Open Secrets

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Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore

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“Gangway! Make a hole!”

Atish Khatami shouted the commands over the wail of the red alert sirens as she sprinted down the curving corridor of Deck 5 on her way to the nearest turbolift. Ahead of her, crew members already moving to their assigned battle stations cleared the center of the hallway, some even flattening themselves against bulkheads in order to provide the captain free passage. Rounding a turn, she nearly bowled over a hapless lieutenant who was trying to vacate the turbolift. The younger officer managed to dodge her and thereby avoided being body-slammed into the wall as Khatami plunged into the lift.

“Bridge!” she called out as she gripped one of the car’s quartet of control handles and the doors closed behind her. An instant later she felt the slight push from below as the lift began its ascent. Reaching for the comm panel positioned just inside the door, Khatami activated the unit. “Khatami to bridge. Report.”

“ Stano here,” replied the Endeavour’s first officer. “ Sensors have picked up three Klingon warships at extreme range, but they’ve altered course to intercept us, and they’re coming fast. I’ve raised shields and readied weapons crews.”

STAR TREK ^® VANGUARD

OPEN SECRETS

DAYTON WARD

Story by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dimore

Based upon Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Cover art by Doug Drexler

ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-2340-9

ISBN-10: 1-4391-2340-3

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IN TRIBUTE

Joan Winston

(June 19, 1931–September 11, 2008)

You knew it all along, Joanie, butStar Trek does indeed live.

HISTORIAN’S NOTE

The main events take place in 2266 (ACE). This is just after the Starship Enterprise’s encounter with the First Federation ship the Fesarius(“Corbormite Maneuver”) and approximately three weeks after the disappearance of the Jinoteur system and the publication of a story that reveals many of the carefully guarded secrets of the Taurus Reach ( Star Trek: Vanguard—Reap the Whirlwind).

Operation Vanguard:

Current Status

THE TAURUS REACH: A largely unexplored region of space, situated between the borders of Federation, Klingon, and Tholian territory. It is here that Starfleet has discovered the remnants of an ancient, incredibly powerful civilization, the Shedai, with links to one of the Federation’s most mysterious adversaries, the Tholians. Also discovered is the Taurus Meta-Genome, a complex strand of deliberately engineered DNA that seems to hold the key to genetic manipulation and perhaps even artificial world-building on a scale never before imagined. The scientific and martial potential of unlocking this knowledge quickly becomes obvious, and Starfleet launches a mammoth exploration and research effort into the region. As the investigation continues, Starfleet scientists uncover an enigmatic energy waveform in the Jinoteur system, which is believed to be the homeworld of the long-dead race. This waveform, working in concert with the meta-genome, might well be the key to unlocking all of the Taurus Reach’s many secrets.

STARBASE 47: A massive, self-sufficient Federation deep-space station constructed in the Taurus Reach. The station is the focal point of activity in the region, a command base for Starfleet vessels assigned to the sector as well as a way station for Federation colonists heading into the region. Operating beneath this cover, the station’s larger, classified mission is to spearhead the investigation of the Taurus Reach. As tension grips the Federation’s political relations with the Klingon Empire and the Tholian Assembly, Starbase 47 stands poised knowing it could become a flashpoint in an interstellar conflict.

COMMODORE DIEGO REYES: Commanding officer of Starbase 47, as well as the person overseeing the mission to discover the secrets of the Taurus Reach. A man of strong conviction and principles as well as an unwavering loyalty to Starfleet and the Federation, Reyes has found himself gripped in a crisis of conscience. The secret nature of his mission and the potential it carries to destabilize the relations between the Federation and its neighbors has forced him to take questionable and even illegal actions. Forced by circumstance and political expediency to cover up the truth behind the destruction of the U.S.S. Bombay,a starship assigned to Starbase 47, Reyes is later forced to lay waste to the entire surface of Gamma Tauri IV in an effort to contain a Shedai threat. The action, which results in the deaths of thousands of Federation and Klingon colonists, eventually leads Reyes to allow the publication of an exposé by journalist Tim Pennington that reveals much of the truth behind the Shedai and the menace they represent. As a consequence of this decision, Reyes is arrested and charged with violation of Starfleet regulations, and now awaits court-martial.

LIEUTENANT COMMANDER T’PRYNN: Starbase 47’s intelligence officer. T’Prynn is charged with ensuring the secrecy of Operation Vanguard, a task she undertakes with unwavering and even ruthless efficiency. Unknown to anyone, T’Prynn has suffered severe mental trauma for decades, the result of a violent mind meld she endured during an abortive marriage ceremony on her home planet of Vulcan. Since that time, she has carried within her mind the consciousness of Sten, her fiancé whom she killed during ritual combat. The pressures of this continuous mental struggle, coupled with the trauma of losing her lover, Anna Sandesjo, finally become too much for T’Prynn, and she falls into a deep coma. As station doctors attempt to ascertain her condition and search for a cure, the war she has waged within her own mind continues unabated.

LIEUTENANT MING XIONG: The young, idealistic scientist assigned to Starbase 47 and given the enviable task of learning the truth behind the Taurus Meta-Genome and the Shedai civilization that created it. His passion for learning and exploration are at first challenged and eventually dampened as he comes to understand the true power of the Shedai and the potential it represents not only to the Federation but also its enemies. Still, he retains hope that unearthing and even sharing the mysteries of the Taurus Reach might help to forge new ties between the interstellar powers.

TIM PENNINGTON: An investigative journalist working for the Federation News Service and assigned to cover the Federation’s activities in the Taurus Reach. Pennington’s investigations have already brought him afoul of Lieutenant Commander T’Prynn, who sacrifices the reporter’s professional reputation as a means of covering up what really happened to the U.S.S. Bombay. Ostracized by his employers as well as the majority of the station’s crew, Pennington soon finds himself befriended by the unlikeliest of allies, the shady trader/merchant Cervantes Quinn. Pennington and Quinn find themselves partaking of several unusual adventures before fate brings the reporter face-to-face with the truth of the Taurus Reach and the supreme race of beings that once called it home. Armed with these startling revelations, the journalist unleashes an exposé that shatters the veils of secrecy surrounding Operation Vanguard and the very real threat the Federation now faces.

AMBASSADOR JETANIEN: A Rigelian Chel and the Federation’s diplomatic attaché assigned to Starbase 47. A wise and learned statesman with a firm belief in the Federation’s bedrock principles and ideals, Jetanien also is driven by an intense need to forge some form of enduring legacy to mark his life and career. Necessity requires the ambassador to foster several bold diplomatic overtures with the Klingons and the Tholians, but it’s ambition and ego that compel him to do everything possible to salvage such proceedings even as the political climate between the Federation and the Klingon Empire continues to deteriorate.

THE SHEDAI: The enigmatic architects of an ancient hegemony that once spanned the Taurus Reach. At first believed to be extinct, the Shedai in fact were once all but destroyed as a result of civil war. Some survivors of the once-mighty civilization have lain dormant in stasis for thousands of years, waiting for an opportunity to rule again. A few of those survivors have awakened in response to the arrival in their space of Federation and other curiosity seekers, viewing the interlopers as a threat to be annihilated. A lone agent, the Wanderer, has begun systematically pursuing and destroying outposts on worlds once ruled by the Shedai. However, another agent, the Apostate, has split from his peers, disagreeing on this course of violent action. Though the Apostate succeeds in crippling the remaining Shedai, it remains to be seen if they can rally their forces for one more attempt to return to power. Meanwhile, the Wanderer, the one Shedai capable of interstellar travel without assistance from the astonishing technology her people once commanded, continues her mission to rid the Taurus Reach of all who would seek to exploit the power of the Shedai.

Contents

The Taurus Reach 2267

PROLOGUE

One Year Earlier

17 INTERLUDE

28 INTERLUDE

49 INTERLUDE

60 INTERLUDE

The Taurus Reach 2267

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The Taurus Reach 2267

PROLOGUE

“Red alert. The station is now on red alert. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill.”

The lifeless feminine voice of the computer droned over the sound of alarm Klaxons blaring through Starbase 47’s command center. Jon Cooper emerged from his office, a quick glance all he needed to size up the scene around him. Each of the duty stations was manned, and a check of the center’s primary situational displays told him that all defensive systems had been activated and currently were functioning at full capacity. It was only the second time since the station had been declared operational that its deflector shields and weapons had been brought online for anything other than a readiness exercise.

As Cooper crossed the deck, the alarm sirens faded, though the harsh crimson alert indicators continued to flash. After ascending the steps two at a time to the supervisor’s deck, he noted that the station’s commanding officer had yet to arrive. “Status report.”

“Sensors are picking up six Klingon D-7battle cruisers approaching the station, Commander,” replied Lieutenant Haniff Jackson from where he sat at “the hub,” the platform’s conference table into which had been integrated eight workstations, each tied into the station’s primary systems and from which almost any aspect of Starbase 47’s operation could be monitored and controlled. The computer interface seemed tiny and frail beneath the security chief’s massive dark-skinned hands. He was hunched over his console, his red uniform tunic stretched across his broad torso to the point that Cooper was sure it simply would rip to shreds if Jackson flexed his muscles. “They’re coming in weapons hot and deflector screens powered up. Our ships have formed a perimeter around the station and are holding position.”

Looking to where Lieutenant Judy Dunbar sat at another of the hub’s stations, Cooper asked, “I don’t suppose they’re responding to hails?”

The communications officer shook her head, looking up at Cooper and brushing a lock of light brown hair from her eyes. “No, Commander.”

It had only been a matter of time, Cooper knew. In recent months, the political situation with the Klingons had been steadily deteriorating, with many Federation diplomats and Starfleet military experts concluding that the mounting tensions with their longtime adversaries—as well as the isolated yet increasingly frequent confrontations—would escalate to open hostilities. Cooper was not surprised when the Code One alert from Starfleet Command reached the station, notifying all ships and installations that the Federation, for all intents and purposes, now was at war with the Klingon Empire.

Even now, in the few days that had elapsed since the alert was dispatched, skirmishes between Starfleet and Klingon vessels were on the rise all along the border. In one of the more distressing reports Cooper had read, two Klingon cruisers had attacked and destroyed a Starfleet hospital ship in the Kalinora Sector, claiming that it actually had been engaged in espionage. Assaults on other ships, as well as forward observation outposts, unmanned subspace communications relay stations, and even one starbase, had been reported. Starbase 47, given its location away from well-traveled Starfleet patrol routes and its proximity to Klingon space, also offered a tempting target for enemy attack, and that did not even take into account the empire’s increased interest in the Taurus Reach.

“Let’s see them,” Cooper said, looking up from the hub to the array of large rectangular viewing screens dominating the upper portions of each wall of the command center. In response to his order, Jackson keyed a string of commands to his workstation, and the images on several of the screens shifted to show varying views of the different approaching enemy vessels.

“They’re breaking formation and moving to equidistant positions around the station,” Jackson reported. “Current distance is seven thousand kilometers.” To emphasize his point, the security chief pointed to one of the overhead viewers, which currently displayed a tactical schematic of the station and the surrounding region. The image depicted a large blue circle representing the station at its center and four smaller circles corresponding to the Starfleet vessels that would form the first line of defense should the situation escalate to that point. Six fiery red arrows maneuvered around it in formation—the Klingon vessels.

Feeling a knot tightening in his gut as he watched the deployment continue to unfold, Cooper saw his mounting anxiety mirrored in the faces of the command-center staff. The pulsing indicators on the screen might put forth the notion that the odds were almost even despite the greater number of Klingon ships, but Vanguard’s executive officer knew better. The U.S.S. Endeavourwas the largest and most powerful of the four Starfleet vessels at the station’s disposal, but from there, things began to slide very much toward the Klingons’ favor. The Endeavour,along with the Locknar-class frigate Akhieland the Saladin-class destroyers Hannibaland Theseus,was all the ship-based firepower that could be mustered to the station’s aid when it became clear that an enemy attack was imminent. The Miranda-class Buenos Aireswas away from the station on assignment, and the only other available Starfleet ship, the Sagittarius,had been ordered to remain within the relatively safe confines of its hangar bay. The tiny scout-class vessel would be no match for a Klingon battle cruiser and did not possess armaments necessary to play even a supporting role in what might well end up being a brutal battle.

“Receiving a hail from the Endeavour,” reported Dunbar, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the communication being filtered through the Feinberg wireless receiver in her left ear. “Captain Khatami’s requesting instructions.”

Cooper drew a deep breath in an effort to quell his growing unease. It had been a long time since he had seen combat, and he never had experienced a situation that required him to protect a stationary target. Though Starbase 47’s own defenses and those of its accompanying starships should be enough to hold off the worst of any imminent Klingon attack, there were no reinforcements if things went sour.

Always the optimist, aren’t you?

“Try to raise the Klingons one last time,” Cooper said, nodding to Dunbar as he gave the order. Then the sound of turbolift doors opening behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see the station’s commander, Rear Admiral Heihachiro Nogura, stepping into the command center.

Thin and lean, the Asian man paused on the center’s main floor, standing calm and composed amid the furious activity taking place around him. Cooper knew that the admiral had seen and managed his share of crises, and that experience appeared to be guiding him now as his eyes took in all of the information presented on the various viewscreens around the room. Watching Nogura now, Cooper even felt his own tension ease just a bit.

The respite was short-lived.

“We’re being targeted,” Jackson called out, his voice rising in volume. “All six cruisers are locking weapons on the station. Our ships are maneuvering to intercept.”

This was it. War had come to Vanguard.

“Notify Khatami and the others that they’re clear to engage the moment any of the enemy ships opens fire,” ordered Nogura as he climbed the steps to the supervisor’s deck and moved to stand opposite Cooper on the other side of the hub. Cooper knew that the admiral—who seemed to possess almost Vulcan-like hearing—likely had picked up every word spoken by anyone in the command center since exiting the turbolift. “Jackson, have engineering transfer power from all nonessential systems to the shields.” Nogura spoke the words with a quiet yet palpable authority, with no excitement or even a hint of worry or uncertainty.

Settling into one of the hub’s empty seats, Cooper used its workstation to call up the latest status from each of the station’s primary systems. He felt his heart rate increasing, sensed his breaths coming quick and shallow in anticipation of what the next minutes might bring. Feeling a rush of warmth, Cooper reached up to tug at the neck of his uniform tunic. To him, it seemed as though the temperature in the command center was increasing by the second.

Then intense heat washed over his fingers, and he jerked his hands away from his workstation, flinching at the sudden, unexpected pain. At the same time, he realized that his chair also was growing hotter, and he pulled himself to his feet. All around the command center, personnel were rising or stepping back from their stations, wearing mirrored expressions of shock as they looked to the upper deck—and Admiral Nogura—for guidance.

“What’s happening?” Nogura asked. He, too, had stepped away from the hub, and Cooper now saw the air shimmering over the table as heat radiated upward.

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know, Admiral.” He leaned closer to his workstation, studying the status monitors. “All weapons systems on the station are offline. The same with our ships.” Frowning, he added, “And the Klingons, sir.” Looking up, his brow was knit in confusion. “What the hell’s going on?”

Any response that Nogura or anyone else might have made was cut off by a faint, high-pitched whine beginning to reverberate through the command center. Cooper looked around for the sound’s possible source but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The whine became a howl, its intensity increasing with each passing second, so much that everyone in the room pressed his or her hands to ears in futile efforts to stifle its piercing assault.

“Where’s it coming from?” Dunbar shouted over the din, her eyes squeezed shut.

At the point where Cooper was sure his eardrums would burst, the sound faded. In its place, an orb of light appeared above the center of the conference table, growing in size and brightness. Cooper watched as it stretched and elongated until it took on the outline of a humanoid life-form. Within seconds, it coalesced and solidified, with facial features, hair, and clothing emerging from the light. When the glare faded, all that remained was what appeared to be a human male, perhaps seventy Earth years of age, with deep creases in his forehead and around his eyes and mouth. His dark hair and beard were streaked with gray, and he wore a simple short-sleeved brown tunic with ornamental white stitching around its neck and down to the center of his chest. As he gazed out at the command-center staff, the man’s eyes seemed heavy with sadness.

More like resignation,Cooper thought.

“It looks like a projection,” Jackson said.

Stepping forward to better study the apparition, Nogura asked, “But where’s it being transmitted from?”

It was the apparition that replied.

“My name is Ayelborne, of the planet Organia,”the figure said, clasping his hands before him. “At this moment, the military forces of your Federation and the Klingon Empire have converged in orbit above my planet, as well as elsewhere in space, ready, if not eager, to wage war. Were you to confine your hostilities to yourselves, we would be content to allow you to destroy each other. However, your conflict threatens millions of innocent lives, and that is something we cannot allow. At present, all of your instruments of violence now radiate a temperature of three hundred fifty degrees. They are inoperative. These same conditions exist within both of your star fleets. There will be no battle.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jackson asked, exchanging with Cooper an expression of disbelief.

Ayelborne continued, “As I stand before you now, I also stand upon the home planet of your Federation and the home planet of the Klingon Empire. Unless both sides agree to an immediate cessation of hostilities, all of your armed forces, wherever they may be, will be immediately immobilized.”

Cooper felt his jaw slacken as he began to comprehend the enormity of what he was hearing. Who was this Ayelborne? What planet was Organia, and what kind of race that called it home could impose its will with such force and confidence? Were these mysterious beings friend, foe, or self-appointed overseer?

“You must understand,”Ayelborne said, “that we consider interference in the affairs of others to be most distasteful, but you have left us no choice. To that end, you will soon be contacted again, at which time the nature of our mandate will be made clear, and you will be offered paths to assist you in finding peace with each other.”For the first time since the projection had appeared, Ayelborne’s features hardened from an almost paternal expression of disapproval to one of cold determination. “The choice of which path to follow is entirely yours to make, and the consequences for your decision will rest solely with you.”

He said nothing more, and a moment later, his human appearance dissolved into the orb of blinding light, and those in the command center covered their ears again as the high-pitched whine returned. The light pulsed as it brightened, and Cooper shielded his eyes from the glare until it and the ear-piercing sound faded as though they never had existed. No one on the supervisor’s deck spoke, apparently content to stand silent and absorb the astonishing revelation they had just witnessed.

Finally, Nogura broke the quiet. “Well,” the admiral said, turning to Cooper as he clasped his hands behind his back, exuding the reserved demeanor that seemed to drape over him like a comforting blanket, “that’s certainly going to make things a bit more interesting.”

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