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Barely Human: Shadow Plays

011 – “Coming Courtesy Gateway 668.”


The most advanced firewall Mech had ever hacked was a level eight, triple layered barrier. 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.

<Yes. I 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 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 get 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 which meant at least one more of her firewalls would 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 was increasing. 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, slipped 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 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.”


<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. They 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?”

_ _ _ _
 
Again, I am very much liking this view of the Federation.

I'm tempted to have the Indy head home in a future episode and maybe seeing some of this cyber-culture...if that's alright with you, of course. :)
 
Dnoth said:
I'm tempted to have the Indy head home in a future episode and maybe seeing some of this cyber-culture...if that's alright with you, of course. :)

I think that would be pretty cool. Barely Human is not officaly part of United Trek as I felt this to be too experimental to incorporate it into the well-established United Trek universe. But obviously that is not to say that you couldn't use this concept for an Indy story.

In any case thanks for reading and the postive feedback, everyone.
 
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 need to be this skirmish 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 duranium 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?”

“Quiet. 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 illegitimate activities here.”

“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 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 peaked, 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.

_ _ _ _
 
Mech really stepped in it this time--it's not everyday you get a quantum torpedo dropped on you. Wonder what Whren is hiding...
 
Mech has made some powerful enemies, that's for sure. It was a risky move by Whren to fire a quantum torpedo from orbit. Now that his original plan failed, what's his next move? And more important, does Whren work for himself or for someone higher up?

Great stuff, CeJay! :thumbsup:
 
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 quite,” 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. There’ll be no uniformed back-up for this operation.>

“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. “No backup, eh? That should 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 a 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? 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 cowered backwards.

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 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 had a look in his eyes now and he knew it 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 to.

“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 insisted to know.

Gavin didn’t quite know how to reply. Tank did not even seem to want to consider an answer 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 annoying little piece of elevator music began to play.

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

No response.

“You got some sort of plan here?”

“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 class?” 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 levers. 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 who 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 in to protect and serve wouldn’t take those silly stories serious. 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 intimidation. “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 more tactfully,” 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.

“God damnit, 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.

_ _ _ _
 
Well, that went down well, didn't it? Tank and co. just made their jobs a heck of a lot harder as Grayson played it smooth with just a slight veiled threat as he invokes the mayor's name. Looks like it'll be up to Mech now--assuming she survives, that is!
 
It's nice to know business interests and politicians are still 'buddy-buddy' in the 24th Century. ;)
 
I greatly appreciate the detail you have put in the story. It's subtle, but you provide the feel of being in a large city. The pursuit scenes were very well done. You provide more of a realistic urban feel than most ST stories. San Francisco is futuristic, but still with realistic traffic and pedestrian issues. Throwing in familiar land marks was a nice touch!

And Tank definitely has a bee up his bonnet. Hopefully, he hasn't over-played his hand. Grayson is a cool customer - I doubt that ice cream would melt in his mouth. He must have some powerful connections for Slade to put the brakes on Tank so abruptly.

Good stuff!
 
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 party, 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 displayed 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 on 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 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 grey eyes sparked at Mech. “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 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 figured out yet 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 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.

_ _ _ _
 
Very nicely done! Excellent chapter. Your 'sage' in the story is very well written and the mystery in the piece has gone up a notch. I like it! :bolian:
 
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