The Chain Unbound
Chapter 8
"Objectives In Motion"
The space throughout the Andorian system was quiet, save for light amounts of intra-system slower-than-light travel and two patrol frigates. It made the small Emerald Chain registered courier vessel stand out on sensors. The pilot, however, didn't worry about such details.
To Andorian traffic control, the newly arrived courier vessel was another Emerald Chain chartered ship relaying dispatches from the Deneb sector.
Truthful, if only in technicality. There were dispatches and light cargo, but it was all a clever front to get the pilot into the protected system. With Emerald Chain courier credentials, it was easy to land the ship, get space port authorities on Laibok to offload what little cargo and dispatches they had, and leave the ship to visit the local mercantile and take advantage of the Andorian capitol's recreational facilities.
They looked around at Laibok's underground promenade area, where the citizenry milled without care under neon signs and bright underground lighting, where shop owners sold exotic goods, where fur and chain-mail clad warriors patrolled the streets without a sense of urgency or alarm, stopping to flirt with any 'blue geishas' whom invited their attention with coy advances.
From what they could tell, there was no sign Andoria knew the Emerald Chain was no longer a viable political entity. It was business as usual here.
It worked to their advantage, but for how long? They weren't staying around long enough to find out.
They turned into the alley, then another, and another still, winding through the labyrinth that was Laibok's warrens, looking for a sufficiently deserted area. Satisfied with a lack of pursuit from nosy locals, they found a secluded spot and set to work patching into the planet's network.
It didn't take long using their Emerald Chain Regulator credentials to find the source of the chroniton burst. A family estate outside Anders, an equatorial city near one of Andoria's largest bays. Another query and they had the estate's owners. The estate was Estihi property, one of Andoria's most powerful clans.
But not powerful enough to defy The Chain by possessing temporal manipulation materials.
Unless they already knew of The Chain's collapse and were making similar moves as their employee.
The next step was to get inside the estate and find answers.
Logging out of the planetary net, they re-patched their tricom badge and accessed the planet's transporter grid in stealth mode.
It meant, as their body materialized at the source of the chroniton burst, his personal transporter didn't leave a log of their movement or warn the local grid of any energy expenditure.
Their tricom's personal transporter had other features for discreet insertions and interventions, advanced technology given to trusted high-ranked Regulators, features such as bypassing most forms of anti-transporter defenses and sensor detection.
As they surveyed a darkened room littered with musty objects and smelling of dry earth and clay, they heard silence, no guards alerted, no alarms tripped, nothing detected by their passive electronic detection and countermeasure suite nor their own tremor sense.
Summoning their holopadd, they cycled through the tricorder functions and initiated a forensic molecular reconstruction of the area. Detecting the paths of particle residuum, a molecular reconstruction of events could record the past several weeks in a localized area and put them on the holopadd for further study. Its accuracy, barring interference, was nearly indistinguishable from being there.
They rewinded through the re-construction. Brief bursts of activity from staff, then a flurry of activity as a group of Andorians went through the entire room in reverse, appearing to rummage for something. When that activity was fast-forwarded through, there was a brief pause of nothing, followed by a portly Andorian reverse entering the room, box in hand. He flung items out haphazardly with little regard. Another brief pause. Then a woman exiting the room in reverse, then a burst of static.
This left the infiltrating Regulator confused. They'd never seen such distortions of forensic molecular reconstruction. Antilepton saturation might have provided an answer. None were detected on the tricorder.
And unlike antilepton pollution, the static eventually ended, showing a young Andorian woman moving items originating from a large, clamshell-shaped container.
They checked the time index. The stardate matched the approximate time of the chroniton burst.
They rewound the room recording until the young Andorian entered the room with the container. While they watched her put on examination gloves and inspect the container, they used a biometrics program to find her identity. It proved more difficult, as their biometrics database had built in the identifications for notable people throughout The Chain, and only up to mid-tier members in the Deneb Sector. Whoever she was didn't rank highly in The Chain.
Patching into the planetary database with an anonymous and re-routed profile dug up the answer they searched for. Mikolo sh'Estihi, Invigilator and Chief Historian of the Clan Estihi, was pulling out items from the container. A picture frame, ancient weaponry, and lastly a small box, when opened, revealed a bright aquamarine gemstone on a golden chain.
When her hand came in contact, the static started, and stayed, according to the timestamp, for several minutes, before clearing up and showing the Invigilator drinking from a cup, and spitting out its contents in surprise.
The gemstone was now around her neck.
"Confirmation of a time crystal and the identity of its owner." They tapped their tricom, closing down the molecular reconstruction. "The Governor will be pleased, but only if I find this Invigilator and capture the time crystal from her."
They made a discreet query for Mikolo sh'Estihi's whereabouts on the planetary net. She was nowhere to be found. Further inquiries to the local Regulator monitoring databases also turned up empty. Cracking the Estate's biometrics computer revealed she hadn't been in the estate since a day after the event.
The Governor would not be pleased.
But not all was lost for the Regulator from the Deneb Sector. As they left the disheveled room and crept on splayed, chitinous feet through the halls of the Estihi Estate, they were thinking of how to find her trail. Cracking databases and sifting through the information was already being done on automatic by their tricom device, but it would take time, which by their educated guess there was none to spare. For all they knew, the Invigilator was in hiding or already off her home moon.
They recalled the information on the Invigilator. Mikolo sh'Estihi, Chief Invigilator and Clan Historian.
A relation? Nepotism?
The Regulator dug further. A quick inquiry to their holopadd confirmed their suspicion. The Invigilator was the direct daughter of Clan Estihi's patriarch, Shryhl th'Estihi.
A query for Shryhl th'Estihi revealed he was still on the estate.
They shut down the tricom's holopadd. Taloned fingers closed around the disk attached to its robe. Depressing the button snapped the disk into a pistol-shape. Snapping an oval-shaped button off their robe, they inserted it into the pistol with a subtle mechanical snap.
Regulator operations were clear in such situations.
Question family members.
And stop at nothing to gain answers.
Compound eyes saw well in the dark, and the fine hairs and spikes on their chitinous shell felt the tremors of the ancient plaster walls and wooden floorboards. There was activity upstairs. They crept quietly in the dark, halting as they heard two people passing through the hallway above the staircase. They waited for the two beings to pass before silently stepping up the stairs.
They could hear a voice from the lit recesses of an office, an older male voice, projected from a communication suite's speakers. "...reports coming out of the rest of The Chain are unbelievable. Congress declared martial law, tried to seize all the ships and dilithium. Most of the Andorian delegation died, including the Prime Minister. It's bedlam out there and it's only a matter of time until the rest of Andoria finds out. If we're to make moves it has to be now!"
The Xindi Insectoid Regulator hugged the wall and listened closely. Another voice spoke up, shrill and under duress. "How can you ask me to do this now?! After what we just read?! My daughter's out there in the hands of that... treacherous lunatic! Forget the coup. I want a courier and a ship with enough range to reach Titan Station NOW! We'll sort the political situation once we get Mikolo back."
Their antennae quivered. They found the right people, and they were right in the middle of a heated discussion. They held their breath, slowed their pulse, and listened.
"Old friend, you know our time is limited. Even if you could find the dilithium to power one of your ships, which you can't since there's not a crystal to be had in a hundred light years, by the time we retrieve your daughter and bring her home the situation would have already passed. Don't throw away all your preparations for the sake of one karskat daughter!"
"How dare you!" Came Shryhl's outburst as they heard a meaty thwack across a broad, hard surface. After a course of heavy breathing, Shryhl stilled himself, and spoke with more measured calm. "Her loyalty to the clan was suspect, but she has principles. She wouldn't have warned us, at significant risk to herself no less, if that wasn't the case."
"Be that as it may." The voice held strong, dangerous implications, "Events are unfolding by the hour. If we are to execute our plan we must accelerate the timetable. We no longer have a head of government. Unless someone was to step in to maintain order and provide leadership, we invite chaos. You are best positioned to take over. You are that man. You must be that man. Here. Now. No later."
A long pause left both Patriarch Shryhl and the Intruder to consider their plans.
"Who do you suspect has enough dilithium?" Shryhl asked.
The other voice answered hesitantly. "Most every clan is dry, but rumor has it Clan Teliala holds a small reserve for emergencies."
"That's perfect!" They heard a thump of a hand slapping the desk. "I already suspect they turned Anib with that kemocite smuggling stunt. We could use it. Turn it into an excuse to declare them traitors to the state. Take them out before they become our opposition."
"So you're feeling better about the situation?"
"Somewhat, and the permanence of my mood change depends on whether or not they have my fucking dilithium." Shryhl took a deep breath, easily changing gears. "I treated that shaxlike my own kin. I practically threw my daughter at him! I was hoping he'd take over the clan business when I went into politics. And now he throws his lot in with the Telialas and puts my daughter in danger. That cut runs deep, old friend. Situational urgency or not, you can't expect that to go unanswered for long."
"It won't." The voice had a reassuring tone. "But don't let it distract you. Not after all we've done to prepare. His day will come, but not before your day comes."
"Yes. Of course." They heard the pop of a removed cork, and pouring of liquid over ice, the rattle of ice cubes on crystal. "Miko and I may have had our disagreements, especially with those naïve ideals of hers, but she's my shei, my daughter, my eldest."
"One whom you've complained about many times, I remind you."
"I won't deny it, there are irreconcilable differences. She's judgemental, but doesn't understand the sacrifices I made so that she doesn't have to do what we do. Still, it changes nothing. She's my daughter. She's still an Estihi, and we supposed to look out for our own." They heard the clink of ice and a swallow before Shryhl continued, his voice rasped from the burn of strong alcohol. "Still, she's smart, she's tough, and she's resourceful. I hope it's enough while we remain helpless to aid her."
"Glad you could see reason."
"I'm far from reasonable, old friend. You're practically asking for my daughter's life. You want to make up for it? Since I can't personally stuff Anib's antennae down his throat, we'll have to make do with all his blood relations. Think your people can make it happen?"
"We'll have them all gathered up as soon as you make your announcement."
"Why wait? Get started now. Purge them while we're dealing with the Telialas."
"That won't be a problem."
"Good. And old friend?" Another pour, another clink of ice on crystal, and a rasp from his throat. "Thank you. But don't forget. We're coming for her when this is all done."
"Of course. We won't forget about dear little Mikolo." The voice dripped with condescension. "What of the rest of your family? Will they be there for your big day?"
"Miko thinks someone's after the family. Might be paranoia, but I'm taking no chances. I've ordered the rest of the family to go into hiding." Shryhl spoke with sharp finality. "They're safe. That's all anyone needs to know."
Annoyance shot through the eavesdropping Regulator. It would make any follow-up interrogations difficult.
Resolved to take out the inconvenience on those they could reach, they pulled the slide on their flechette pistol, locking a round in place.
A grunt of disapproval came out from the other voice. "I see. Well, you are a busy man. I'll leave you to attend to your business, Mister Prime Minister."
A derisive snort from Shryhl. "Don't go jerking me off now. I don't have the job yet."
"True, until tomorrow. Just remember who your friends are when it happens."
"Since when have I forgotten?" He peevishly snapped. A moment of silence, and his tone changed to something more reconciliatory. "Your assistance is appreciated, and you'll be rewarded soon enough. With that in mind, pre-emptive congratulations to you is in order. We're about to step up in the universe, my friend. I have some last minute preparations to make, unless you got anything else?"
"That should be sufficient."
"Until tomorrow then. Th'Estihi out." The Andorian patriarch uttered once the communication line cut off, "What a prick. Guards! Leave me. I need to think alone."
As Shryhl poured another drink, the Regulator heard the shuffle of two sets of feet on the hardwood floor. They felt the tremor of the floor and the clink of the glass. Felt where the two men positioned themselves outside the Andorian patriarch's room, and knew the path which the patriarch paced in his moody contemplation.
They scraped a claw over the wall, felt the wallpaper part, the plaster crumble.
Too simple, they reasoned, as they flicked the flechette pistol to semi-automatic and leveled it in the direction of the guards.
One shot, a 'phut' of expelled chemicals and air, and a shard of carbon matrix synthetic diamond punched through the wall and caught the first guard in the throat. As the first guard fell to his knees and clutched a hole gushing turquoise blood, the second guard had little time to react when a second shard pierced the wall and entered the back of his skull, shooting through the bridge of the nose and taking out a sizable chunk of cartilage, bone, and gray matter.
They waited for the clink of ice on glass, rattled by Shryhl's astonishment when he saw two of his guards drop dead at his doorway.
Then a shout of panic when a crystal glass shattered, followed by a scream of fear and pain, was the Regulator's cue to enter the darkened office.
They caught the portly Andorian patriarch in night robes hung loosely over his body, shaking next to his desk, cradling a bleeding hand. The patriarch looked down at a pinprick. Hesitantly, as Shryhl fought the shock entering his system, he turned the hand around to reveal a messy cavity of ruined muscle and bone from where the shard exited his palm.
He would look up from his grisly wound and see a Xindi-Insectoid across from him, a small, silvery hand-pistol in its claw.
Shryhl found his nerve. Cradling his hand, he stared down the Regulator. "How did you get in here? Who do you work for? Teliala? The Royal Family? The Emerald Chain? Is The Chain after me?"
The Xindi kept its eyes on Shryhl, and its pistol aimed at his heart.
Shryhl exploded with animal panic. "For the love of the gods, you can kill me at any time! You might as well tell me! WHO WANTS ME DEAD!?"
The Xindi's mandibles moved as it made clicking sounds. Seconds later, an artificial, androgynous voice projected from their tricom. "We care not for your petty rivalries, nor your provincial struggles." They tapped on their tricom and brought up the holoPADD display. "Whether you live long enough to blame this attack on your rivals depends on you. You are but one of many routes towards my objective. You live out of convenience, extended only through cooperation. If not, you die. Act quickly, or you will bleed out. Understood?"
Shryhl looked down at his ruined hand, the blood dripping down to the floor, each drop counting down the time remaining. When he looked back up again, it was with fiery hatred, subdued by resignation.
The Xindi-Insectoid could see in the Andorian patriarch's eyes the calculations he made in his head.
They tapped their badge and tossed a holoprojected image of the Invigilator Mikolo.
"Tell me about this female and how to find her."
Returning to their ship, they threw the blue blood flecked webbing off their carapace and flung their flechette pistol at the bulkheads.
Questioning the Andorian patriarch ended fruitlessly. The Regulator briefly considered finding the rest of his family, but by the time their questioning of Shryhl came to an abrupt end, there were already reinforcements on the way, necessitating the Regulator's return to their vessel.
A click of the mandible, and their ship warmed up its engines and automatically ran its pre-flight checks. They predicted, in light of the unfolding chaos, several minutes lead before local authorities attempted to stop them, but chose not to verify their estimate by waiting. Their vessel gained flight clearance, lifted off, cleared Andoria's atmosphere, and shot into warp before Andoria ground control was given the order to ground the vessel.
They were more than glad to leave the cold, ice-bound moon to the Andorians and their impending chaos.
They knew the item that caused the chroniton burst, its possessor, and its destination.
After patching into the Emerald Chain subspace communications network and sending their latest findings back to the Northern Cross, they set course for the Sol System.