Touching Base

[Chirakis 1]

Touching Base

 

“It isss the sssame here,” Resssk’s deep Gorn hissed through subspace, the universal translator barely able to keep pace. “Sssmall thingsss misssing, nothing of consssequenssse, all disssappearing expertly asss though by apparition.” The Gorn word for magic didn’t quite translate, making a redundancy with the word disappear.

 

“Gotta tell ya, Kir,” said Sonny, his face more prominent on the split-screen as he leaned forward with an air of confidentiality, “...it’s just plain weird. Like your engineer said, one minute you’re working, move to another area and come back, and whoosh...” his hands smacked together and flew across the screen, “... it’s just not there. Gone... poof... vanished. No record of transport... nowhere to be found. And little stuff. Nothin’ that really matters, y’know? Reminds me of the pickpockets on Capella Nine.” He muttered the last, having been stung several times by their light-fingered expertise.

 

“And t’Pak?” Resssk would have raised an inquisitive eyebrow if he had one.

 

“In deep cover,” the Bajoran replied, “but she reports the same. Medical supplies, science equipment, assorted engineering tools, and, strangely enough, food.” Kirel tossed the PADD she was holding aside and swiveled her chair towards the sector map, visible to all in her immediate background. Tjurakh strike points were red, theft points in yellow; an attempt to spot any connection between the two.

 

“So far, there seems to be no correlation with the Tjurakh, but there is a pattern to the thefts.” A flick of her wrist dimmed the red Tjurakh strike points and brightened the areas of theft. “They’ve all taken place in colonies or on planets in border regions of Federation, Ferengi, and Cardassian space, with Aegis and Deep Space Three being the only stations affected, both of which are in the process of renovation or repair. Connect the points and a semi-circle appears...” she flicked her wrist again, “...the radii of which intersect here.”

 

“What the heck’s there?” Sonny’s voice came from behind her as the screen zoomed in.

 

“A sssmall sssyssstem, previousssly consssidered uninhabited...”

 

“Small enough to be overlooked...” Kirel swiveled back to face the subspace console. “... and small enough to hide in. But it still doesn’t answer the question why....”

 

“...or why the small stuff,” Sonny finished with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So... you got a few in the slammer?”

 

“We do.” The station commander gave each a questioning glance that was met with a shrug from Sonny and a clack of the Gorn’s mantibles, both negative expressions she knew well. “Nor does t’Pak report any prisoners taken. Those we have are gravely ill and we have, as yet, no diagnosis.”

 

The rest of their conversation involved routine reports, which took little time. An hour later found Chirakis on her way to sick bay, hoping they didn’t have a major plague on their hands.