Precipice

“Did the transaction log identify who paid him?”

“It was a corporate entity,” Desai said. “Cygnar-Ralon Interstellar Shipping. CRIS for short. His Tammeron account is registered to Syanok Import-Export, but I’m proceeding on the assumption that CRIS is his original Orion business entity.”

“Probably a shell company,” Jackson said. “Typical cover for a middleman. Moving the money from one bank to another is the perfect laundering method. All we need to do now is find out where his Orion company gets its money.”

Deflating a bit, Desai said, “That’s the brick wall, Haniff. Technically, there’s nothing illegal about Syanok’s business arrangements. As I predicted, the Orion government has refused to enforce my subpoena, and his bank has refused to release any private account information. Also, the Orion ambassador to the Federation has lodged a formal protest over our attempt to violate the privacy of one of its citizens.”

Jackson shook his head and flashed a wide smile. “They do love overkill, don’t they? They can’t just say no; they have to make an interstellar incident out of it.” His good humor faded quickly, and he slammed a fist into his open palm. “Dammit, Rana! We’re so close to the truth on this one, I can taste it. I don’t give a damn what the Orions try to feed us. Syanok was involved in the bombing of the Malacca. Maybe he didn’t know it, or maybe he was just a cutout, but he was involvedin this conspiracy. I can feel it.”

“I believe you,” Desai said. “But I can’t issue subpoenas based on your gut feeling.”

Jackson folded his arms, aping her stance. “What do we have on him so far?”

“Resisting arrest and assaulting a Starfleet security officer,” Desai said. “Despite the ballistics report about his shipping container being the epicenter of the blast, we can’t charge him with the bombing attack unless we can establish the provenance of the crate and demonstrate a reasonable suspicion that he knew it contained hazardous cargo.”

A cold and calculating look fell like a shadow over Jackson’s face. “What if we combed through all the local comm traffic during the months before and after the attack, looking for any signal that included the routing information on Syanok’s original Orion bank account? We could use that to link him to his conspirators.”

“Or we might link him to legitimate business partners conducting legal transactions, and by so doing infringe on the privacy of all parties and violate the Federation Charter.” She shook her head. “It’s too open-ended, Haniff. Even a first-year law student would see that as a fishing expedition and quash the warrant or throw out the evidence. I won’t sanction it.”

His jaw muscles tensed with suppressed frustration. “I didn’t come this far just to give up,” he said. “I’ll bet you di

Desai knew he wasn’t kidding, but she still laughed. “There’s no way I’m taking that bet, Haniff, because I know you’re right—and I know you never lose.”

“Very true,” he said. Leaning closer, he whispered with a rakish grin, “Let me buy you di

The part of Desai’s heart that was still mourning Diego Reyes told her to lie and say she had other plans. Her sense of professional decorum told her to decline Jackson’s invitation. And her most insecure i

“Okay,” she said with a coy smile. “It’s a date. Pick me up at nineteen hundred.”

26

July 21, 2267

Neera lurked in an alcove concealed by a heavy scarlet curtain and let her man-toy Ganz bask a bit longer in his charade of authority. The Orion figurehead reclined regally behind the desk of his private office aboard the Omari-Ekonand listened to a courteous supplication by a dark-haired human named Joshua Kane.

“First, I’d like to make clear I didn’t seek out this contract,” Kane said. “The client came to me.”

Ganz replied in his rock-steady baritone, “I understand.” With one huge green hand he pushed a bowl of roasted Argelian cashews across the polished antique wooden desk to his slender visitor. “Have a nut.”

Kane bowed his head and scooped up a small handful of nuts from the bowl. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Continue.”

The bearded human closed his fist around the cashews and used his empty hand to punctuate his words with gestures. “They offered a sizable fee for the job—ten million credits.” He held up his empty palm and dipped his chin. “I’ve arranged for them to make the deposit to your anonymous account on Orion.”

“That’s good,” Ganz said. “I trust you’ll have no objection to my taking a standard fifteen percent commission?”

Shaking his head, Kane replied, “No, sir. Not at all.” He sounded hopeful as he asked, “Does that mean I have your permission to accept the contract, sir?”

“On two conditions,” Ganz said. “First, if anything goes wrong, or if you or someone working with you gets caught, this never comes back to me. My name is never mentioned. Agreed?”

Kane nodded. “Agreed.”

“Second,” Ganz said, “no killing. Not one body. If I find out there were fatalities, or that i

“Perfectly, sir. I haven’t taken a life yet, and I don’t plan to start now. You have my word: no one dies for this job.”

Neera pulled aside the scarlet curtain just enough for Ganz to see her give the signal to dismiss his guest.

The barrel-chested Orion man gave no indication of seeing Neera, but then he said to the human, “I’m glad we reach, Mister Kane. Good luck, and safe travels.”

“Thank you, Mister Ganz,” Kane said. He bowed his head as he backed away from Ganz’s desk and held up his closed hand. “Thanks again for the nuts.” The door slid open behind him, and he backpedaled out to the corridor.

After the portal hushed closed, Neera emerged from hiding and pressed a key on the wall that locked the door. She strolled toward Ganz’s desk and savored his leer as he watched the swaying roll of her supple hips. “Efficiently handled, my love,” she said.

“I’m glad you approve.”

She circled his desk, dragging one finger along its edge. “We may have a leak that needs to be plugged,” she said.

Ganz stared awestruck at her, as if he had lost himself in her eyes. “What kind of leak?”

“The Starfleet JAG office has been asking our government for access to Orion banking records,” she said, giving his rolling chair a gentle push back from the desk.

Her hulking beau sat up straighter. “My records?”

“No.” She eased herself onto his lap. “Cygnar-Ralon.”

His forehead creased, and his brow furrowed. “Zett’s company.”

“Yes,” Neera said. “It is.” She had never liked Ganz’s chief enforcer—an impeccably tailored and implacably brutal Nalori named Zett Nilric—and welcomed anything that might persuade Ganz to reconsider his seemingly unshakable faith in the man.

“Do they know it’s his company?”

Neera whispered in his ear, “I don’t think so.” She felt the muscles in his arms and neck stiffen.

“That’s still not good,” Ganz said. “Why are they asking questions about Cygnar-Ralon?”

Stroking her soft palm over Ganz’s smooth, jade-hued pate, Neera said, “They’ve linked it to a suspect in last year’s bombing of the Starfleet freighter Malaccainside Vanguard.”

“I remember the bombing,” Ganz said. Suspicious, he continued, “But I didn’t order it, and I didn’t sanction it. So why would Starfleet have evidence linking it to Zett?”