'
|
When one enters the main cabin of the little starship known as the Royal Flush, they are greeted with the height of luxury - plush Valshonian carpeting over the diamond-gridded deck, boring bulkheads disguised by art and sculpture and a wallpapered facade, and fine furniture creatively arranged to both maximize positive feng shui and take advantage of the vessel's natural acceleration. The central seating area, where the often lone occupant sits in comfort on a richly-upholstered couch, is framed by viewports cleverly crafted to resemble a bay window.
While others can be heard in the cockpit, the ship's owner and master, Dr. Nirali, is sitting with tea and crackers and reading the latest headlines on her datapad, her shoes kicked off.
There is a rap on the hull of the ship. Outside is a rather suspicious looking Iseul. For the keen eyed or observant, there is a slight bulge outward at the small of her back, instead of inward that would make sense with her slender build. In one hand, she carries her pda, looking over the message once more.
The Timonae either ignores or fails to notice the sound - it is the pilot in the cockpit who spies the detective and buzzes back to the stateroom. "Doc, there's some human lady here to see you," he announces over the ship's comm.
Dr. Nirali does not even look up. "Send her in," she requests boredly. "I am expecting her."
The heavy airlock hatch cycles for Iseul, opening like the mouth of a beast.
"Doctor," Iseul says cautiously as she steps inside. "I must say that I was a little surprised to see your message. Is there anything that I can help you with?" One dark brow lifts and the detective pads a few feet inside. She does stay rather close to the hatch, however.
"Detective Koh. A pleasure." Kaxina props her cheek up with a fist and lifts her eyes when the other woman appears, though she neither smiles nor rises to greet her guest. "Do come in. If I intended to loose a lion on that pretty face, darling, surely I would not do so after every camera in Drescher Spaceport recorded your boarding my personal transport."
"Call it being cautious," Iseul replies with a faint smile. "It has helped keep me alive in the past." She steps further into the ship and up toward Kaxina. "So what brings me here, Doctor?" she inquires. "I am sure you don't need help with your clients, or if you do, you would be better off speaking with a uniformed officer about it."
Dr. Nirali gets to business, emptying her lungs and tossing her tablet onto the low table before her lounger. "In a way, I do. Do you recall the Mystic who perished on your doorstep? The Eye's son. I may have been incorrect in my interpretation of the vision he granted me," she explains, shoulders and spine straightening out her posture, though her legs remain gathered beneath her. "I wished to speak with you regarding it. You, specifically, because I am not convinced that every other law enforcement official on this little blue world of yours is not a complete buffoon."
"Then why me?" Iseul asks. "What makes you think that I am not also a buffoon, or even worse, a dirty cop?" A smirk graces her features yet it somehow looks wrong when it slides across her lips. "But I do remember the Mystic. We are in the process of investigating his death."
"I did not get to where I am today because I am a poor judge of character, Detective," the kamiroid notes with a too-smug curl of lacquered lips. She jerks her head toward the leather armchair to her right; catty-corner to the table. "Sit. Have a cup of tea. I would have Hawkeye pour for us, but Demarians tend to get," - a brief wrinkle of nose, a short, disgusted flurry of fingers - "fur everywhere."
Iseul slides down into the seat, nodding. "I am quite alright, thank you." She crosses her ankles and perches on the end of the armchair. "So tell me, what exactly did you see?" she asks quietly. "It could be quite important to my investigation."
Kaxina cups the mug and saucer delicately in her slender hands. "A second theory regarding the mesa in the vision has emerged, although I believe it is incorrect," she relates. "Val Shohob, on the Mystic homeworld. Its description does not match what I witnessed with my mind's eye, yet it bears investigation all the same. 'Leave no loose end,' as the saying goes. There is something of a... complication, however." A sip is ferried to her mouth, swallowed, set back onto the waiting dish. "The Pirate King is also interested in these recent developments."
"The Pirate King...?" Iseul asks. A pause before she frowns. "Tomin Kora? Why would anyone off of Tomin Kora care about the death of a Mystic?" She focuses her dark grey eyes on Kaxina. "Unless you believe there is more to this particular Mystic than you have shared at this point?"
"Finding the murderer, solving the mystery, making sense of all these varied and complicated elements surrounding recent events - there is profit and influence to be found, and let me assure you: there is nothing Lord Fagin desires more," Dr. Nirali reminds. "He has eyes in San Angeles. In your very department. And his associates believe that I am one of his. The question is, Detective Koh," stiletto eyebrows lift over hooded eyes, lending a feline amusement to her dark features, "do you believe I am one of his?"
A smile blooms across Iseul's features. "Honestly, Doctor, I believe that you could work for him. However, in that same thought, I believe that you are no one's but your own. You seem the type of woman who would work for the person with the most power for her own gains." Her eyes narrow and she focuses in on Kaxina's features to detect reactions from her statements.
Kaxina shrugs one insouciant shoulder, genuinely unbothered by the human's assessment. "A fair estimation. How do they phrase it on your world? 'Look out for number one?'" The question is rhetorical; the consultant seems entirely disinterested in confirmation or correction. Instead, she steadies her cup of tea and reaches a lanky arm across for her abandon tablet, which she wakes with a touch before cycling through a series of holoscreens. When she has reached a digital identification card - buried beneath layers of airtight security - she passes the device over to Iseul. "It is good that I make you nervous. I could not do my job otherwise."
Iseul takes the tablet with an absent hand and scans through the data. Her eyes snap up to focus on Kaxina and then back down, as if searching for evidence of a fraud. Finding none, she seems confused. She glances back toward the hatch. "Under cover agent. Very clever," she muses. "You had me fooled." She manages a bitter laugh. "So are you here to warn me off of my cases? Be the enforcer? You must also have connections on TK, so will you be dropping me there to end up in an unknown grave? You should know that there are others who know what you people are doing, and we all can't be silenced."
"I am here to work with you, Detective. We are on the same side," Dr. Nirali corrects testily, her frown sudden and severe. "For the past two years I have been tracking the credits flowing from the Calavicci crime family in New York and into the Smuggler's Guild in Freewheeling. I have no desire to be iced by gangsters, nor struck out by the flaring tempers of the jayvee league your city calls a police department. We both have mysteries to solve. You need to find Odalath's killer, and I need to find out why in Maza's wretched gaze Tomin Kora cares about it."
"They say it's an inside job," Iseul says grudgingly. "The San Angeles government. Maybe even taken care of by your own people in the CIS. Now the question is, what do you know? I assume you all don't do much talking amongst yourself, but have you heard any whispers that could lead you to believe that you have people who would do something like that?" She frowns. "Or anything about Kamir artifacts?"
The mention of omnipotent entities prompts a crinkled countenance as confused as it is revulsed. "The bloody Kamir?" Dr. Nirali has no idea what to do with that information, and it shows. Her fore and middle finger scrub at the crease in her forehead. "I know no more than what I told you. Volstov left the matter in my hands; the Eye instructed me to speak with your department. Many of Fagin's agents believe it is a goose chase, but that could very well be a smokescreen - for all we know San Angeles is the testing ground for a weapon of mass destruction. The man supposedly has a nuke beneath his city, after all."
"There is supposedly an artifact that can act as a weapon," Iseul replies. "It's why people have been disappearing. The Eye believes that the government is testing it here, and we have seen the results. If it's true then Fagin could very easily be hoping to bring this under his own control. The power to make anyone you want disappear, just by flicking a button? Very dangerous in the right hands, let alone those with ulterior motives."
"That would explain the Wildfire player, yes. And the Castori, like as not," Dr. Nirali sighs, fingers curling to tap manicured nails on teeth. "Haste is in order. We may not have much time. We have two options, Detective. The first is that we split up in order to cover more ground. Your team investigate Atsehi Mesa, and I will accompany Fagin's men to Val Shohob. You with your own kind, and me with - well, near enough to mine. A Timonae can pass for a Mystic with the proper appointments and affectations."
Iseul frowns, "And what would be the other option?" she asks. "I mean you no offense, but I have to wonder if you're planning to send us off on a wild goose chase, knowing that you will find what you're looking for in Val Shohob."
There is time enough to drink deep from the teacup and replace the china on the table before Kaxina deigns to answer. "The second is that you prove to me that you have earned those plainclothes assignments," she answers, gauging the cop sidelong, "and accompany me, undercover, with the crew of the Fallen Angel."
"Give me a day or two to think on this," Iseul says slowly. "And then I will give you a choice. I lean toward keeping you and this crew in my sights, but there are others I have to answer to. Not that much of this should be repeated to anyone..." She rubs at her forehead. "If you would excuse me, Doctor. We can reconvene very soon."
"Of course," the Timonae allows with a patently nonchalant flutter of an olive hand, as dismissive of the detective herself as it is of the topic. "My identity is strictly on a need-to-know basis. My mission cannot be compromised. Your chief will be able to confirm anything you must needs know about my history with Director Volstov."
Iseul nods, "I assure you that it will not be," she promises. "A good evening to you." She rises to her feet and walks back in the direction of the hatch without another word.