[greaterfrost]

The rain fell for the nineteenth day over the island country of H’jan, leaving torrents of flooding threatening almost all the evacuation routes.  None of the transports had done well during the exposure to the rain; the acidic nature of the cloud cover was affecting instrumentation, which made keeping the aircraft flightworthy difficult; it was a consequence of heavy industrialization over the recently catastrophic remnants of a nuclear war. Starfleet had sent four ships to address the failure of the mission they had authorized to save a recent addition to the federation.  One half of the planet was reaching new heights of scientific understanding, and the other side had been trying to annihilate each other. The radioactive ash had been dealt with, but the cloud cover was from trillions of liters of water than had been flash boiled and had to drop somewhere.
 
There was no safe way to evacuate millions of innocents from the flooding that would accomplish what the war hadn’t touched.  Eighteen cities along the coast of the only surviving country had been lost to the twenty-four meters of sea rise due to tsunami, the war had ended, but less than five million people had survived.  Starfleet had chosen to save them for their sacrifices and significant contribution to the war efforts with the Terrans.  Dozens of weatherproof shelters had been erected, and there had been enough to save the worst the world could throw at it; the people were safe, but the planet would soon reclaim the remnants of every major city of a people that had chosen to play God and lost.  
Dr. G’zakis was the facility director of the Koln’ institute, the place where his radiation experiment had been first successfully tested; he would be one of the last to remember his home the way it had been; he watched the vicious waves overcome one beach after another, flooding every inch of the city of Sus’pe, a peaceful tourist destination that had been his home for the last 73 years.

The steady downpour of rain didn’t bother him as the leather of his skin was resistant to the acidic nature of the rain.   Off-world, he would have resources he could have never imagined and would live for centuries without the teeth of war within a sector of him, but this was his home. Soon nothing would be left of his people’s rich histories as much of the data centers that held their extranets had been lost to the most significant countries that had lost to each other in their bombardment.  Even with the clean-up, the planet would be uninhabitable for a generation; it would take at least thirty years before any level of re-colonization would be possible, his people would continue, but their story was over.

Jasen Kane walked through the roof access door and into the dead garden that used to be a community space for the often food insecure people the government had long forgotten. Jasen lifted a gourd as it wilted in his hand; a little off put by the decay, he dropped it, wiping his hands against his pants. He looked over to see his friend lost in thought, looking over the oncoming devastation the environmental disaster was bringing.
“Gravis VIII,” Jasen began, and G’zakis looked back at him, “an old colony of the Cardassian Union,” Jasen continued. “They got into a war with us some 40 years ago now and left many of their colonies to fend for themselves” Jasen looked over the side with G’zakis watching the devastation with regret in his eyes.

“It fell into something very similar to this planet, but madmen and pirates had taken control of everything within a decade.” G’zakis smiled and replied, “I think I see the resemblance.” He chuckled as Jasen continued.” When we came about, I was still an ensign, fighting for my spot in the tactical barracks, hoping they wouldn’t sack me with the marines.” Jasen held his nose and made a face of disgust as G’zakis smiled, listening.

“My captain said that the choices made by madmen shouldn’t decide the fate of a people.” Jasen’s tone of voice softened. “When I heard about your planet, I knew I had to help, whether your research is helping us or not.” Jasen looked out as one of the makeshift dams failed, watching a former oasis of trees and freshwater get swallowed by mud and debris. “I watched more than 30,000 people fill in and out of the hospital and transport ships to find a federation colony and how sloppy the entire operation had seemed.” He looked over at his friend. “Jess’ we’re going to make sure you get everything back even if we have to reinvent it from the ruins.” G’zakis’s first name was unpronounceable in the human tongue, but he told a few to call him Jess, a much-shortened form of his given name.

“I don’t need everything back, Jasen; I just need the bad to stop outweighing the good…” Jess resigned.

“This, “ He looked out over the dying island. “The world is reclaiming itself. It’ll still be here when you’re ready to return, with different coastlines and past sins lost beneath the waves.” Jasen offered a nectar drink from a pack he brought; it was a local delicacy he knew his friend had trouble finding on his own in the shortage.  Jess smiled and accepted the gesture. His intricate reptilian fingers brought the can to his lips, and as he drank, the reflective bottom of the can glinted in the odd combination of bright sun and rain. Then the can exploded, knocking the doctor back off his feet with a look of shock in his eyes and the rest of his face largely eviscerated by what appeared to be choked shrapnel that tore its way through his face and into the back of his durable neck.  As Jasen dropped his drink, instantly tapping his communicator and calling for medic and tactical response personnel
 
20 minutes earlier…
 
The rain pocked against the sleek tactical bivouac that was fashioned between two stones that had often served as master point anchors for thousands of hikers and enthusiasts that had used the dormant volcano for the last six hundred years since the previous eruption; it overlooked the entire island giving a 360 view of the devastation that would soon swallow any evidence of civilization still clinging to the war-torn remnant that was in its last throes of survival, as the waves rushed in without resistance, it was clear no ones wins with the world at war.

A long black rifle was set with its bipod extended setting exactly 68 centimeters meters off the surface of the mountain overlook. It had a perfect view of the research campus just eight kilometers away. A monocular ranger lay within the covering, tracking a seemingly invisible target and altering its trajectory by microns every few moments. A haptic feed hovered in the air, always within the eye-line of the shooter giving telemetry information well outside the range of a weapon that might have been found on this planet.  The void black skin of the shooter barely registered in the poor light as she placed components one by one into a device in her lap. As each component settled into the housing, different sections of the housing began to give up an ominous green light, each piece making her face and body look even more tainted with malice until, at last, the entire device glowed with a deep poison green pulsing with an internal clock that seemed very much like the beating of the heart of a predator.
 
She slid the device over the end of the rifle muzzle and turned it until it locked into place. Her eyes flashed in delight as the device fit perfectly into its housing, the deep green creating more contrast across the petite but intensely toned physique of a girl that couldn’t have been more than 16 years old by human estimations. Her eyes reflected nearly all the light from the device, giving her a demonic persona as she made minor adjustments to the telemetry readings she received.  

The device’s green glow garishly illuminated the letters AKSS just below the ejection port, in front of the mag release tab; it stood for Antimaterial Kinetic Special Service rifle or Access as it was effectively titled.  It was a remnant of the Marquis’s resistance during the border treaty between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. The rifle had been designed to disable or destroy incoming shuttlecraft or small patrol gunships. It had a maximum range of five kilometers at best, using an interphase round that ignored the effects of gravity and wind shear as it traveled.


The girl adjusted the settings on the device itself as it shifted colors and frequencies until it finally went dark, but the heat and steam from the device were visible in the heavy rain; it was working as designed.

She slid in behind the rifle, adjusting the stock against her shoulder as her coal-colored cheek couched expertly against the stock of the technical weapon. The digital haptic monitor allowed her to adjust her aim without a significant departure from the intended target; the monocular identified a reptilian humanoid leaning against the balcony overlooking the canopy of the rain forest; the range was listed at 8.162km in range.  She opened the bolt of the chamber exiting into the muzzle and chambered a black cylinder with a smooth flat edge on both sides and no obvious projectile or primer. 

The chamber closed and locked into position as a soft click brought the device back to life. A series of hidden mechanisms clicked as the device changed its dimension to suit the barrel more securely. She coached her breathing until it was smooth and perfect, each trained exhale housing a complete control of emotion, intent, and patience.  On the third breath, she held it as her body stiffened in stoic grace while her deft index finger squeezed the trigger.

The entire housing at the end of the rifle launched explosively off the end of the barrel as the speed and trajectory of the housing moved at over 2200 kph, marking the travel time at 13 seconds of flight time.  The device shifted in the light, gathering information about its environment and making minor cosmetic changes to the round's visibility until it matched its surroundings, leaving no detection window to avoid the projectile.

Ten seconds…
 
The round maintained the same speed as it had from its initial launch; the outer shell of the device isolated the effects of gravity and wind shear as identical to the rate and pulled as it had at the end of the rifle, the round cruised through the air in the supersonic slipstream as the internal computer micro-corrected its path in line with the monocular ranger that was securely on target.

Five seconds…

The device began spinning in a counterclockwise direction until the rifling of the round had been corrected; it now moved entirely independently of the world around it as seams opened on the end of the device.  The monitor showed a series of intentional cracks in the housing of the internal round as the tip of the device quickly pulled away as the meters to the target shifted to below one kilometer at range.

Three seconds…

The housing separated from the projectiles inside, creating a choked vector for the frangible round to dissipate evenly.    The multiple pellets were aerodynamically neutral but began a predetermined spin as each technically machined round acted in tandem with its neighbor.

Impact.

The dozens of small indistinguishable pieces hit Dr. G’zakis’ face through the can, shredding any tissue or bone they tore through; the frangible pieces were designed to grow in dimension as they traveled through the target, dramatically reducing the speed and penetration of the round but massively increasing its stopping power.  Each semi-molten impact settled as designed into the durable skin tags located along the nape of the neck of every H’jani adult.  The good doctor was dead before his head hit the ground.  

Ground Zero

Jasen scanned the horizon, seeing no indication of any transporter signals or energy signatures; he had the U.S.S. Johannesburg scan the area for energy signatures, but nothing came back indicating a weapon used within the range of the campus; he checked his friend, discovering the flechette embedded in the neck. He lifted several pieces and pulled his tricorder to examine the debris.  He read that each piece showed almost no wear from their transit the way a traditional kinetic round would; the weapon was unique in how it impacted and killed the target.  He accessed the sensor panel on the ship and scanned for life signs that were not H’jani, or Federation class, with one result; an unknown signal on the mountain nearly 8 kilometers away; even a ship’s weapon would have difficulty remaining accurate at that range without energy signals present.

“Johannesburg, lock on to the signal on the mountain, beam it directly to my location.” Jasen was watching the readouts on his tricorder with particular interest.

“Johannesburg here, sir; the unknown signal has been detected, having trouble getting an exact location, life signs very weak. We can’t get a solid lock.” the transport officer returned.

“Fine,” Jasen pulled a modified type IV phaser from his hip; it resembled a Desert Eagle sidearm but matched the weight and feel of a traditional insurgency class service weapon. “Take me to them…”
                               
“Roger…” The officer responded as he sent the transport beam.
 
 
She watched the impact of the round with the slightest of a smile on her lips. The monocular changed the target to concentrate on A Federation officer who witnessed the kill.  They appeared to be an admiral, but the lack of access to federation records prevented her HUD from identifying precisely who it was.  He was definitely looking for something, but there was no way he could connect the kill with her perch so far away; she continued to watch as the officer looked in her direction, and she froze.  He looked exactly like her patron…!

If he were half as smart as Kane, he’d know she was connected somehow. 

She collapsed the rifle and monocular and activated the stealth field on her bivouac; the perch vanished into the undergrowth as she ran from her position, looking desperately for a way to explain herself; her skin had been genetically altered to be electronically muted, her position could be detected, but outside of her volition, she couldn’t be tracked for long, and that would be hard enough to explain. Likewise, she didn’t know how to approach her patron’s double and not betray something personal in front of him.  

She noticed an outcrop looking out over an 8-meter depression covered with rough terrain all the way down; she could hear a transporter beam rectifying and took the jump, dropping quickly into the rugged rocks and unstable undergrowth; her outfit would prevent any penetration, but any exposed skin would be just as vulnerable to injury as anyone else.  Her foot caught on a small crack in the rocks, and she collapsed into a clumsy roll, hitting the right side of her face with deep lacerations across her cheek and jaw; injuries to her head included a few rocks slicing open the side of her head just above her ear causing serious bleeding to begin.  Scrapes and mild contusions covered most of her arms and hands, but nothing penetrated the suit, but her firm abdomen was covered with profound impact bruising that the fabric wouldn’t have prevented.

This was optimal given her hopes to look like an accident, but just as she was nearing the bottom, her right leg got caught in a larger crack and fractured in four places, ripping the soft tissue around her tendons as well with severe sprains as she let out a very real scream in agony, an average person would be unable to walk away from this on her own.  The pain was unreal and genuine, but not something she hadn’t suffered before. Still, it was enough to likely forgo any interrogation as she was slowly bleeding out, lapsing into unconsciousness.

Jasen beamed in with his weapon drawn in one hand and his tricorder in the other.  He scanned for life signs and caught an unknown lifeform at the bottom of a nearby wide crevice in the rocks. He moved over to the outcropping and noticed a girl that couldn’t have been older than 16 bleeding out, caught in the rocks.  He was surprised to see someone with skin the color of ebony, but her life was more important than what she looked like.  He carefully skirted the rock, dropping in a controlled and slow descent, and reached her body, instantly aware that her injuries were well beyond field medicine.  His tricorder still had issues getting significant information on her, but her external injuries showed she needed surgery.

He placed his communicator on her outfit and tapped it to activate the comm. “Johannesburg, emergency transport on my communicator, direct to sickbay, advise Doc Halley she’s gonna need a signal enhancer to get a read on her patient, something about her physiology is preventing a clean read, and let her know her patient is in bad shape.” Jasen was careful not to move the woman, so he let the transporter move her instead. He watched the body materialize and decided the hunch was a dead end; there was no way the injured girl could have been his shooter.

The girl woke up in sick bay six hours later, her leg was tender and ached, but it wasn’t broken; she knew that her pursuer had rescued her, but it wasn’t clear how much they were aware of.  She wasn’t in restraints, and there wasn’t any security in the room, so she guessed they hadn’t discovered anything about her or who she was.

Dr. Halley was a Tellarite of medium stature with brown combed back hair tied in a ponytail and soft features that matched her demeanor. Her smile was warm and genuine as she walked over to the side of the bed the girl was lying in.

“Looks like you took quite the spill, young lady?” The doctor turned on the signal enhancer next to her bed and took some readings of how well her patient was doing.  “How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Where am I?” she asked. “I was climbing… the tsunami came in, and… then I woke up here?”

“You’re on a Federation starship, Starfleet; you’re safe, dear…” The Doctor reassured her.

“When can I walk on it, doc?” she asked as she gingerly squeezed the muscles in her leg as though her leg had fallen asleep.
Dr. Halley moved to stop her hands from ripping the micro-sutures. “A week maybe two before you’re back to climbing, dear, but after a good night’s rest, you should be good to put yourself through the paces again.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of putting you in one of our cabins for the evening. Admiral Kane would love to speak to you and get your perspective on the disaster and how you found yourself on the planet.” She beamed with pride. “he’s taken a special interest in you and would love to learn more about your species and what your people may have been like.”

“Thank you for the consideration… call me Xie; I’d love to accept your generosity and meet this admiral of yours... Kane, was it?” Xie smiled, using her guile and talent for manipulation to put her enemies in a false sense of security.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Xie; I must admit, I have never seen a DNA profile quite like yours before, almost like your species was…. Well, I think your story would be interesting to hear, and feel free to stop by my office whenever the feeling might come over you.” Halley smiled with a bit of excitement barely contained in her voice.

Xie smiled and got to her feet, being gentle with her still-mending leg; she smiled and nodded to the doctor before making her way out into the hall. “Thank you, Doctor; I will be sure to take you up on that.” She called before disappearing down the hall towards what she assumed was the ship’s promenade.

She passed a map and glanced, almost as though she were already bored. Still, a nano recorder in her temples had been saving every detail of people and conversations she happened to be a part of; since the device was considered part of her anatomy, sensors or transporters wouldn’t have picked it up as it registered as a biologic component of her unknown physiology.

For the rest of the afternoon, she walked off much of the pain associated with her injuries, the bruises had been salved, and the laceration knit, the leg was quickly improving, and her accelerated healing factor was rebuilding muscle and bone with every pulse of her circulation.

Finally, she reached her quarters, examining as many parts of the ship as possible, pretending she was lost and innocent; the layout was being committed to memory for tactical supremacy. She slid onto the bed and smiled, chuckling at the plush furnishing humans must have in all corners of their lives and yearning for the cold slab she had grown up laying on for her training.  Portions of her arms had been replaced molecule by molecule by biotechnical components that served the same function but could also be used to manipulate technology and allow her to communicate entirely privately with nearly any device that it had connected with; the implanted machine had no signatures the cited a source nor an address by which to register the individuality of the interface, her body was a computer just as much as it had been a short-statured girl of seemingly little concern.
               
One part of her wanted to meet this man that had stolen her patron’s face and lived a life so alien to her, but this would have to be a decision he made; another yearning of a different kind surged through her legs and abdomen, she smiled as an interface opened on her arm a cloaked fighter lay undisturbed in orbit around the planet, she tapped into the hidden energy signature obfuscated in the ionic signature of the planet and isolated a transport window to the vessel.

This wouldn’t be the last time she would see the excellent admiral, but it would be the last time she was unaware of his paranoia and guile.