“This is never going to work.”  Doctor Sunny the Chief Medical Officer moaned; as he stood in the middle of the bridge; facing the main viewer, hands linked behind him, wearing a white knee length medical coat fastened half way, his Starfleet uniform underneath.

“Just trust me doctor.” The Commander said, trying her very best to sound reassuring. “Have a little faith.”

“I don’t know how you ever convinced me to do this?” Was his follow up comment.

“I have District Governor Applewood.”  Phillanie  the communications officer interjected.

“On screen.” Requested Anacostia-Bolling.

The face of a man in his mid-fifties with greased back black hair and rounded face; wearing a rumpled pale grey suit and pink tie, appeared on the screen. “And what would Starfleet want around here?”  He almost sneered with a clean sign of contempt.

“I’m Doctor Sunny Chief Medical Officer.”  The doctor stated, trying to show some an air of authority.  “It’s a medical emergency Governor.”

“What sort of an emergency?” Applewood growled.

“Have you heard of Lamellae Morbus Silakinto?” Sunny asked.

“No, how bad is it?” The Governor looked and sounded a little more agitated now.

“There’s a 12 to 15 percent mortality rate dependant on species.” The doctor replied. “A further 20 percent usually suffer from long term respiratory problems.”

The Governor was visible shocked, and colour in his face was almost completely drained.  “I put you through to our medical team immediately.  Ask them or me for anything and we’ll get it sorted!”

Roughly a quarter of an hour later, Doctor Tanzim Sunny, flopped rather unceremoniously into the Captain’s chair; which the Commander had vacated before communication had been started.  He buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’ve just lied to a Governor and a fellow practitioner!”

Anacostia-Bolling, tapped him gently on the shoulder.  “If it’s any consolation, you did a wonderful job.  You even had me convinced.”

“I’m going to get struck off for this!”  Sunny mumbled.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine.” The Commander said, warmly. “Now get going, you have lives to save.”

**********

Within the space of three hours, a large tented Aid Station had been set up on the Western edge of Reliance City.  Inside; every member of the da Vinci’s medical team a dozen other officers and crew with basic medical training; along with everyone the local medical team could draft in to help at such short notice.

The locals were sceptical to say the least; Starfleet rarely gave this place a look in; and usually only then if they were hunting some criminal.  But news of this deadly disease started to spread; anyone with a cough, sneeze or slight snivel; was looked at in horror as a potential career.  The queues started short, but soon began to grow as morning on the planet turned to afternoon.

Nurse Folland had just finished giving an injection to a mother and her young son; she’d been dealing with a steady flow of people for four hours; with the odd break inbetween.  Sarah knew that this was all a ruse to get someone’s attention, she just didn’t know who or why.  She wasn’t even sure how this strange plan was meant to work.  The injection everyone was being given, was harmless enough, it might even help the sickest of those in Reliance by giving a much needed boost to their immune system.

The next person in her line of people; was a short and stocky, blonde headed man in his early thirties.  He took a seat opposite the nurse as directed; the right sleeve of the shirt he was wearing, already rolled up.  “Tell me nurse, what are the chances of me picking up a disease of the gills, usually only found in fish native to Ferenginar?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean Sir?”  Folland replied.

“This has to be one of the most bizarre and crackpot ideas yet!” The blonde whispered.  “What’s Captain Eglin playing at?”

“Not Eglin, but we need your help.” Folland Stated, as she gave the man his treatment.

“And what’s to stop me just walking out and disappearing into the crowd?” The man enquired.  “You’d have a hard job spotting me amongst this lot.”

The nurse didn’t answer; instead she let him do just that.  She let him stand up and casually walk out of the tent.  Once the man was out of ear shot, Sarah tapped her Com-badge. “Confirmed contact, sample E1168.”

**********

In Transporter Room 2 aboard the USS da Vinci the Chief on duty received the message and locked on the individual who’d been injected with sample E1168.  A few seconds later, that very same person materialised on the pad.  He took one look at the woman dressed in a Starfleet Commanders uniform flanked by two security guards; one of which was a Tellarite, and started laughing.  “That’ll teach me to be nosey!”

“I’m Commander Anacostia-Bolling, welcome aboard the da Vinci.”

“How in Targ, did you manage to lock on to me that quickly?”

The Commander just smiled at him a gestured for the man to step down off the Transporter Pad.

“You tagged the injection.” He pondered mid step. “But you didn’t know who you were looking for.”  There was another pause. “You tagged every single one!”

The Commanders smile was just a little wider now. “If you’d like to come this way.”

“You can track the location of everyone down there!” The blonde blurted out.  “How long for?”

“Just the next couple of months.”  Anacostia-Bolling answered him.

“Captain Eglin is never normally this devious.  Where is he anyway?”

**********

A short while later in the Main Briefing Room, he was given the answer.  The man admitted that it had been his information that had sent Captain Eglin and the Valparaiso into danger by entering the Hydra Cascade.  “It’s why I wanted to stop in the first place.” Sighed the man. “We can save so many lives, but equally we can send people to their deaths.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” The Commander assured him. “Eglin should have waited, there were two other Federation vessels less than eight hours away. His sense equipment wasn’t up to scanning inside the Cascade.”

“But he wanted Armitage, dead or alive.” The man announced bluntly.

Anacostia-Bolling could understand what that meant; waiting around for backup, when you had an old but still fairly powerful ship at your disposal wouldn’t have been on the Captains mind.  But it had been the two things the Valparaiso lacked that had cost him; adequate scanning and shielding.

“Where do you all fit in to this?” She asked him.

“I was his ‘asset’ the final member of a covert team.” The man looked tired and haggard all of a sudden, like an immense weight had just been dropped on his shoulders.  The memories of what had gone on in the past had clearly left their mark. “I’ve been known by many names; right now I’m Quis, usually I refer to myself as Chameleon.”

The Commander looked at the man; understand most of what he’d said but still not completely. “Chameleon?”

“Are you familiar of what happened to James T. Kirk on Rura Penthe?”

“The Klingon prison he and Doctor McCoy where sent to in 2293, after the assassination of Chancellor Gorkon.  But what’s that got to do with you?”

Chameleon had told very few the story of their life, there were bits still unknown, speculation and educated guesswork filling in much of what was missing.  After the Chameloid shapeshifter going by the name of Martia had been killed on Rura Penthe, someone extracted their DNA for future analysis and testing.  Nothing is known of what the Klingons did with it or if they had any success.  A sample of that DNA found its way into the hands of an unknown scientist.  Chameleon was a genetically engineered result of their experimentation; possibly the only surviving example.

“And before you ask me; no I will not demonstrate.” Quis/Chameleon announced bluntly. “The whole experience can be rather painful.”

“Is that why you went into hiding?”  The Commander asking; showing some concern. “We saw you’re potential and used you like a weapon.”

The blonde man nodded solemnly.  “I got rather too good at it, hated myself for that very reason.”

“Why come out of hiding, if we’d treated you like that?”  Mary was both angry and upset.  Starfleet and the Federation had very strong values and rules they adhered to; but it was clear, that sometimes they broke those rules they held so dear.

“The oldest reason in the galaxy; revenge.” Chameleon looked directly into the Commanders eyes. “Commander Armitage tried to kill myself and Eglin about six years ago; during our last mission.  I think I figured out why.”

“How does any of this link into Navaar Orci?” A-B asked. “She was unheard of six years ago.”

“She was a dancer at the club Armitage regularly visited.” Was the response for the man seating opposite.  “I think he did it to prove his loyalty to her or whoever ran the operation before Navaar took over.”