Vectors 9

Rrueo

I feel my fur bristling as I regard the image on the screen. The Unforgiven. Of course, I knew, intellectually, that Starfleet has many Caitian officers, but....

This one is surprisingly young, slim, black-furred - I fancy I see a worried look about her face, but that may just be her reaction at seeing me. I almost wish that I was present, physically, not just seeing her on the viewer. I would like to taste her fear.

"Admiral M'eioi aboard the USS Timor here," she says, and her voice is high-pitched but steady. "I understand you need Starfleet assistance." Is there a hint of an edge to that remark?

"Rrueo-Captain, Rrueo-Thinker... General Rrueo aboard the IKS Brathana," I say. "You will have received our digest of the situation in hand."

"I've only just been told of your need for help." The Caitian settles herself in her command chair. She looks wary. Good. "Summarize it for me."

"Rrueo will oblige, though you should acquaint yourself with the detail information. A Kobali settlement was wiped out by a plague of some sort. We do not know what sort. It is consistent with a virus, except that there is no virus. If Starfleet has any insight into this... conundrum... it would be appreciated."

"Some mutation of the Kobali virus itself?" the Caitian asks.

I sneer. "Naturally, that was the first thing we thought of. We have carried out extensive tests, and believe this not to be the case."

"I suppose I will need to see your... reasoning, then," says the Caitian. "At least we should be able to come up with some insights. The Timor's science lab is second to none."

"In Starfleet, perhaps," I cannot help but snarl.

"Is there any competition?" She studies, or pretends to study, a console readout. "All right. I will read through your data digest, and then perhaps we can meet." She raises her gaze to meet mine. "Aboard your ship, perhaps, in an hour from now? So we can follow up anything that needs more details?"

"Very well. Bring a security detachment, if you feel the need."

"We are allies, now. I may bring technical and medical staff, to assist. Unless I need security?"

"We are, as you say, allies. Rrueo will expect you in an hour, then - Admiral. Screen off." The viewer goes blank. I force myself to relax. "Caitian primitive!"

"She must have something, sir, to have reached her current rank," Oschmann observes.

"Rrueo supposes that must be true. But Rrueo has misgivings.... Well. Perhaps her staff is capable."

"You have that much - doubt - about Caitians, sir?" No Klingon officer would think to question a superior in such a manner - unless they planned a challenge for their rank. But Oschmann's mind-tone betrays only a guarded curiosity. "I've read some of the histories of the Caitian Diaspora. It was a complicated time -"

"Not really. They rejected the genetic uplifts that improved our species. So we drove them out. That is an adequate summary, in Rrueo's opinion." I gaze at the screen, now showing the gleaming rounded dart that is the Caitian's ship. "Imagine, if you will, seeing a starship commanded by your primitive cave-dwelling ancestors...."

"Considering some Starfleet captains I've known, sir, I hardly need to imagine," Oschmann remarks in dry tones. "But I've worked with Caitians who've been... capable."

I grunt. "Do you think, then, that we made a wrong decision, in... expelling the Unforgiven?"

"As a KDF officer, it is not my place to criticize my commanding officer - or her species. As a former Starfleet officer -" Oschmann makes a face. "The internal affairs of your species are your own business, as guaranteed by Starfleet's Prime Directive."

"So, in short, your answer is yes," I say. I can see K'Rokok suppressing a laugh on the other side of the bridge.

"I'm saying, sir, that some Caitians are very competent, for cavemen." She pauses. Clouds flit through her mind. "Also... my people have, well, an unhappy history with genetic augmentation."

"Rrueo is aware of this."

"Well, sir, I can understand that when you look at her, you see... a primitive. When she looks at you, though, she's seeing... Khan Noonien Singh." Oschmann's tone, of voice and of mind, is deadly serious now. "I think, sir, you're both going to have to learn to look past those first impressions."

I nod, slowly. "And the first one who does that... is the one who wins. Rrueo can appreciate that idea."

---

The Caitian beams over on schedule, and we meet in Brathana's conference room. She has brought two aides with her, an Andorian in medical uniform, and... a Betazoid. A telepath, to defend against a telepath. She does not trust me. I am unsurprised.

All three look impeccably Starfleet. The Caitian is groomed after the manner of her people, her black fur brushed and shining. The Betazoid is blond and blandly handsome, the Andorian square-jawed and upright in bearing. Such nobility of appearance. I look past it....

The Andorian's mind is as stern as his looks, facts marshalled, thought processes moving in orderly lines, a factory churning out intelligence - leavened, perhaps, with a strictly limited quota of humour. The Betazoid - I do not risk an intrusion, there - but the mind-tone is tranquil, comparable to a forest glade, perhaps... illuminated by the slanting sunlight of late afternoon, and with shadows that hide predators to trap the unwary trespasser.

As for the Caitian herself... she is motivated, and more intelligent than I would have credited; still young, still a believer in Starfleet's ideals. Her mind is like an army with banners, and I am perturbed to find no fear in it for me... only anger, and something like - contempt. I discipline myself to show no reaction to this, but it rankles. This primitive holds me in contempt? How dare she?

I have brought two officers with me to the conference room: Toriash, because he knows the details of the problem, and Oschmann, because she knows the details... and her mere presence unsettles Starfleet. I see the question in the Caitian's eyes as the human renegade seats herself beside me, but she says nothing, for now.

"Dr. Islim has some questions regarding your data," the Caitian says without preamble. She indicates the Andorian.

"Yes," says Islim. "I've only had a short time to review your results, but.... I'm assuming that you followed all standard procedures for handling the biological samples you took?"

"Naturally. Rrueo can reassure you of that personally. Rrueo is a biologist of some note."

"We read your file," the Caitian says. "Your main area of expertise is cell nucleonics with reference to the Ferasan augmentation process, I believe?" She raises her head slightly. "Trying to work out what went wrong?"

She pretends to have claws. How nice. "There is always room for improvement." I study her from behind half-closed eyes. "More room in some cases than in others, of course."

"Anyway," says Islim, "in that case, I'm rather at a loss to account for your results. It's obvious some kind of cellular invasion and destruction has taken place, but the waste products from the destroyed cells don't match with any known pattern of viral lysing. It's as if something moved into those cells and just destroyed them, without using them at all."

"Rrueo concurs. A viral agent uses cellular material to replicate itself. This simply... obliterates the cells. But it spread like a virus."

"Nanites, perhaps?" Islim is thinking aloud. "Self-replicating, but with a built-in destruct after a certain number of generations...."

"A possibility, but there are no exotic metals or compounds, which Rrueo would have expected. Some of us have considered the possibility of a tuned disruptor field, or even some kind of holographic effect. In that context -"

"Oh, yes," says the Caitian, "the visit from the Kadirian survey ship. Starfleet has a little on the Kadirians -"

"So has Imperial Intelligence," says Oschmann. "Their alliance occupies three systems near the Tekara sector, and they make extensive use of holo-technology. Their planets were devastated by some sort of plague, roughly a century ago, and their population has not yet recovered. So, their ships move under heavy protection, with a very small organic crew, supplemented by holograms."

"Yes," says the Caitian. "In this case, a Hazari escort. We seem to be seeing a lot of the Hazari, lately.... I sent a message through to Delta Command, and, as it happens, we do have a track of this ship the Temur. It's on course now back to Kadir Secundus, having completed its mission."

"Whatever that mission might be," I say.

"The Kadirians are too small to be picking fights with people," the Caitian says. "Even with an inexplicable bio-weapon.... But we should get in touch with them, and find out what they were doing. If nothing else, their survey team will have more data on the Kobali colony." She frowns. "We need more data. Perhaps the Temur will have it."