The Bolian considered Masamune for a moment and then nodded. “You are quite correct of course. The truth is that there are a number of individuals in the administration who have been rather impressed by your teams’ action during the Fed Plaza situation. We may have lost the building but if it hadn’t been for CCiD, the loss of life would have been much higher. You succeeded were Starfleet failed.”

“It was regrettable that we weren’t able to work together more closely during that incident,” he said and then gestured towards the doors.

The two men left the holodeck and walked down the hallway to head back towards Masamune’s office.

“Indeed,” the Bolian counsel to the president said. “Thankfully I was able to pull a few strings on short notice to get the UEDA to step in and assist you in the evacuation efforts before the explosion.

Masamune shot the taller man a sidelong glance. “That was your doing? I appreciate that.”

He waved that off. “Not at all. It is that kind of cooperative working spirit that the President values and would like to see more of in the future.”

They reached the office and stepped inside. The chief moved behind his desk while the Bolian remained on the other side. “It makes sense. Of course it is not always an easy proposition with so many different agencies working at cross-purposes,” he said as he set down.

Sill took a seat also. “That’s one of the reasons for my visit. Recent events have shown that Earth is much more vulnerable to terrorist attacks than we previously anticipated. Especially those of a cybernetic nature.”

“I would have to agree with that assessment.”

“To cut right to the chase, as they say, the administration feels that we need a more proactive institution to protect Earth from these kind of attacks.”

Masamune aimed a suspicious look at the man. “What do you have in mind?”

The Bolian lips drew a wide smile, showing off rows of pearly white teeth standing in sharp contrast to his azure colored skin. “We want your team to take on a more global role, Mister Masamune. I have already spoken to the Lady Major and while she wasn’t exactly happy about losing your vast law enforcement expertise, she agreed with me that your team could do much good on a larger scale.”

The chief nodded slowly. “I would require additional resources and I would request that we keep our base of operations here in San Francisco.”

The Bolian stood. “I think that can be arranged,” he said and offered Masamune his hand.

The chief left this chair as well and shook hands with the presidential counsel.

“I think this is going to work out great. I will make sure that I get somebody to be in touch with you soon to work out the details but I’m confident that we are doing the right thing here for the good of the planet,” he said, still wearing that wide smile.

Masamune nodded.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mister Masamune,” he said. “I’ll find my own way out.”

“The pleasure was mine, sir.”

The Bolian turned and headed for the exit.

“Mister Sill?”

The counsel stopped and turned around.

“Whom would this new agency answer to exactly?”

“You would answer directly to the Office of the President,” he said, still smiling. “You never know, you just may have met your new boss.”


*
*
*


Mech found her were they had met the last time, inside the Japanese Tea Garden inside the sprawling Golden Gate Park.

She was kneeling next to a small koi pound, feeding the fishes which eagerly nibbled off her delicate fingers.

Mech stepped up a few feet behind her and watched the school of colorful carp excitingly dash back and forth across the pond while the elderly, white haired woman made sure that every single one would get its turn.

“I’m glad you made it out of there alive,” she said without getting up or turning her head.

“Not all of me did.”

The woman shook her head. “You lost a body,” she said. “That’s all. You preserved what really matters.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten out without your help. Helcon was clearly planning on keeping me trapped in my own fantasy until it was too late. Either that or convince me to join his cause.”

“I don’t think you were ever in danger of crossing over to his side,” she said.

But Mech wasn’t entirely sure of that. Something about Helcon had seemed very familiar to her even if she had been unable to know exactly what that was. Whatever it had been, she would have been lying to herself if she claimed that she hadn’t been at least a little bit curious.

And his promises to unleash powers which were buried deep inside her had been tempting. It was impossible to ignore that they existed. Especially now since she had pulled off one of the most amazing feats of her life by transferring her own consciousness into an entirely different body.

“He claimed to know you,” she said, trying to refocus her thoughts.

Mother stood and dusted off her dress. “Did he now?”

“And he warned me about you. Claiming that you have your own agenda where I’m concerned.”

She smiled at that. “We all have agendas, Mech. Even those who tell you otherwise.”

“I know.”

“Are you’re worried that you’re playing for the wrong team?”

Mech shook her head. “Whoever Helcon is,” she said, “his aims clearly involve terror and destruction. He must be stopped. But I want you to tell me what you know about him. The truth and no riddles this time.”

She nodded and began to walk down the beautifully manicured walkway with Mech quickly joining her by her side. “I agree that you deserve the truth but regretfully I cannot tell you who Helcon is. I’ve been trying to find out myself over the last few years, ever since I first encountered his name on FedNet. What I do know is that he controls vast resources and that he sees you as a potential threat.”

“Why?”

“Because of what you can do, of course. Because whatever his plans are, he believes that you are the one wildcard which may stand in his way. That’s why he has been coming after you like he did. And he will continue to try to either convince you to join him or eliminate you. Those are his only two options.”

They halted on top of the high arching Drum Bridge.

“His overall objective,” Mech began. “It has to do with Nyuchiba, doesn’t it? He was behind Fed Plaza and as a direct result he has single-handedly managed to commit the Federation to a war far outside its own borders.”

Mother nodded as she glanced at the still watery surface below. She dropped a small stone into the water which quickly caused ripples flowing across the entirety of the pond. “It’s without doubt his opening move,” she said. “As to what he’s truly after, that will be for you to figure out. I just hope that once you learn of the real nature of his game, it won’t be too late to stop it.”
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