Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

“What do you want to do?” Zett asked after a moment.

Ganz’s immediate answer was to ball his right hand into a fist and slam it down on the desk. He felt its metal surface give just a bit beneath the force of the blow, the echo from the strike reverberating off the walls of the office. Staring at the door through which Nogura had left, he contemplated all of the ways he could have the admiral killed before he left the Omari-Ekonand returned to the space station. Instead, he turned his gaze to Zett and beheld the Nalori’s unreadable expression and his own reflection in the assassin’s eyes.

“Start packing.”

24

“So, you’re telling me…what, exactly?”

Leaning back in his chair, with his arms folded and his feet resting on the drab metal table, Reyes regarded Commander Nathan Spires as the attorney, visibly disturbed by the news he had just received and imparted, paced the length of the interview room. His normally well-groomed hair was disheveled, a consequence of running his hands through it.

“Captain Sereb is a force of nature,Commodore,” Spires said, continuing to pace. “That he’s here is a clear sign that Starfleet is leaving nothing to chance and pulling no punches with respect to your court-martial.” Pausing, he held up a hand. “They’re not throwing you to the lions or anything like that, but they want to be sure that every last detail of this trial is aboveboard.” He shrugged. “That won’t be especially hard in this case, given Sereb’s credentials. Call him gruff, call him rude, call him insufferably arrogant in the finest Tellarite tradition, but unethical he most certainly is not.” Shaking his head, he moved to the table, took a glass of water from where it sat next to his briefcase, and drained its contents.

Reyes, of course, had been expecting Starfleet to replace Desai as the prosecuting attorney. Even though very few people in her chain of command would be so foolish as to question her integrity and commitment to carrying out her duty, no matter how unpleasant, Reyes was confident that someone at Starfleet Headquarters would demonstrate sufficient humanity—and common sense—to relieve Desai of the responsibility of doing her best to send him to prison for the rest of his life.

Small favors, I suppose.

Reyes brought his feet off the table and leaned forward in his chair. “What’re you trying to tell me, Commander? I should just give up now? Throw myself on the mercy of the court and so on?”

“Of course not, sir,” Spires countered, waving away the suggestion. “I’m just trying to make it clear that our battle has gotten that much harder. After all, unlike Captain Desai, Sereb has no personal connection to you, no reason to offer anything in the way of—”

“Belay that, Commander,” Reyes snapped, cutting off Spires with such volume and force that the commodore could almost see the blood drain from the other man’s face. Rising from his seat, he pointed a finger at Spires’s chest, and when he spoke again, the words came out dripping with undisguised menace. “That’s the first and last time I ever want to hear you so much as think that Captain Desai isn’t and hasn’t been conducting herself in accordance with Starfleet regulations, particularly with respect to this court-martial. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”

Swallowing the obvious lump in his throat, Spires nodded once. “You do, sir. My comments were out of line, and I apologize.”

Reyes frowned as he watched the commander resume his pacing. Was this other lawyer, Sereb, really so formidable? Even if that were the case, Spires, from Reyes’s admittedly layperson’s viewpoint, seemed a rather effective attorney in his own right. During the past weeks, whether spent together in conference or with Spires working alone to interview relevant witnesses and review computer files, the commander had demonstrated a seemingly unwavering focus, determined to do his level best to mount an effective defense for Reyes.

“You sound scared, Commander,” he said, returning to his seat. “You said this Sereb was a stickler for the rules. That means I’ll still get my chance to answer questions, to say my piece, right?”

Spires cleared his throat. “You’ll get your chance, sir, and then he’ll hang you with your very words.” As though anticipating Reyes’s reaction, he held up both hands in a gesture of supplication. “Commodore, with no disrespect intended toward Captain Desai, this needs to be said. Captain Sereb is one of the most effective prosecutors in JAG. He doesn’t lose. He’s never lost,and the only thing he seems to like more than winning is how thoroughly he can dismantle an opponent whilehe’s winning. That includes the defendant andthe defense attorney.”

Releasing a tired grunt, Reyes shook his head. “Sounds like someone Jetanien might like.” For a moment, he was amused by the image of the bombastic Rigelian Chel facing off against a Tellarite in a no-holds-barred verbal joust.

Maybe we could sell tickets.

After a moment, Reyes shrugged. “Okay, then, so we have to work that much harder to get ready for this guy. I need to check my calendar, but I’m pretty sure I can work in any extra time you think we’ll need.” The way he saw it, he had nothing to lose, no matter whom Starfleet put up to prosecute him. If Spires was right about his new opponent, Sereb would not only welcome any attempt to present a forthright defense based on facts, but he would also relish any victory he attained in the face of such opposition. Regardless, Reyes at least would get his day in court, his opportunity to put a face to the secrets and mystery surrounding Starfleet’s presence in the Taurus Reach.

“There’s something else to consider,” Spires said, abandoning his fruitless pacing and returning to the table. He retook his seat, his eyes boring into Reyes. “It goes without saying that Sereb will be performing due diligence as he prepares for the trial. That means he’ll have access to every record and order issued by anyone briefed into Operation Vanguard. At this point, we have no way to know whether his attack will concentrate solely on you or if he might widen his focus to include any superior officers responsible for the orders you carried out—or disobeyed, as the case may be.”

Reyes scowled as realization dawned. He had no desire to call out superior officers as a means of strengthening his own defense and had resolved not to volunteer such information. Would Sereb employ a scorched-earth policy during the court-martial in his quest to convict the commodore, disregarding anyone and anything possessing even a tangential connection to the Vanguard project?

Both men’s attention was drawn by the sound of the interview room’s doors sliding open to admit Captain Rana Desai. Starbase 47’s senior JAG officer strode into the room, her arms locked at her sides and her expression one of utter determination.

“Rana,” Reyes said, rising from his chair. It had been more than a month since he had last seen her, in the days immediately following his arrest, and she looked more radiant to him than ever. Her gaze shifted to him only for a moment, but in that instant, he saw every bit of the love and anguish he knew she felt for him, coupled with prolonged fatigue buried beneath layers of duty and protocol. Then her attention returned to Spires, who also had gotten to his feet, his features a mask of indignation.

“Excuse me, Captain,” Spires said, rising from his seat. “I’m in the middle of a private meeting with my client.”

Instead of answering him, Desai turned back to Reyes. “I’ve come to offer my services as your defense counsel, Commodore.”

The blunt statement caught Reyes off guard. “Are you serious?”

“I beg your pardon?” Spires asked, and Reyes watched as the commander’s mouth literally fell open. “Am I being relieved?”

Shaking her head, Desai answered, “Not at all. However, the accused doeshave the right to decide who’ll be handling his defense at trial.” Looking once more to Reyes, she asked, “Commodore?”

Still unsure what to think or believe in the face of his lover marching into the room and apparently taking charge of the situation, Reyes did not offer an immediate reply. Instead, he closed his eyes and shook his head, as though doing so would erase what had to be a hallucination. When he opened his eyes and saw Desai still standing before him, he frowned in lingering disbelief.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Rana, the scuttlebutt even works its way down here sooner or later. You’ve been spending the past month setting up your case against me. I know you’re only doing your duty, but are you telling me you’re ready to shift gears just like that?”

Desai actually rolled her eyes. “You know I love you, Diego, but you can be such a moron sometimes. I wasn’t preparing a case against you. I’ve spent all of this time figuring out everything they might throw at you so that I can defendyou.”

Scowling, Reyes said, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Under normal circumstances,” Desai replied, “as the senior JAG officer on the station, I’d be tapped to act as prosecuting attorney during a court-martial, but there was no way Starfleet was going to let me go to trial against you. It was only a matter of time before I was replaced, but it’s not my fault they took their time relieving me.” She shrugged. “So, I used my staff to help fortify a prosecutor’s case against you, then spent my nights countering everything we thought up during the day.”

“And just what in the name of hell do you think I’vebeen doing these past weeks?” Spires asked, making no attempt to hide his umbrage. There was no mistaking the commander’s wounded pride, and Reyes decided he could not blame the man. No one liked to be thought of as dispensable or replaceable. In Spires’s case, though he and Reyes had gotten off to a rocky start, the young lawyer had expended great time and effort crafting a defense for the commodore, so it was only natural that he would feel resentful and defensive at the idea of being cast aside.

Returning her gaze to Spires, Desai replied, “No disrespect toward you, Commander, but I honestly believe that I’m the person best qualified to represent Commodore Reyes at trial. I possess a greater knowledge of the classified aspects of Operation Vanguard than you do, to say nothing of my familiarity with those members of the station’s crew who know of the project.”

His expression clouded with bitterness, Spires said, “I suppose your personal relationship with the commodore would be of some help as well.”

Desai countered, “Yes, Commander, that will also be useful.” To Reyes, she said, “But there’s something else. He doesn’t think you can win. Maybe you can’t, but I’mnot ready to admit that yet.” She indicated Spires with her thumb. “He already has.”

“I beg your pardon,” Spires said, his face reddening, and Reyes saw that it was taking every scrap of the man’s self-control to maintain his bearing. “Captain, with all due respect, how dare you—”

“You haveadmitted that you can’t win,” Desai said, cutting him off. “If not aloud, then at least to yourself. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you’ve decided that his conviction is a foregone conclusion. You’ve been thinking about pulling your punches in that courtroom in order to avoid angering anyone who might have a say in your future.” She leaned closer, her gaze boring into him. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

With Spires rendered speechless, at least for the moment, Desai turned to Reyes, her eyes burning with determination. “What do you say, Commodore?”

Despite her passion and verve, as far as Reyes was concerned, there still was one very important point to consider. “Rana, there’s no telling what could happen to you or your career. Let’s face it, I’m damaged goods. I’m poison. You’re probably better off staying as far away from me as possible.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that,” Desai replied, and Reyes saw the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Make no mistake. They’re going to crucify you. They’re going to draw and quarter you, serve you up on a platter, and leave your guts for the buzzards, but whatever happens, I want to be the one standing next to you.”

That was good enough for Reyes. Turning to Spires, he saw that the commander already knew what he was going to say.

“Nothing personal, Mr. Spires, but you’re fired.”

25

Jetanien had always prided himself on his ability to control a situation, be it the most informal gatherings or the most intense diplomatic negotiations. Successfully harnessing and channeling the energies and desires of others with whom one was engaged was a powerful asset to any politician, and the Chel had spent a significant portion of his professional life honing this and other vital skills. He was well aware that it was ego more than anything else that drove him in this manner, and with a few notable and still-painful exceptions, such talents had served him well throughout his career.

None of that, however, seemed enough to compel Admiral Heihachiro Nogura to set down his cup of green tea and get on with whatever reason he had called Jetanien and Commander Cooper to his office.

“Admiral,” he prompted for the second time.

As he had done after Jetanien’s first attempt, Nogura held up his free hand, not looking up from the data slate he studied while taking another sip of his tea.

With nothing else to do, Jetanien glanced at Cooper, offering a mild sigh before directing his attention to the data slate that gripped the admiral’s attention. The ambassador attempted to read the text visible on the face of the device, but Nogura had reduced the display’s brightness so that the data appeared as little more than a jumble. The data slate was one of several arrayed on Nogura’s desk—the desk that had once belonged to Diego Reyes. While he waited, the ambassador noted that Nogura had wasted little time removing those few personal items with which the commodore had decorated the office, apparently having opted not to replace them with any of his own. Was there some hidden meaning to the lack of individualization? Perhaps the admiral knew or at least believed his assignment to Starbase 47 to be temporary.

It would not be out of the question, Jetanien knew, given Nogura’s standing within the upper echelons of Starfleet Command. With the ever-tenuous relationship between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, Starfleet’s preparations for possible conflict continued at a rapid pace. Nogura was one of a handful of flag officers who almost certainly would be involved in planning any protracted offensive or defensive campaigns should war become a reality. Starfleet even had gone so far as to ensure that, for reasons of security, the admiral was separated from other such officers at all times. Jetanien was all but certain that Nogura’s presence here was part of that overall strategy, as much as someone of his experience and skill was needed to oversee Operation Vanguard.

The ambassador had no desire to remain standing in this office until that unfortunate event came to pass.

“Should I have my breakfast delivered here,” he asked after a moment, “or simply dispense with that and place an order for lunch?”

Cooper’s face went pale in response to the question, but Nogura seemed unperturbed by the verbal jab. His only reaction was to return his teacup to its saucer and clear his throat before leaning back in his chair. He said nothing at first, taking a moment to regard Cooper and Jetanien with bright, sharp eyes. Finally, a slim grin creased his weathered face.

“I have to say, Ambassador, you are as your reputation describes you. I’m sure that forthright demeanor of yours works for you most of the time.” He reached once more for his tea, taking a long sip before setting the cup down. “It might even have worked with Commodore Reyes, but it won’t do anything except annoy the hell out of me. Consider that free advice to apply toward our working relationship going forward. I trust I’m being clear on this point?”

Bristling at the rebuke, which he knew he had brought on himself, Jetanien nodded. “You are, Admiral. I apologize for my conduct. It will not be repeated.”

“Excellent,” Nogura said, picking up the data slate from which he had been reading. “Now, since this is the first time the three of us have been able to meet since my arrival, allow me to congratulate both of you. You’ve faced remarkable challenges these past weeks, particularly you, Commander Cooper, stepping into Commodore Reyes’s shoes and making it look easy.” Looking to Jetanien, he added, “Ambassador, your efforts not only with the Klingon and Tholian delegations but also with our resident Tholian guest also haven’t gone unnoticed. While it might go without saying that the success of this station and its mission is a direct result of your being here, I’m saying it anyway. Thank you both, and I can only hope such extraordinary work will continue.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cooper replied, offering a curt, formal nod.

Jetanien added, “My staff and I will pursue every diplomatic option available to us, and once those are exhausted, we will not stop until we find new avenues to explore.”

Nogura nodded in apparent satisfaction. “That’s good, because I’m afraid things are only going to be getting busier. As you already know, the Klingons are on the move throughout the Taurus Reach.”

“Indeed,” Jetanien said. “Despite the limited number of ships they’re able to spare, the empire seems determined to engage in wholesale land grabbing.”

Cooper added, “From a tactical perspective, it’s easy to see the lines being drawn. Klingon ship captains also seem hell-bent on testing us as they keep pushing through the region.”

“They want to see if we’re willing to challenge their claims on whichever planet they plant their flag,” Nogura replied. “With limited exceptions, they seem satisfied to stick to resource-rich worlds that are uninhabited.”

Jetanien chirped before saying, “That won’t always be the case. Sooner or later, they’ll begin subjugating populated planets and enslaving the indigenous inhabitants. The unfortunate reality of life under Klingon rule.”

“Both the Endeavourand the Sagittariushave been conducting patrol missions to planets claimed by the empire,” Cooper said. “According to Captain Nassir on the Sagittarius,they’ve already established a strip-mining operation on one planet in the Conana system.” He shrugged. “The whole planet isn’t much more than a giant dilithium crystal.”

“They’re not just causing problems here,” Nogura said, “but all along the border as well, and I’m afraid there’s more bad news.” He reached for another data slate on his desk. “It seems someone else has taken an active interest in the goings-on out here.” He held up the unit for Cooper and Jetanien to see. “This is a report I received just this morning from Starfleet Intelligence. It details an analysis of a collection of what looked to be spaceship wreckage recovered several weeks ago by the Lovelland her Corps of Engineers team. As you may recall, they were sent to the Palgrenax system to investigate the remains of the planet that we believe was destroyed by one of these Shedai global super-weapons I’ve been reading so much about.”

“Yes, sir,” Cooper responded. “We’d received briefings that the Klingons had claimed the system and subjugated the preindustrial civilization indigenous to the system’s only Class-M planet. The Lovellretrieved what it thought were remnants of a Klingon ship, but an on-site analysis followed by a more detailed inspection here on the station revealed that the hull plating we recovered didn’t match any known Klingon vessel configuration. In fact, it didn’t match anything in any of Starfleet’s recognition databases.”

“It does now,” Nogura countered, holding up the data slate in his hand for emphasis. “Last week, the U.S.S. Enterprisemade contact with and engaged a previously unknown type of vessel. That ship was also destroyed, and the Enterprisecollected pieces of the wreckage. Their science officer forwarded his own analysis of those samples to Starfleet Command, who found themselves with a mystery of their own, since the material from the ship they encountered matches that from the one apparently destroyed near Palgrenax. Both ships were Romulan.”

“Romulan?” Cooper said, his complexion growing pale. “Seriously? After all this time?”

Nogura nodded. “Looks that way. The report from the Enterpriseis alarming, to say the least.”

“To the best of my knowledge,” Jetanien said, “no contact with a Romulan ship has been recorded for more than a century, since the armistice after the war.”

Following that protracted conflict, and the signing of the tenuous peace treaty still enjoyed by both sides, Romulans had all but gone into total seclusion. Numerous theories abounded about the reason for the self-imposed isolation, most notable being shame at having been equaled or even bested by what the Romulans had perceived to be a vastly inferior foe. After his studies of the reclusive interstellar power, which admittedly were based largely on century-old intelligence briefings, battle reports and transcripts from the few diplomatic meetings that took place before the peace treaty’s enactment, Jetanien had come to another conclusion. He did not believe that embarrassment or wounded pride had anything to do with the Romulans’ choosing to absent themselves from the interstellar political stage. Rather, he was all but certain that they simply had been biding their time, refining the weapons and technology that had failed to serve them during the war and waiting for such time as their onetime adversary offered a weakness or other opening that might be exploited.

Had the Federation, after all these years, finally offered such an opportunity?

As though reading his mind, Nogura said, “The ship destroyed by the Enterprisehad been attacking observation outposts positioned on our side of the Neutral Zone. Three of those outposts were destroyed by this single vessel, which, according to the Enterprise’s captain, was carrying some form of high-energy plasma weapon.”

Leaning forward in his chair, the admiral tossed the data slate so that it landed on top of several of the others on his desk.

“And it gets better. It seems our old friends have improved on their cloaking technology, at least to some degree.”

“They’ve advanced to the point where their ships are undetectable?” Jetanien asked. From what he had read about the cloaking, or “stealth,” technology employed by the Romulans more than a century ago, the power requirements necessary to envelop an entire vessel in a dampening field that rendered them invisible not only to the eye but also to sensors were huge. It was an obstacle the Romulans had only partially overcome in the twenty-second century, and that incomplete success was but one of the reasons Earth and its allies had stood a fighting chance during the war.

Nogura shook his head. “They’ve made improvements, yes, but according to Commander Spock, there are still some weaknesses to be exploited. He was able to track the Romulan vessel even while it was cloaked, but only after he knew what to look for. What we don’t know is whether the Romulan ship figured this out and communicated it back to its home base. If it did, then you can bet that Romulan scientists are already working to figure out where they went wrong so they can fix the problem and improve the cloaking technology even further.”

“I take it neither the cloaking nor the weapons technology was salvageable after the Enterprise’s encounter?” Jetanien asked.

“No,” Nogura replied. “The Romulan commander set his ship to self-destruct after it was disabled. Preliminary analysis of the hull remnants found near Palgrenax indicates a similar fate for that vessel.”

Cooper shook his head. “If the Romulans are in the Taurus Reach, then they’re interested in a lot more than just testing our borders.”

“Agreed,” Nogura replied. “Naturally, no formal means of communicating with their government are in place, so we’ve no way of contacting them and hearing their official denial of any activity in Federation space.”

“Well,” Cooper said, “they got wind that we’re up to something out here somehow, sir.”

Jetanien released a series of sharp clicks to indicate his agreement. “The commander is right, Admiral. They must obviously have suspicions about our own presence here. The challenge we now face is determining how much they know and how they are getting their information.”

“Oh, yes,” Nogura said, as though remembering that his wastebasket required emptying, “there’s one morething. It seems that Romulans bear a striking resemblance to Vulcans. In fact, and again according to the Enterprisescience officer, it’s entirely possible that the two races are related.”

“Good God,” Cooper said, his mouth falling open in unrestrained shock. “We have evidence of this?”

The admiral shrugged. “It’s supposition at this point, but Vulcan High Command is verifying Commander Spock’s report. Begrudgingly, I might add. It would appear that this is a sore subject with those Vulcans who are even aware of the connection.”

Shaking his head, Jetanien tried to imagine the impact such a revelation might currently be having on the Vulcan people, to say nothing of how this might be viewed by their interstellar neighbors. As a long-valued ally of Earth and a founding member of the Federation, would Vulcan and its storied civilization now be looked upon with suspicion and fear by those once called friends? The ambassador suspected that such paranoia would be short-lived, owing in large part to the very loyalty and trust that had been forged over nearly a century before the Earth-Romulan War and only strengthened as that conflict was waged.

“If they were reluctant to talk about it before,” Cooper said, “I can only imagine what they’ll be like once Starfleet Intelligence gets on this.”

“Indeed,” Jetanien added. “They doubtless are already considering the possibility of Romulan spies in our midst, possibly posing as Vulcans. That they may have had such operatives among us for more than a century will only add to their anxiety.” It would, Jetanien believed, be little different from what Starfleet currently faced with respect to the rampant rumors of surgically altered Klingon agents operating in Federation space.

Nogura rose from his chair, clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled from behind his desk. “If you’re saying our lives just became a good deal more complicated, Ambassador, then I’m afraid I’ll have to add understatement to the long and distinguished list of skills you seem to possess.”

Jetanien grunted, ignoring the admiral’s gentle wit. As if his own mission here was not difficult enough, the ramifications of yet another interstellar power vying for the secrets of the Shedai were almost too much to contemplate.

And yet, at the same time, the Chel could not resist considering the challenges and even rewards for whoever might forge some new foundation of understanding and—dare he think it—cooperative spirit between the Federation and another longtime adversary.

Intriguing,he thought, to say the least.