There were few people around on this bright California morning. The young woman attracted no particular attention, though. She was medium tall, brown-haired, brown-skinned, dressed in a conservative grey jacket and knee-length skirt - there was nothing about her to make her stand out, in this cosmopolitan city.
No one paid attention to her as she descended the ramp down to the sub-level mall. Here, the air was cooler, conditioned, and the indirect lighting gave everything a faint bluish tint. She removed her sunglasses, and walked past the shops and the galleries.
She reached a service door between two shops, and stopped. For an instant, she seemed to hesitate. Then she pressed her fingertip decisively to the access panel. It beeped softly and flashed green; the door slid open, and she went inside.
She descended a tight spiral staircase, while the door shut and locked itself behind her. At the foot of the staircase was a narrow corridor, lit by dull yellow maintenance lights. She walked along the corridor briskly, reached another door, went through.
She found herself in a small space filled with quietly humming machinery - a relay station for the city's EPS grid, she thought. That was not important. What was important was that she was not alone.
The other person in the room was humanoid, dressed in plain brown coveralls... but his face was a leathery demon mask in which red eyes glinted.
"I'm Angelica Moreno," the young woman said.
"I know." The Lethean's face twitched in what might have been a smile. "If you had been anyone else... well, let's just say it's lucky that you're not."
Angelica swallowed, but her voice was steady as she said, "So, you're serious, then?"
"Absolutely." The Lethean stepped towards her, held out his hand. After a moment's confusion, she shook it. "My name is Tharval. Welcome to our... little movement."
Angelica frowned. "Not so little, surely? The Actionists are -"
"Oh, Lyle Anson has plenty of supporters, true enough. But there are only a few of us who are prepared to... make things happen. Votes and slogans are all very well, but - well. Welcome to direct Actionism."
Bitterness tinged her voice. "I don't see how you think an Academy washout is going to make things happen."
"We know why you were dismissed from the Academy," said Tharval. "We know, and we sympathize, we agree with you. The new Starfleet, once we reorganize it, will need people like you, people who aren't fettered by the Prime Directive -"
"The Prime Directive is nothing but hypocrisy!" Angelica said hotly. "It's an excuse, that's all, an excuse for letting people die, letting whole cultures die! We should be doing everything in our power to help in this galaxy -"
Tharval raised his hands. "You'll get no argument from me on that score. But it's quite clear why you could never be useful to Starfleet as it's currently constituted... and why you should help us to change that."
"I still don't see what I -"
"Everyone is valuable. You have skills, I believe? Rated expert in metallurgy - they even sent you on that specialist course to Magamba, did they not? And then they threw all that talent and education away. Such a waste." Tharval's red eyes glinted. "But, besides that, you have the right attitude. Remember, I can see that for myself. You aren't content to be a mere observer, constrained by Starfleet's outmoded rules and regulations. You want to make a difference."
"I -" She looked away, then back at him. "Yes. Yes, I guess I do. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes - even if it does breach that stupid Prime Directive -"
"Of course you are." Tharval took her arm. "So come with us, Angelica. Because we're going to change the world."
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