Seven hundred. That was the latest reported number of cases, the number that would soon be dead. Soon though, the lockdown’s effect would start to show. That meant they were just about at the peak. It was time for his next move.

The turbolift whirred to life as it ferried Frank Negrescu from his covert hideaway through the cavernous superstructure of the Canopus-class starbase. Starfleet had been hunting him, but they’d never come close. Not that he’d expected them to. He’d evaded far more devious foes for far longer. Starfleet, with all the restraints it puts upon its men, couldn’t hold a candle to the Tal’Shiar or the Obsidian Order, and neither of them had caught him either.

After a short ride, the turbolift drew to a halt, its doors opening to welcome him onto the main promenade. Usually packed with visitors, it was completely devoid of life now, a far cry from what it had been just a few days earlier when Captain Kioshi had confronted him over a glass of fine Aldebaran whisky. The old man was a fool, but he’d been right about one thing: death was coming. It wasn’t Negrescu’s fault though. No, fault lay with the captain, and all those like him. They were charged with protecting the Federation, but they’d been asleep at the wheel as it barreled towards oblivion. Maybe this would be their wake up call. But probably not.

Dressed in dark gray cargo pants and a black leather jacket, Negrescu made no effort to hide himself as he meandered along the empty concourse, peering through darkened shop windows and perusing display cases. The time for hiding was over, but there was no one here to find him. They were either looking for him elsewhere or they were occupied tending to the dying souls filling in their infirmaries.

Eventually, Frank Negrescu found himself sitting against a wide sweeping window, nibbling on a Denobulan scone he’d helped himself to from one of the concession stands. Looking out at the starscape, he could see the Odyssey class spaceframe of the USS Polaris hanging stationary in the distance. What shape was Admiral Reyes’ ship in? Had the contagion made the leap to her flagship? She’d be important in what was to come next.

“Stop!”

Finally, Negrescu thought to himself as he set down his scone.

“What are you doing up here?”

Negrescu turned slowly to see a security officer, clad in a hazard suit, standing at a distance of nearly twenty meters. The man didn’t dare advance closer. Even with his breather, he knew the risks. The contagion could be anywhere, and everyone was a threat.

“You’re not supposed to be up here. By order of the health officer…” 

But then he stopped mid-sentence. Suddenly, the contagion was the least of the security officer’s worries. He recognized the balding old man. This was Frank Negrescu, the person of interest they’d been briefed on by Captain Kioshi.

“Stay right where you are!” 

The security officer’s phaser came up as he spoke.

“I’d rather not,” smirked Negrescu, unperturbed by the sidearm now leveled at him. It wasn’t like this kid would shoot, and even if he did, it was certainly set to stun. “But since we’re here, why don’t you be a doll and call someone with a bit more authority than you?”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Actually, it is,” Negrescu chuckled condescendingly. He studied patterns and processes for a living, as those patterns and processes were where weaknesses manifested. “You’re not going to apprehend me alone. You’ve certainly been told that I’m armed and dangerous, so policy dictates you call for backup, and when they hear who you’ve got here, they’ll send someone with more pips.”

The former intelligence captain wasn’t wrong, and after an embarrassingly long few minutes, the security officer holding him at gunpoint awkwardly while he leaned back relaxedly in his chair, a small troupe arrived. Just like the first security officer, the four newly arrived were clad in hazard suits, but unlike him, they carried rifles, not sidearms. Not that it mattered though. None of this bravado would keep them safe from the real enemy.

“Commander Eriksson,” Negrescu smiled as his eyes fell on the eldest among them, the chief of station security that he recognized from his review of the station’s dossiers. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” He’d been surveilling the chief and his men as they searched futilely for him. “A valiant effort, but a sorry waste of time.”

“Frank Negrescu,” Commander Eriksson replied gruffly, both pleased they’d found him but also disappointed Captain Kioshi had been right. “You must know it’s not safe to be out and about?” He chose to start in simple terms, to try and elicit some more information from the old man.

“Oh no, it’s perfectly safe for me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I need not explain myself to you,” Negrescu replied sharply. He needed someone with more influence, and someone he could trust. The chief was just a mid-level functionary.

“Then who will you explain yourself to?”

“How about Captain Jake Lewis?” Negrescu asked.

“He’s not here,” Commander Eriksson frowned, curious why the shady old man was asking about a commanding officer from one of Polaris squadron’s ships. “He and the Serenity are otherwise indisposed.” The Duderstadt-class fast cruiser had been lost in the final moments of the Underspace crisis, but the commander chose to stay vague on the details.

That was a twist Negrescu hadn’t expected. He’d been out of the loop for too long. Looking out the window, he settled for the second best option. “Well, since I see the Polaris isn’t otherwise indisposed, how about Admiral Reyes then?” If his protege wasn’t available, the fleet admiral would be the next best option. They had a history. He trusted her, and she’d trust him.

“She’s not here either,” Commander Eriksson replied, entertaining the old man out of curiosity. “Left with the Diligent a week ago.” Again, he dared not elaborate further until he knew more.

Unfortunate, Negrescu thought to himself. It meant he was going to have to improvise. “How about Grayson then?” He’d never met the rear admiral before, but given the trauma he lived with, Alexander Michael Grayson was the sort that might do what needed to be done.

Commander Eriksson stared at him warily. “How about the brig, instead?” He wasn’t going to take this dangerous man of dubious motives to the sector commander.

“If you want this to end,” Negrescu stated darkly, his eyes narrowing on the chief. “You’ll do as I say.”