Precipice

“Computer,” T’Pry

Part of the frozen image was highlighted and enlarged. It was just a muddy-dark slice of the background until the image enhancers kicked in.

Then a familiar face appeared in profile, reflected in a mirror, and Pe

T’Pry

28

July 30, 2267

Jackson felt like a fly accepting an invitation to a spider’s web as he walked to the office of Vanguard’s liaison to Starfleet Intelligence. In all the years Jackson had served as a security officer, he had never before been summoned by SI.

He stopped outside the door of an unmarked command office on Level Ten. The corridor appeared to be empty in either direction. As he went to press the visitor’s signal, the door slid open. Cool air escaped from inside, along with the muted sounds of comm chatter and working computers.

From inside a pleasant voice said, “Come in.”

Holding up his head, Jackson put aside his apprehension and strolled inside. A wide partition stood between the door and the rest of the room. He stepped around it. His eyes widened as he surveyed the expansive space on the other side.

In the center of the room, Commander ch’Nayla stood on a low circular dais that was brightly lit from directly overhead. He was surrounded by a 270-degree arc of high-tech consoles mounted atop black pedestals.

Subdued, cool blue lighting spilled across the walls. Huge viewscreens were suspended from the ceiling in an arc that matched that of ch’Nayla’s bank of consoles. Displayed on the screens were vids of all kinds, ranging from news reports and official government briefings to surveillance footage and what looked like intercepted foreign military transmissions.

Through the gap in the consoles, Jackson saw that ch’Nayla had his back to him. Taking a step forward, the security chief said, “You asked to see me?”

The tall Andorian chantapped some keys on his console, turned, and smiled at Jackson. “I did.” He picked up a data slate and stepped down from the dais.

Jackson walked over to meet him. “Quite a setup you’ve got here,” he said, nodding at the screens.

“I requested some upgrades to the intelligence center after I transferred to this post,” ch’Nayla said. “My predecessor’s work environment was a bit spartan for my taste.”

Recalling the dim, high-gravity sauna that T’Pry

“Actually, I asked you here so that I might do something for you.” Ch’Nayla handed him the data slate. “I’m sure it will not surprise you to learn I try to stay current on all open investigations by the JAG office and the security division.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” Jackson said. He skimmed the contents of the data slate as ch’Nayla continued.

“In recent weeks, I’ve noted several warrants and subpoenas related to certain notable Orion citizens,” the Andorian said. “I’ve also been apprised of your difficulties in obtaining sensitive intelligence from the Orion financial sector.”

“ Difficulties,” Jackson said, echoing ch’Nayla. “That’s a nice way to say utter failure. I’ll have to remember that.”

“Perhaps not. The obstacles to that investigation might now be removed.” He nodded toward the dais. “Join me.” As they walked to the bank of consoles, ch’Nayla continued. “One of my normally taciturn sources on the Orion homeworld has suddenly become loquacious about a private shell corporation—one that figures prominently in Captain Desai’s reports.”

Jackson felt a tingle of excitement. “How loquacious?”

“Very,” ch’Nayla said.

They stepped into the center of the consoles, and ch’Nayla picked up a yellow data card and inserted it into a slot. The screen directly ahead of them changed to display multiple frames of information, including static images, financial spreadsheets, communication logs, and more.

“We have detailed transaction records that show the CygnarRalon corporate entity belongs to a Nalori national known as Zett Nilric,” ch’Nayla said. “Though he has never been charged with a criminal offense, his dossier suggests he is a former professional assassin for the Nalori government who now works as an enforcer for the Orion crime boss Ganz.”

Pointing at one of the frames of business data, Jackson asked, “Can we enlarge that window, please?” Ch’Nayla magnified it so it filled the right half of the screen. Jackson felt his pulse speed up as he eyed the log of account activity. “The dates on those large cash deposits,” he said. “They bracket the date of the attack on the Malacca. Can we trace the source of those funds?”

“I already have,” ch’Nayla said. “They came from an account on Qo’noS that’s been linked to Klingon Imperial Intelligence.”

My God,Jackson marveled. This is it. The proof that ties the bombing to a criminal organization and the Klingons. He began to wonder what other cases might have ties to Zett Nilric. “Can we analyze the dates on the other transfers and see if they also bracket criminal events from other open cases?”

“Once again I’ve anticipated your needs,” ch’Nayla said. “I have cross-checked these dates with events on file and found what I believe to be seven notable concurrences. Three pertain to major heists on non-Federation planets. Two seem to be linked to acts of deep-space piracy against vessels recently departed from Vanguard. And the final two suggest a link between Mister Nilric and two prominent assassinations of underworld figures believed to have been rivals of Zett’s employer, Ganz.”

“Wow,” Jackson said. “Impressive work.”

“Thank you.” Ch’Naylah began closing the data frames. “I regret only that my discoveries can’t be of more use to you and Captain Desai.”

“What’re you talking about? There’s enough there to let me impound Zett’s ship and cavity-search him till he’s inside out.”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t,” ch’Nayla said. “Most of this intelligence was obtained through extralegal methods, and some of it has no clear provenance whatsoever. Almost all of it will be deemed inadmissible regardless of whether it is presented in a civilian court or a court-martial.”

Jackson balled his fists and growled at this latest aggravation. “Dammit! How many bullets can that bastard dodge?”

Removing the yellow data card from the console, ch’Nayla replied, “I share your anger at seeing justice obstructed.” He handed the data card to Jackson. “Though this information ca

Accepting the card, Jackson blinked in surprise. “You’re giving me this intel?”

“I’ve declassified it for you and Captain Desai, because it is clearly relevant to your respective assignments. I’ve also briefed Admiral Nogura on my findings.”

That news put a smile on Jackson’s face. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to sound so shocked. It’s just that T’Pry

The middle-aged chan’s ante

Eight weeks of not enough sleep and too much caffeine had left Dr. Carol Marcus feeling frazzled and unfocused. Ever since the Endeavourhad returned bearing Ming Xiong and the Mirdonyae Artifact, she and the scores of scientists in the Vault had been working double and even triple shifts to help Xiong unlock the mysterious object’s eldritch secrets.