Текст книги "Summon the Thunder"

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

Elsewhere

50

No matter how many times he entered the hallowed chamber of the Romulan Senate, Praetor Vrax never once failed to appreciate the sensation of near-reverence he experienced. Regardless of the situation at hand and despite whatever mental burden plagued him on any given day, he always paused for a moment to reflect upon the history and power emanating from this room.

For what it lacked in size, the Senate Chamber more than compensated with its grandiose appointments, furnishings, and perhaps even the arrogance that had embodied its construction. Situated at the geographic center of Dartha, the capital city of Romulus, the circular hall remained largely unchanged from the first time Vrax had entered its storied confines as a junior senator more than a century earlier. Pairs of polished marble columns positioned equidistantly around the chamber’s perimeter supported its high, domed ceiling. Ornate tapestries decorated the walls, and granite tiles dominated the room’s open debate floor, upon which had been painted an artist’s rendition of a star map depicting the expanse of the Romulan Star Empire as well as the border it shared with the United Federation of Planets.

What Vrax also never failed to notice upon his entry into the Senate Chamber was that the map had remained unaltered for nearly as long as he had been coming to this revered place.

In due time, and with good fortune on our side, that will change,he reminded himself.

The proconsul, Sret, brought the chamber to order as Vrax stepped farther into the room. Various conversations taking place between senators and onlookers extinguished as everyone rose in deference to his arrival. Relying on his cane while eschewing his aide’s offer of assistance to reach his chair at the center of the dais situated along the chamber’s northern wall, Vrax nodded to several of the senators he passed as he took his place. Before lowering his aged body into his seat, he paused to regard the audience of politicians gathered here this evening. The audience seating area, which consisted of four rows of seats positioned opposite the senatorial stage, was empty on this day, in keeping with the private nature of this closed session.

“Greetings, Praetor,” Proconsul Sret said, offering a formal nod that Vrax knew to be no more genuine than the majority of military and political accomplishments with which the younger man chose to embellish his official biography. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us at this late hour.”

“The business and interests of the Romulan people do not usually confine themselves to anything resembling a normal schedule,” Vrax replied, the ghost of a smile teasing the edges of his mouth. “As such, we’ll forgo your execution for another time.” The comment elicited mild laughter from the senators seated around him, despite what he suspected were serious reasons for convening this session.

Any sense of informality was lost, however, with Sret’s next words.

“We have lost contact with the Bloodied Talon,Praetor,” the proconsul said, his voice appropriately subdued and grave. “Based on the last report received from Commander Sarith, we have reason to believe she may have been left with no recourse but to destroy her vessel in order to prevent detection.”

“Are you certain?” Vrax asked, his intellect already providing him with the answer he did not want to hear before Sret could even reply. He could not help but glance to where his vice-proconsul, Toqel, stood silent and unmoving near the rows of empty seats composing the audience’s viewing area. The uniform of her office was as immaculate as always and her dark hair cropped closer to her scalp in a style even more severe than that preferred by many veteran male military officers, but Vrax saw the resolute set to her narrow jaw and the dark circles seeming to add years to her age. Her expression was that of stone, belying the turmoil of emotions she must surely be keeping in check.

Again, Sret bowed his head. “As certain as we can be under the circumstances, my praetor. Commander Sarith was maintaining strict communications containment protocols in order to avoid detection, submitting her reports only at the directed intervals and frequencies.”

Stepping forward until she stood next to the proconsul, Toqel said, “According to the commander’s last transmission, her vessel was in danger of being detected by vessels traversing the region.”

Vrax already was familiar with the circumstances surrounding the Talon’s impaired condition, having read with no small amount of incredulity Commander Sarith’s report of the apparent destruction of an entire planet in what the Federation was calling the Palgrenax system, as well as the horrific experience of being caught in the midst of the resulting shock wave and debris storm. Even more unsettling was the commander’s assertion that it appeared to have been caused by a weapon of indescribable force, at least if the sensor data she had sent along to corroborate her report was any indication, and the fact that the possessors of such a weapon remained a mystery.

Who or what has the Federation angered in the Taurus Reach?

Toqel had paused in her report, and Vrax watched as the woman’s otherwise impeccable bearing was marred—if only for an instant—while she cleared her throat. He nodded to her, appreciating the vice-proconsul’s efforts to maintain her composure. He could only imagine how difficult it must be for her now, having to carry out this most unpleasant of duties, all while mourning the death of her only child.

“I grieve for your loss, Toqel,” he said, saddened even further by the fact that Commander Sarith’s final heroic act would be all but ignored by the pages of history. For the sake of security, all knowledge of the Bloodied Talon’s doomed last mission would have to be buried and forgotten, lest it be discovered by spies—either Federation or working for another government—and trigger a hunt for the dozens of other ships like the Talonwhich were at this moment conducting invaluable covert surveillance on the empire’s myriad potential enemies.

The vice-proconsul, sworn to lifelong duty and loyalty, knew this, of course. “She and her crew served the Praetor. That alone makes their sacrifice a noble one.”

To Vrax’s left and seated at one of the desks reserved for the senators, D’tran leaned forward in his chair, gathering his dark robes about him as he asked, “Did Commander Sarith destroy her ship as a precaution, or did she engage an enemy?” His voice, low and raspy, was a sign of his own advanced age; he was older than even Vrax himself.

Sret shook his head. “We are not certain, Senator, but we believe the Talonmay have been trying to avoid detection by a Klingon battle cruiser.”

Troubled murmurs echoed through the Senate Chamber at the mention of the empire’s longtime enemy. Though there had been no direct hostilities with the Klingons in many years, Vrax had known at the time of the Bloodied Talon’s departure for the distant Taurus Reach that the possibility existed for the vessel to encounter battleships in service to the Romulan people’s storied foe. Indeed, the report he had read of the ship’s earlier close call with a Klingon warship was still fresh in his memory.

By Vrax’s recollection, it had been decades since the last known encounter with the Klingon Empire. There had been a brief conflict in the years following the protracted war against Earth and her allies, as Romulus attempted to expand away from the region of space claimed by the then-fledgling United Federation of Planets. The Klingons, always on the hunt for new worlds to conquer owing to their ceaseless need for resources that were unavailable within their own territorial borders, had attempted to establish footholds within Romulan space, perhaps thinking Romulan forces depleted in the aftermath of the protracted conflict with the humans.

And our forces, weak though they may have been, certainly showed our enemies the errors of such thinking.

“It seems,” Vrax said after a moment, “that we are not the only ones with thoughts of expansion. In addition to the humans, our old adversaries from the Klingon Empire seem to have been gripped by a similar desire.” He knew also that hostilities would almost certainly be an inevitable consequence of this action, particularly in instances of newly claimed territory being disputed.

“All things being equal, Praetor, I would agree,” replied D’tran, the chamber’s subdued illumination reflecting off his thinning silver hair. “From what we know of the Federation, they would seek peaceful coexistence rather than enter into a dispute over territory. Why, then, would they seek to expand their borders into a region of space that is flanked by two potentially fierce enemies? Surely they know the risks they run by angering the Klingons, and the Tholians are little more than xenophobic reactionaries. The humans and their allies would seem to be asking for war.”

Senator Anitra, a woman far younger than most of her companions on the dais but as comfortable with her position as those who had served far longer, rose from her seat and stepped onto the main floor. “According to our intelligence reports, the Federation seems preoccupied with their usual glut of pursuits and would appear all but oblivious to the political maelstrom they’ve helped to engineer. They have established settlements on dozens of worlds. A handful of those are large, permanent colonies. A network of trade vectors has already been enacted, to say nothing of regular patrol routes for several Starfleet ships assigned to the sector.”

When Anitra paused and held up her hand, her dark, calculating eyes locking with his own, Vrax almost surrendered to the urge to smile. What the young senator lacked in age, she more than compensated for with her passion and flair for the dramatic.

Here it comes.

“However,” Anitra continued, “as my esteemed colleague has already pointed out, much of this could have been accomplished elsewhere in the quadrant, almost anywhere, in fact, without the risk of angering interstellar neighbors. Indeed, the space station constructed in the region would seem to serve no other purpose except to arouse suspicion and apprehension, if not outright fear of protracted military action.”

Stroking his chin, Vrax conceded that the young senator had a valid point. The presence of the starbase, far outside Federation borders, was an unprecedented act. While it could be argued that its deployment was so that it could better oversee military and civilian shipping operations supporting the growing network of colonies in the Taurus Reach, to the Praetor it seemed like too large of a tool for the job.

“Perhaps their mind-set has changed,” he said, “and the Federation no longer fears conflict, even if it stands between them and whatever goals they pursue? They might even welcome such confrontation. After all, a few of us have seen the humans acclimate to the needs of a given situation with surprising alacrity.”

As he spoke the words, he glanced to his longtime friend D’tran, who nodded in agreement. Even more so than Vrax himself, the aged senator possessed a long and unique familiarity with the humans. Over a century ago, while still a subcommander in the space fleet, D’tran had served aboard one of the vessels that had made the first recorded contact with a ship from Earth. Very little information was gathered during that initial meeting, practically nothing, in fact, and despite several efforts in the years that followed—some of which Vrax oversaw personally—much about the humans had remained a mystery even after Romulus found itself at war with the humans and learned firsthand of the tenacity and adaptability that belied any perceived physiological, mental, or cultural inferiorities they might possess.

In the years that had passed since that bitter, costly conflict—which Vrax had also witnessed firsthand and which had caused far more devastating and lasting damage to the empire than was generally acknowledged—precious little new information had been collected regarding the humans’ expansion into the galaxy.

Much of that drought was caused by the shortsightedness of the Praetor in office at that time, who had chosen a path of isolation for the Romulan people, ostensibly for the purpose of rebuilding and reprioritizing their outlook toward internal affairs, rather than pursuing a rigorous program of reaffirming the role of the Romulan Empire as the dominant force in the galaxy. By opting to focus time and energy inward, the Praetor in effect had conceded much of the territory beyond the empire’s current borders to the upstart Federation and, to a lesser extent, the Klingons.

Which is why he eventually was “retired” from office,Vrax reminded himself. Should you fail to chart the best possible course for the empire, you surely will suffer a similar fate.

Knowing this, in the decades that had passed since Vrax had stepped into the role of Praetor he had overseen an unprecedented series of intelligence-gathering activities. Deep-cover operatives and long-range sensor probes had provided some measure of clarity into the activities of their onetime enemy, which had grown—far beyond the fledgling interstellar coalition it had once spearheaded—into the United Federation of Planets. Much had been learned about the political and communal inroads the humans had forged with civilizations as they moved ever farther into the galaxy, as well as the trials they faced when confronted with new adversaries. Working from the information that had been obtained, it was feared by many political and military experts within the Romulan government that the Federation was on the verge of an unprecedented expansion with the potential to threaten the empire’s interests in this quadrant.

The Taurus Reach would at first seem to be but the latest manifestation of that fear, but that theory quickly collapsed when confronted with Sarith’s invaluable report of what she and her crew had experienced in the Palgrenax system.

As if reading his thoughts, Senator Anitra clasped her hands before her and bowed her head in his direction. “Based on what we already know of the humans, Praetor, particularly their penchant for adaptability and even their willingness to engage in deception to protect their interests, isn’t it logical to assume there is some other motive in play here? Should we not act now, rather than repeat the mistakes of our past leaders?”

Though he was certain she meant no disrespect, it was easy for Vrax to understand the collective murmurings of the other senators in the wake of Anitra’s words. Many of the comments being uttered around him were low enough in volume that he was unable to discern their content, but he comprehended their meaning just the same. It was a rare occurrence for a member of the Senate even to present the appearance of calling into question the decision of the Praetor—any Praetor—in a public forum. For someone as relatively new to the chamber as Anitra, who in all likelihood was younger than D’tran’s favored senatorial robe, the action bordered on blasphemous.

Not that Vrax concerned himself with such things. He much preferred his senators to be open and honest with him no matter the issue. Should they bring a bit of fire to the floor when they debated their points, so much the better.

Holding up a withered hand, he stifled the muffled yet still animated conversations taking place to his flanks, and regarded Anitra with a mentoring smile. “You have a suggestion, Senator?”

Appreciative and perhaps emboldened by her Praetor’s indulgence, Anitra stepped closer to the dais. “The Federation’s focus is elsewhere, Praetor. For whatever reason, the Taurus Reach has captured their attention, which brings with it growing tensions between them and the Klingons. It seems logical that, should things continue along that course, both sides will be forced to commit increased resources to cope with that ever-worsening situation.”

Turning so that she did not obstruct Vrax’s view of the chamber’s main floor, she indicated the map of the empire emblazoned upon the interlocked tiles. “Perhaps this is the opportunity for which we have waited. The humans and their allies may be vulnerable where their territory borders ours. We know that many worlds in what is now Federation space are rich with resources vital to the continued survival of the empire, and were lost to us when we stipulated to the treaty that ended the Great War. We could well be in a position to retrieve that which rightfully belongs to us.”

When the other senators began muttering this time, Vrax noted the almost unanimous connotation of approval now flavoring the dialogue.

He had to admit that Anitra’s proposition was as intriguing as it was bold. If the Federation’s interests were concentrated elsewhere, this indeed might be the time to consider aggressive strategies, to probe the Federation’s borders and assess their strengths and weaknesses with the aim of reclaiming valuable territory ceded to the humans in the aftermath of the war.

As appealing as that notion was to him, Vrax was well aware that Anitra’s proposal was far more complex than had been implied by the discussion to this point.

“While the Federation might be distracted by happenings elsewhere,” he said, “that is not to say they are inattentive, or defenseless.” He pointed to the floor map. “The observation outposts which guard their border are formidable obstacles. We cannot be sure the cloaking devices our ships carry will offer protection from their sensors.” Given the reports received from the ill-fated Bloodied Talon,there already was some concern over the technology’s perceived vulnerabilities.

“The outposts themselves are literal fortresses,” offered Vice-Proconsul Toqel, stepping forward with hands clasped behind her back, “embedded within asteroids and designed to withstand even the most intense assaults.”

Standing next to her, Proconsul Sret shook his head. “We have no facts to corroborate what might be nothing more than Federation propaganda,” he said. “The truth is that we do not know the outposts’ defensive capabilities. They have been allowed to drift unmolested on the Federation’s side of the Neutral Zone for more than a century. For all we know, they could be predators which in fact possess no teeth.”

“Or they’re simply hiding their teeth while awaiting an easy kill,” Vrax countered, his tone one of caution. “Regardless, we will not know one way or another until we take some much-needed first steps into the unknown.”

“Wise observations, Praetor,” Toqel said. “However, what of the Taurus Reach? There can be no doubt that it presents an alarming concern.”

Vrax could not disagree with that reasoning. Had the Federation found some new civilization, technology, or other resource that might give them an unprecedented tactical advantage? Maybe they had only found a clue to something unimaginable in its scope or power, unmatched by anything which currently existed, and with the potential to position whoever found it first as the undisputed rulers of the known galaxy.

For that to be anyone but the Romulan Star Empire was unconscionable. Regardless of the cost, no matter if it plunged the entire galaxy into war, Vrax knew he could not allow such change to come to fruition. The Romulan people would never subjugate themselves to anyone so long as life flowed through his aged, feeble body.

Of course, judging from the reports from the Bloodied Talon,the Federation might well have incensed a new enemy, one possessing enough power to stake its own claim, rendering all other considerations irrelevant.

Vrax knew that answers lay along only one path.

The path leading back to the Taurus Reach—and whatever secrets it possessed.

The saga of

STAR TREK VANGUARD

will continue

Acknowledgments

Sincere thanks are in order for editor Marco Palmieri, for inviting us to play in this new section of the Star Treksandbox and trusting us to meet the standard of excellence he has established for all of the other writers with whom he has worked. As longtime diehard fans of the original Star Trekseries, the chance for us to expand upon that universe and to stretch it in new ways was simply a temptation too enticing to ignore.

Thanks also to David Mack, who took head-on the challenge of writing the first Vanguardnovel as well as working with Marco to develop the series’ larger story arc and what we believe to be one of the most interesting cast of characters to come down the Star Trekpike in a long time. He also managed to set the bar quite high for intrigue, excitement, and just plain fun with the series’ inaugural volume, Harbinger. Here’s hoping we did you proud, Mack-Daddy.

And a high-five to the most honorable Dr. Lawrence M. Schoen, he of the Klingon Language Institute, for his invaluable assistance in helping us devise a few new Klingon words. No, we’re not going to tell you what they mean. Where’s the fun in that?