After Max had finished cleaning up and had beamed back down to Serenity to pursue her leads, West had fixed himself a sandwich and coffee, though he would rather have had a margarita. Unfortunately, like most of the other equipment aboard the Rocinanté, the replicator was surplus Starfleet equipment and so only produced synthahol. West swore to himself for the hundredth time that one of these days he was going to have to jury-rig the thing to make some *real* drinks for him and not that swill that passed for tolerable on so many 'civilized' worlds these days.
He got a couple of jelly donuts out of the replicator for Gromit, who wasted no time but tore into them like he hadn't eaten for minutes!
Sandwich in hand, West planted himself in front of the library computer and set about hacking into the security systems of Serenity City's Plaza Hotel, the site of the Snark's ill-fated foray into human-powered flight. He cursed under his breath when some crumbs from his sandwich fell into data port on the console top. He tried brushing away the remainder, but succeeded instead in almost knocking over the cup of coffee. He cursed again, louder this time, but froze solid when the computer bleeped a quick series of beeps at him. Luckily, it was just signaling that it was ready to begin its cyber-assault against the Plaza's A.I. system, so he relaxed again.
With sudden inspiration born of clever ingenuity and finely-honed male laziness, he picked up Gromit from where the tribble was already polishing off his second donut and put him on the library computer console, confident that the insatiable eating machine would clean up every last crumb it found.
The computer would take a little while to wage its cyber-war, so West returned to the little marble the Snark had given Max. He turned it over and over in his fingers and wondered at its unusually small size -- only half a centimeter across. He tossed it in the air and watched as it flickered darkly in the cabin's electric light. West caught it and looked closer, squinting as he held it up in front of his face. The edges danced with energy, but the center of the tiny glass sphere boiled in a myriad of pinpoint eruptions of darkness, like a miniature galaxy of swirling black holes. The unnatural 'un-light' seemed to absorb the light and warmth from the very air surrounding the marble.
Intrigued, he got up from his chair and retrieved his surplus Starfleet tricorder from a dresser drawer. Setting the marble on the tabletop, he pointed the tricorder at it. The marble's aura of un-light increased as the scanning beams hit it, as did the arcing electrical activity.
West's right eyebrow went up in a very Vulcan-like mannerism as he watched the marble interact with his tricorder, and a few seconds later, his left eyebrow joined its fellow in surprise when the tricorder bleeped in frustration and delivered a completely blank scan result.
"Now that's interesting..." he murmured, delighted by this new mystery like a little boy just introduced to a new game. "What are you made of, my little friend?"
"Sugar and spice and everything nice," said Max's voice from the cabin door behind West. "But let's keep that our little secret."
West turned and smirked. "Who'd believe me anyway?" he asked.
"Funny. What have you got going here?"
"I just tried to scan your marble," replied West, pointing to the little glass bead resting on the tabletop. The tricorder came up blank."
"What do you mean 'blank'?"
"I mean just that. Blank. No result. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Goose egg. A big fat--" At Max's black look, West decided to cool it. No use risking his life, especially given the recent rockiness of their relationship. He elaborated on his initial statement. "If you look really closely, the marble is actually a hollow glass sphere, and there's some sort of clear liquid inside. Whatever it is, it completely absorbed the subspace radiation of the tricorder's scanning beams.
Max eyed the marble suspiciously. "Is it dangerous?"
West shrugged. "I hope not. I've had the damn thing in my front pocket since you left!" He picked up the little glass sphere and tossed it to Max. "It's not giving off any radiation -- just absorbing it."
"This just gets weirder and weirder." Max peered into the marble's strange black depths.
"What did you find out from your buddy Rick?" asked West.
"He wouldn't tell me much," replied Max, putting the marble back on the table, "but he did mention that the Snark and the Boojum were once *partners* in crime instead of rival crime lords."
"Ya don't say."
Max nodded and sat on the edge of the bunk. "Seems they had a parting of the ways right around the same time they raided some sort of super-top-secret Federation R&D facility hidden somewhere deep inside the Briar Patch. No one knows what the scientists were cooking up there, but rumor has it that it was some kind of genetic or bio-research lab and that they were using the weird metaphasic radiation in the Briar Patch somehow. No one knows why two crime bosses would want to raid a place like that, or what happened when they did, but ever since that day, the Snark has been trying to kill the Boojum."
"Hmm..." grunted West thoughtfully.
The library computer beeped for attention. West moved Gromit off the now crumb-free keypad and sat back down in front of the screen. Max stood behind him and looked over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I've tapped into the security camera footage from the Plaza Hotel room where the Snark was killed."
"Y'know... for someone who absolutely forbade me to take on this bounty hunting job, you sure are helping a lot."
West shrugged. "Morbid curiosity," he replied with forced airiness. "I still think you should leave it alone, but I know you won't listen to me." West finished the sentence in a tone of voice that straddled a very fine line between resignation and accusation.
Max was spared the necessity of defending herself, at least for now, by the library computer. The machine beeped again and a grainy image of a luxury hotel suite appeared on the screen. The corner of a turned-down bed, a small mahogany table and a gilt lamp could be seen, as well as the window wall overlooking the Serenity City skyline, the window through which the Snark would very shortly be thrown. The time stamp in the lower right corner indicated it was just before the Snark's murder.
A powerfully built Ktarian burst into the camera frame, skidded to a stop, and leveled a big, mean-looking disruptor pistol at someone off camera. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his horned forehead. His gun hand shook harder than a drunken Californian during the Hermosa Quake of 2047.
"Boojum!" rasped the image of the Snark on the computer screen. "The charade is over! You know I'm doing it for your own good! Don't fight it!"
The response was immediate and as subtle as a proto-Klingon in an Elaysian crystal shop. A brilliant full-power disruptor beam slammed into the center of the Snark's chest, yanking the enormous Ktarian backwards off his feet and throwing him against the big window. The shatter-proof safety plaz might as well have been made out of smoke for all the obstacle it posed -- the pane exploded outward in a thousand razor shards under the combined effect of the disruptor and the Snark's tonnage -- and suddenly, the Snark was airborne.
Max turned away from the screen. She didn't need an instant replay. She'd had a front-row seat for the live performance.