Текст книги "Summon the Thunder"

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

“Yes?”

“What happens with the commodore stays with the commodore,” he said. “No obligations to share with me, know what I mean?”

“ Only if you make the same promise,”Desai countered, and Fisher imagined he could see her smiling on the other end of the channel.

“No problem. You know me. We’ll leave shop talk in our offices and just bad-mouth your boyfriend. Deal?”

The genuine laughter filtering through the intercom made him smile in satisfaction. “ Agreed. Desai out.”

As the connection was severed, Fisher actually felt relieved that Reyes finally had brought Desai into the fold, in a manner of speaking. In the doctor’s opinion, the commodore needed a confidant, someone he could trust with the very human moments of indecision and struggle that he could never reveal to his staff. That Desai was that counsel and not Fisher himself did nothing to bruise his perceived standing with his friend. After five decades in service to Starfleet and knowing Reyes as long as he had, the doctor had carried more than his share of confidences; he certainly felt no need to gather any more.

He knew also that Desai would at times be troubled by the things she surely would discover as Vanguard’s mission in the Taurus Reach continued. Such anxiety no doubt would be exacerbated by the fact that Reyes would have ordered her to keep much of what she learned to herself.

Welcome to the club, Rana,Fisher mused. Diego’s giving me plenty that I can’t share with you, either.

44

“The Jinoteur system,” T’Prynn said as she regarded Commodore Reyes, Lieutenant Xiong, and Ambassador Jetanien in what was becoming something of a ritual—a clandestine meeting within the secured confines of Reyes’s quarters. “So named as part of Federation long-range stellar-cartography missions conducted two years ago during our preliminary investigations of the Taurus Reach. Except for unmanned probes, this system remains unexplored.”

T’Prynn.

She kept her hands clasped behind her, hoping none of the others would see how nails dug into her palms, the sole physical manifestation of the struggle she found herself pursuing even as she endeavored to maintain her composure and carry out her present duties.

Leave me,her mind implored.

Submit,Sten responded, the simple command embodying her long-dead lover’s katra,fighting as always to push aside her own thoughts in a bid to assert its dominance over her.

Forcing away the summons, T’Prynn turned back to the viewscreen situated just to her left. Depicted upon it was a standard computer-generated representation of a solar system. At the center of the image was a large white sun, and orbiting it were five planets, situated on different planes and describing orbits at varying angles around the star, with those tracks further depicted in a different color.

“As you know,” she said, “this is the origin point for the carrier wave we discovered interfering with the station’s systems several months ago.” She indicated Xiong with a nod of her head. “The lieutenant and his team did an admirable job tracking the source of the signal, and the sensor data I’ve since obtained offers us insight into this system that I believe you will find most intriguing.” She tapped a command sequence into the keypad next to the viewscreen, and the image shifted to zoom in on the first planet. The blue circle illustrating its orbit vanished as the picture was enlarged and enhanced to display the planet’s two moons.

“Three of the five planets each possess two natural satellites,” she said, “while one of the others has three moons and the other four. While the sensor data presently available to us shows that none of the planets appear to be inhabited, there are indications of a civilization that might once have existed on the fourth planet.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, Commander,” Jetanien said from where he stood before Reyes’s desk, “but it is my understanding that save for a single long-range probe assigned to star-mapping duties in that sector two years ago, we have little to no information on this area of the Taurus Reach.”

“You are not wrong, Your Excellency,” T’Prynn replied. “This information was delivered to us via different means.”

The ambassador let loose with his version of a laugh, which to the Vulcan sounded more like the low rumbling of an avalanche on a rocky slope. “I take it from your lack of clarification that you’d rather not divulge your source?”

Her right eyebrow raising a notch, T’Prynn nodded once. “That is correct, sir. This data was obtained from a Klingon sensor drone, though the particular aspects of how it came to be in our possession are classified.” Looking to Reyes, she asked, “Would you not agree, Commodore?”

“Don’t let me stop you, Commander,” Reyes replied, his words laced with sarcasm. “I’m assuming you were able to obtain this information in a manner that won’t put us at war with the Klingon Empire, at least not before dinner?” There was no mistaking the expression of dissatisfaction on her superior officer’s face.

While T’Prynn was aware of Reyes’s penchant for delegating authority rather than hovering over his subordinates’ shoulders while they carried out their duties, she knew also that he did not like being kept out of the information loop, nor did he appreciate being caught by unexpected turns of events or—as humans referred to them—surprises. She had learned that much while dispatching the problem with the journalist, Pennington, the previous month.

Despite that and given the immense security concerns surrounding Vanguard’s primary task, there were some aspects of her assignment which required insulation even from Reyes, for the good of the mission as well as the commodore himself. The less he knew about certain actions undertaken by her, the less he had to consider imparting to others who might not share the same outlook with regard to security. Lieutenant Xiong, for example.

Captain Desai, for another.

Submit,Sten demanded.

Be silent,she responded.

“Rest assured, sir,” T’Prynn said, “that this information was obtained through methods which cannot be traced back to Starfleet.” While Quinn’s destruction of the drone while making his escape from the pirate vessel was unfortunate, the Vulcan had weighed the risk of that development and considered it to be minimal. It would be weeks before the empire concluded that the probe was lost, after which they likely would assume that the drone had fallen victim to malfunction or—at worst—piracy.

Not so far from the truth, after all.

Considering her answer, Reyes frowned. “I feel more relaxed already.” Indicating the viewscreen with a nod of his head, he asked, “So, what’s so special about this system that it required going to such an effort to get info on it?”

T’Prynn keyed the control pad again, causing the image on the viewer to zoom in closer to one of the moons. “The sensor data reveals an interesting trait shared by all of the natural satellites in this system. Each of the moons follows an orbital path that never places them between their host planets and the system’s star.”

“Interesting?” Jetanien said. “I would characterize that description of yours as an understatement, Commander.”

“Is that even possible?” Reyes asked, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

T’Prynn nodded. “I verified the data myself, Commodore. It is conclusive.”

“And it gets better,” Xiong said from where he sat in one of the two chairs situated before Reyes’s desk. “While the moons exhibit rotation, they do so in concert with their orbits so that one hemisphere always faces outward, away from the center of the system. Further, the sensor data Commander T’Prynn obtained indicates the presence of artificial structures in those outward-facing hemispheres.”

“The signal originated from one of the moons orbiting the fourth planet,” T’Prynn said. “According to the sensor data, the power readings emanating from that point match those we already have recorded on Erilon and Palgrenax.”

“Now why did I see that one coming?” Reyes said as he leaned forward in his chair. Rubbing his chin with the back of his right hand, he asked, “So, the signal. Was it intended to link with either or both of those planets? What about other locations?”

You belong to me,Sten prodded.

Never.

Shaking her head, T’Prynn replied, “We do not know yet, sir. The facts currently available to us could be used to support several theories, sir, though I am reluctant to engage in speculation until we have had an opportunity to gather more information.”

“Well, that’s never stopped me,” Reyes said. Standing up, he moved across the office to stand before the viewscreen. He touched the keypad, changing the image to again depict the first planet along with its two moons. Pointing to one of the moons, he said, “If these are always facing outward, that means their orbits around their planets, coupled with the planets’ own revolution around the sun, might provide a means of monitoring the system’s outer perimeter.”

“An early-warning network?” Jetanien offered.

Reyes nodded. “Think about it. Our outposts along the Neutral Zone are covered with sensors and monitoring devices that all point into Romulan space, monitoring for signs of activity on the other side of the border. It’s the same basic concept.”

“Such a deployment of similar assets would presuppose something of extreme value or importance located within the system,” Xiong said.

“Something important enough to control the orbits of thirteen moons?” Reyes asked. “Yeah, I think that might be a possibility, Lieutenant.” Frowning, he turned to T’Prynn. “What about the carrier wave? We already think it was some kind of warning signal. This would fit in with what I’m proposing.”

“Assuming your theory has any basis in reality,” the Vulcan replied, “the signal we intercepted would be a form of communication, either between the planets or something intended for other locations.”

“Something automated,” Xiong said, “perhaps designed to be triggered in reaction to a specific event or set of events.” Looking to the others, he added, “We are talking about a race of beings able to change the course of astral bodies and who apparently were genetic engineers of the first order. What precisely would they have to fear? It would have to be something rather uncommon, and therefore rare in occurrence.”

Reyes shrugged. “Maybe the warning, if that’s even what it was, is just one kind of signal. Seems to me if they’d gone to the trouble to communicate between distant points in space, they’d want to do it for all sorts of reasons.”

“An interesting theory,” T’Prynn said. If Reyes’s hypothesis was correct, it presupposed a race of beings possessing technology and power beyond that of any species ever encountered, even more advanced than what already was theorized just based on what she and her companions knew of the meta-genome. Logic suggested that the originators of all that had been found by Lieutenant Xiong and his teams to this point were long dead, which meant that their vast storehouse of superior knowledge remained hidden, concealed deep within the Taurus Reach, waiting for someone to find it.

Submit!

The force behind the directive caught her off guard, Sten’s katraasserting itself once more and all but drowning out the question Reyes put to Jetanien. She did not hear the commodore’s words, instead marshaling all of her mental disciplines to beat back the essence of her long-dead fiancé.

Leave me alone!

The command pressed into the dark, distant corners of her mind even as T’Prynn forced herself to remain standing as she was, schooling her features to offer no clue to the others in the room that anything was amiss. A quick glance to her companions showed that her efforts had been successful, as Reyes and the ambassador were continuing their conversation while Lieutenant Xiong watched and listened.

“The Tholians must know something,” Jetanien was saying. “It’s the only logical explanation for their actions to this point. That said, I do not believe they are aware of their own apparent connection to what we’ve found.” He rolled his shoulders while emitting a new string of clicks. “Based on my contacts with them to date, if they do know more than they are revealing to us, then they are by far the most consummate actors it has ever been my privilege to watch perform.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Reyes said, “Well, I think we can agree that they’ve got some of the best poker faces at the table.” He smiled at his own poor joke before beginning to pace the length of his office. “Mr. Xiong, I suppose you know what your next assignment is going to be?”

The lieutenant nodded. “Yes, sir. A visit to the Jinoteur system.”

“Eventually,” Reyes countered. “I want that place given a complete once-over before we send you and your team in. Whatever’s making use of the technology we’re finding on these planets, they’ve been a step ahead of us for weeks, and that has to change. We got lucky on Erilon, but we can’t count on that happening again.”

“Our efforts should be on learning how to access that technology ourselves,” T’Prynn added. “Mr. Xiong has already provided us with valuable insight in that regard. It is my opinion that his talents can best be utilized to continue that investigation.”

“Absolutely,” Jetanien said. “I would also add that determining the identity of our mysterious interloper from Erilon would also be of benefit. If there are others like him, it’s crucial we find them before our enemies do.”

“There’s that gift for understatement again,” Reyes said as he made his way back behind his desk. “Well, I think we’ve got more than enough to chew on for one day. If there are no objections, I’d like to go to my quarters and slip into a coma.”

Following Jetanien out of the commodore’s office, T’Prynn was careful to keep her hands clasped behind her back, hoping as she passed Xiong that the lieutenant would not notice any traces of green blood she was certain seeped from between her fingers.

You are mine.

I would rather die.

Death will not free you.

“Commander,” Xiong said from behind her. “Are you all right?”

Turning to face the younger officer, T’Prynn regarded him with as stoic an expression as she could muster. “I beg your pardon?”

Xiong seemed overcome by a bout of nervousness, no doubt owing to his inexperience in dealing with members of the opposite gender, she decided. “You seem…unwell.”

Her posture stiffening, T’Prynn replied, “I am fine. If you will excuse me, I must return to my duties.”

“Yes, of course,” Xiong replied, nodding. “I meant no offense.”

“Offense is a human emotion, Lieutenant,” she replied. Seeing the expression on his face and realizing the words had been delivered with more of an edge than she had intended, she added, “That said, your inquiry is appreciated. Good evening.”

She watched him depart, waiting until she was alone and none of the other personnel on duty in the operations center appeared to be looking in her direction before finally bringing her hands around so that she could see them.

Other than the impressions made by her manicured nails, there were no visible injuries or blemishes.

Submit,Sten goaded again, his katrafeeling like a physical weight pressing down upon her mind.

Meditation,T’Prynn decided as she turned on her heel and marched toward the turbolift. That was what she required now. Once more she called upon the mental exercises taught to her by the Adepts. Fatigue and the need to constantly focus on her myriad and demanding duties had caused her to lose the focus that was vital to keeping her fiancé contained within the cage she had erected for him within the depths of her mind. Her lapse had allowed Sten to escape that prison, and it was now time to pummel him back into it.

You will never know peace, so long as you resist me,he said.

Then I shall never know peace.

T’Prynn opened her eyes, only to discover that she no longer was in the operations center. Looking around, she was alarmed to find herself standing in what she recognized as a corridor within the apartment complex located in Stars Landing, Vanguard’s civilian residential and commercial area. The carpeted deck, the walls painted in muted colors, and the irregular placement of plants and artwork lent the passageway an air distinctly different from that of the passageways connecting the quarters assigned to the station’s Starfleet contingent.

She held no memory of the turbolift ride down from operations, or of how she had come to be here, either on foot or via the subshuttle tube encircling Fontana Meadow.

Fascinating.

Of equal interest to her was her exact location. Stepping closer to the door before her—its duranium surface coated with a synthetic polymer designed to simulate the dark wood of a native Earth tree—T’Prynn reached out and with her fingers caressed the small black plate etched with white lettering that denoted the apartment number. It took only an instant to search her memory and recall the identity of the resident assigned to these quarters.

Timothy D. Pennington.

Of all the places on the station to which she might have come, why here? The reporter was not a friend of hers, or even a casual acquaintance, their only interaction coming as a result of his bothersome investigations into the Bombayincident and the steps she had taken to neutralize the threat his efforts represented.

Perhaps regret has guided you here, or even guilt.

T’Prynn could not determine if the voice taunting her was Sten’s or a product of her own turbulent thoughts. Regardless, she refused to accept the notion. Diffusing the credibility of the story Pennington had submitted regarding the loss of the Bombayand the Tholians’ culpability in the incident had served a valuable purpose, of that she was certain. That the journalist had endured both professional and personal difficulty as a result of her actions was an unfortunate yet necessary collateral consequence. While one life had been disrupted, to be sure, countless others that would have been at risk in the face of a Federation-Tholian conflict had instead been safeguarded.

Logic demanded no other course.

Is it truly that simple?

“Enough.”

The word, spoken aloud, startled T’Prynn, and she looked around to see if anyone might have overheard her. She was relieved to see that the corridor remained empty, but it would not stay that way. It would be prudent to depart before her presence here engendered questions from passersby that best were left unasked.

Still, returning to her quarters was not an option she welcomed. While she knew meditation would ease her current mental turmoil, the truth was that fatigue was tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Attempting to meditate in such a state would be problematic at best.

Alone in the corridor, T’Prynn allowed the ghost of a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth. No, she decided as she turned and headed for the row of turbolifts servicing this area of the apartment complex, another means of relaxation would be better.

45

Silence engulfed the bridge of the Bloodied Talon,acutely palpable and yet seeming so vulnerable that Sarith feared any movement or hint of sound might destroy not only the envelope of quiet but also any chance for survival remaining to her and her crew.

“Distance three thousand mat’drih,”Darjil said, his voice low. “Approaching from astern, Commander.”

Sarith heard the mounting tension in the centurion’s voice despite his best efforts to maintain his bearing. Hearing the younger officer provide the report from sensors that normally would have been delivered by N’tovek was like an abrasive pad rubbed against an open and raw wound. She ignored her personal grief, pushing it aside as duty demanded, and instead returned her focus to the Klingon battle cruiser depicted on the main viewscreen.

Sensors had first detected the vessel near the end of the previous duty shift. The ship’s presence followed that of an automated sensor probe, also of Klingon design, which had passed within three light-years of the Talontwo days earlier. Analysis of the cruiser’s course showed that it was mirroring that of the drone, perhaps searching for signs of Tholian activity in the vicinity of the Palgrenax system.

“It seems someone knows we are here,” Ineti said from where he stood beside her.

Nodding, Sarith replied, “They know something is here, that much is certain.” Stepping toward the central hub, she leaned closer to Darjil in order to see his workstation’s sensor display. Recognizing the standard search pattern the Klingon ship was effecting, she shook her head. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

The portent of unfortunate things to come had arrived in the form of a systems status report delivered by her chief engineering officer, Jacius, during the early hours of the previous day. One of the distribution nodes channeling power to the Talon’s cloaking device had failed and, according to Jacius, there were no replacements.

All options to manufacture a substitute using available materials had also been explored and exhausted, the result being that while the cloak still functioned to maintain the ship’s practical invisibility, the concealment of its power emissions no longer was total. Though the odds were fair that a passing vessel might not register the wounded ship’s presence, if someone were to take the time to examine sensor readings for anomalies, they might find sufficient reason to arouse suspicion.

The destruction of a planet surely was enough to heighten someone’s vigilance,Sarith mused.

With that in mind, she had ordered a circuitous route out of the Taurus Reach, plotting a course that would not offer any clues that the ship, if discovered, was making an attempt to travel toward Romulan space. It was a simple plan, though one she hoped would at least avoid providing any additional clues as to their identity should they be detected.

Studying the sensor data, Sarith frowned as she weighed the situation. “They are sweeping the area with full sensors,” she said. “Their weapons are armed, but their shields are down.” She shook her head. “Typical Klingon arrogance.”

“You expected something else?” Ineti asked, offering a small smile. “So far as the Klingons know, they possess the most formidable vessels in this area of space. The Tholians certainly have nothing to stand against them.”

It was a logical assessment, Sarith agreed, even though it did not take into account the capabilities of whatever ships the Federation might have deployed into the region. While spies had smuggled information on Starfleet’s current and proposed starship designs back to Romulus over the years—information that Sarith had read and absorbed prior to departing on this mission—that was altogether different from seeing such a vessel firsthand.

Once more, she felt momentary regret that she would not have such an opportunity, a sensation she had experienced several times since misfortune had fallen upon the Talon. Facing off with a Starfleet vessel was something to which many Romulan ship commanders aspired, all of whom had been raised on stories of the war the empire had waged and failed to win against Earth and its allies.

Sarith would not achieve that goal, just as she knew she had failed to accomplish her primary mission here. The Federation’s motivations for venturing into the Taurus Reach, and why that expansion had triggered such vociferous reactions not only from the Klingons but the Tholians as well, would remain a mystery to the Romulan people for a while longer.

“Sixteen hundred mat’drihand closing, Commander,” Darjil reported, looking away from his station to regard her with an expression of heightening anxiety. Sarith understood the centurion’s cause for concern. The enemy ship was mere moments from being able to detect her own wounded vessel.

“Are they in contact with anyone?” she asked.

Darjil shook his head. “No, Commander. They have not established communications frequencies or dispatched any messages since entering sensor range.”

“That means they still do not know for what they search,” Ineti said, stepping closer to the central workstations. “If we are going to act, Commander, then now is the time.”

“Agreed,” Sarith said, knowing without the need for clarification what her trusted friend was implying. What she did not tell him was that it was not the action he had implicitly proposed but merely his concerns with which she concurred. He was right to suggest what he had, of course, as it was the one option that would ensure her ship was not discovered and captured by the approaching enemy vessel.

As she considered the measure, her eyes drifted to the control console situated along one side of the bridge’s central hub, the single station that was coded for access only by herself and Ineti. She regarded the set of switches positioned there, her mind recalling the proper sequence needed to set the protocol into motion. It would take only seconds, and when it was over, there would be nothing left of her ship for an enemy to recover.

Duty demanded Sarith take that action—now.

She felt her jaw clench at the notion as she regarded the Klingon ship on the screen. The idea that she must commit suicide because of the chance wanderings of pitiful dregs such as those crewing the approaching vessel made her want to vomit. No,she decided, there is another way.

At the sensor console, Darjil called out, “Enemy vessel has altered its course, Commander, heading directly toward us. Eight hundred mat’drihand closing.”

Straightening her posture, Sarith turned to Jacius, who had come to the bridge to monitor shipboard systems from here rather than dwell in the depths of the ship’s engineering section. “Can we arm weapons without being detected?”

Jacius nodded. “Yes, though our power signature will become more noticeable if the Klingon ship comes any closer.”

“Let it be noticeable, then,” Sarith replied as she locked eyes with Ineti. “With the exception of the cloak, reroute all power to the weapons. On my command, channel that power to forward disruptors, as well.”

Ineti smiled. “One last triumphant battle for the Praetor?” he asked.

Unable to return the expression, Sarith nodded before turning her attention to the expectant faces of her officers. As one, they all looked to her, loyal to the end, ready to carry out whatever orders she gave them in service to the empire.

Then her eyes fell on the battle cruiser now dominating the viewer, its bulbous primary hull looming as though preparing to burst through the screen. She imagined she could almost see the faces of Klingons looking out through the ports peppering the hull, unprepared for what was to come next.

“One last duty to perform,” Sarith said after a moment, her reply punctuated by the proximity alert signal emitted by the sensor console, notifying everyone on the bridge that the Klingon ship had closed to prime weapons range and telling her it was time to issue her final order as commander of the Bloodied Talon,servant and protector of the Romulan Star Empire.

“Execute.”