Ace on the Case

Chapter 2

"Enterprise shuttle, you are clear to dock with Orchidia."

Picard exited the portal from his own dimension, always struck by the blue ambiance in this sphere, as opposed to the dun-colored interior of his own. The same armada of ships floated at their stations. They were a mixture of warships, explorers, media, civil transport, trade vessels, and others. At least one warship had weapons online at all times. No one knew if, from the depths of the cosmos, someone else might stumble across a sphere and suddenly exit an octagon. Since black hole weapons were out of the question in here, the best that could be brought to bear was the fearsome pulse wave gun installed on some of the capital ships.

Such as Orchidia. Picard approached low from forward, keeping an uneasy eye on the nose hatch that covered the weapon. "I'm not sure if even the Enterprise shields could handle a hit from that."

"Then," Janeway said, "it's a good thing we're on the same side." She coordinated docking instructions with the other ship's AI as the broad underside slid past above them. A hatch opened, and they were taken aboard by auto sensors. Janeway unstrapped from her seat. "This is a good place to start our investigation, since Moast is now a dual citizen, married to an Outworld woman. Maybe he's heard something."

Vixia was already at the airlock, waiting for the landing bay doors to pressurize around their shuttle. She checked an outer monitor with disdain. "How did they know of our coming? There are media types present outside."

"I suppose," Picard said, "we can ascribe that to Commander Moast's sense of humor, once he found out you'd be coming along."

Outside in the cavernous space, a media team of three set upon Vixia as if Picard and Janeway weren't there. The lead reporter sported an ascot so as to look cultured. "Miss Vixia, what have you been up to since you were here last?"

"We stopped an intergalactic invasion with a black hole bomb, which—"

The woman reporter: "Do all Romulan women dress that way? What about the military?"

Janeway led Picard out of the fracas. "She's going to be plenty mad."

"There's nothing to be done," Picard mused. "The more they press, the more obtuse—and so exotic—Vixia becomes to them."

First Officer Kyra Preston was next to greet them. "The commander is on the bridge. We have sphere security duty for today." The blonde brimmed with a secret, but Picard didn't push it. "We also have some initial info about your investigation. I certainly hope nothing has happened to Ardra." She looked past them to see Vixia striding ahead of the pursuing media. "As you can see, nothing has changed with those people." She led the way to the zip tube for the dizzying trip to the bridge.

Once there, Picard and crew waved to the two helmsmen, surprised to hear music coming from the aft field office. They motioned the visitors ahead.

The door opened for them, revealing the surprise.

"Zena," Picard said breathlessly. The buxom brunette who'd married Moast now wore the women's uniform. Unlike Kyra's blue command jacked, hers was green worn over the same gray skirt and boots. "Well, walk me off the plank. You've uprooted yourself for life in the future?" Moast, lounging at his desk, grinned impishly.

"No, no," she said. "Don't you remember? This is my turn to spend two weeks in Moast's world. I have a commission as xenobiologist." She paused to hug both Picard and Janeway.

"What's that music?" Janeway asked. "No, don't tell me. Avatar, report." Since Janeway was authorized to summon her, the avatar shimmered into view. She was the same black leather, white-haired punkette from before, having chosen that appearance after Moast. Since he wasn't military, he didn't have to wear a uniform either. "Identify music."

"Extollere, by the group Delerium, featuring the Mediaeval Baebes."

Despite his classical preference, Picard liked it. Electronica set to feminine voice was quite a lively combo, a blend of ancient and modern—even though the piece was recorded before the great wars. "Zena, I'm told you can get our investigation started. How much do you know about Khot, City of Thieves, and it's principal assassin, Jili?"

"Before we start," Moast said, "have a seat." Picard's trio settled on a white wall sofa. "It's funny. We don't have transporters or replicators, and you don't have hyperjump drive or black hole bombs. But I do have a well-stocked bar, even with tea and coffee. Choose your preference."

Zena did the honors: tea for Picard, Romulan ale for Vixia. Janeway always carried her magical self-filling coffee mug, a gift from Ardra. Moast put his feet up on the desk. "Take it away, wife."

Zena, also with coffee, leaned against the desk and put an arm about Moast. "I never had much to do with Jili, but we spent a lot of time at Montfort Abbey with Sisra's team. If there's like anybody who wants to hurt her, it would be the Inquest. They want to rip every magic user on the planet."

"Rip?" Vixia asked.

"To break their magic link. Their priests are forbidden to screw with Montfort, because it's such a big money maker for the king. But they're starting to make inroads into the Old Quarter, and that's like bound to get them in trouble with Jili."

"Perhaps," Picard mused, "they mean harm to Sisra at such time she's away from Montfort."

Zena's red mouth rounded in thought. "I don't see why, unless Jili goes to war with them. Then they'd start hitting her friends just for spite."

Janeway traded looks with Picard. "That's the likely scenario. I think we need to start in the Old Quarter. After seeing the Sybils, that is."

Zena's brown eyes rolled upward. "The only one I like is Lusia, who predicts the past, if that makes sense. They only gave Moast and me an audience because we crashed the demon star. Oh!" She raised a finger. "You should see Queen Wayacth. She was my mentor during the academy days. I'll bet she can get you in. What would you ask them?"

Picard sipped his tea. "For starters, we'd want to know precisely where to start in our search for the threat to Sisra. Her death is the only explanation for Ardra disappearing. We aim to arrive in time to stop it."

"Just the three of you?" Zena looked skeptical.

"Not I," Vixia said. "I came for the earliest word of success. Ardra's survival is important for my faction, though there are others who see her as a prop for the Federation."

Zena had put it together. She gave Moast's shoulder a little slap. "They're talking about getting mixed up with assassins! Moast, you aren't going!"

He pulled her close. "I don't intend to, wife. We'll have to hang close to New Mars in case we're needed." He looked to the impassive avatar, a veritable statue with electric vampire eyes. "Orchidia, collate the data we've assembled on Khot and environs. What are Picard and Janeway up against?"

"The Inquest is a Fringian priestly order who consider native force, as they call magic, their private domain. Unable to attack regional powers such as Eolca, they focus on culling budding talent with the intent of starving the field of future spell casters. These are a prime source of replacement for such centers as Montfort Abby, where the scullery maid Sisra, against crushing opposition, attained a magic link to become the realm's premier wizardress."

"They'd make good Romulans," Vixia ventured, perfectly serious.

Picard made a toast. "Indeed, Vixia. How will you bide the time until we return?"

The Romulan looked pained. "I have . . . an interview with the media on New Mars."