Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

57

“Incoming!”

In defiance of his weapons officer’s warning, Komoraq stood before his captain’s chair on the M’ahtagh’s bridge, holding on to nothing for support as the photon torpedo made impact against the cruiser’s shields. Consoles and display monitors across the bridge flickered as power momentarily dipped, and Komoraq felt his stomach lurch as the ship’s artificial gravity and inertial dampening systems wavered for the slightest instant.

“Return fire!” he ordered, punctuating the command by pumping his gloved fist in the air before him. On the forward screen, the image of the Starfleet ship danced in and out of view, as though taunting him.

I will mount their captain’s head on my trophy wall,he vowed, relishing the image of how he would exact vengeance for what had transpired here. The Starfleet captain, a treacherous petaQin the finest Earther tradition, had employed misdirection and subterfuge rather than facing him directly, capitalizing on such trickery in order to close to transporter range of the planet. Sensors had detected the transporter signatures, and Komoraq had even ordered his communications officer to warn his wife and the rest of the landing party on the surface, but the response from Lorka had told him he was too late. The Earthers had infiltrated the ancient ruins, no doubt seeking to reclaim their lost compatriot. Meanwhile, the Starfleet ship had turned back toward the M’ahtagh,engaging in strafing runs and other craven maneuvers with the obvious goal of keeping his ship from getting close enough to the planet to send down reinforcements. No matter how long he lived or however many times he might engage Earthers in battle, he never would understand their predilection for wasting so much effort on the salvation of a single life.

Such weakness ultimately will be their undoing.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Kalorg called from the weapons station, “the enemy vessel is altering course again!”

Stepping forward so that he stood alongside the helm console, Komoraq shouted, “Fire at will!”

On the viewscreen, successive bursts of fiery red energy lanced across the void separating the two ships, and Komoraq watched the multiple flares as the disruptor blasts slammed into the Starfleet vessel’s deflector shields. For an instant, the field around the enemy ship glimmered, and he was sure he saw one of the bolts pass through the protective barrier to strike the ship itself.

“Direct hit on their secondary hull,” Kalorg reported. “No breach.”

The other ship returned fire, brilliant beams of blue energy cut across the void, interspersed with the hot white, elongated orbs of a photon-torpedo barrage. Once more, Komoraq felt the M’ahtagh’s shields absorb the hits, though this time, he heard the troubled warbling of the main engines as they, too, suffered the effects of the assault. On the bridge, the most immediate effect of the strike was the loss of the main viewer, the image depicted on it dissolving into a storm of hissing static.

“Shield generators are down to twenty-six percent,” Kalorg called out above the din of alarms and the status reports offered by other members of the bridge crew. “Warp drive is offline. Main sensor array is inoperative!”

“Get me a tactical plot,” Komoraq ordered. Reaching past his helm officer, he stabbed the controls on the console to execute the command, but the viewscreen remained nonfunctional. To his credit, the young lieutenant manning the helm did not appear affected by the chaotic situation, his attention focused on his station as he continued to pilot the vessel. “Where are they?”

“They’ve broken off their attack,” Kalorg replied. Turning from his station, he added, “Captain, they maneuvered into orbit around the planet and activated transporters again.”

Had the Earthers found their precious companion? Komoraq did not care about that any longer. Lorka had found the human to possess value to her research, but he was happy to be rid of the miserable cretin. He could only hope that the Earthers had taken the equally worthless Tholian with them, though he would not have minded killing the irksome rodent himself.

“Bring us about,” he ordered, standing behind his helm officer and observing the console’s array of tactical displays, which indicated the M’ahtagh’s position in relation to the planet and the Starfleet ship. “Stand by all weapons. All available power to the forward shields.” Even with his own vessel wounded, he had no intention of breaking off the fight.

“Captain!” Kalorg said. “The enemy vessel is veering away from us.” A moment later, he added, “They have accelerated to warp speed.”

No!

Komoraq’s furious growl echoed around the cramped bridge as he pounded the back of the helm officer’s chair with his fist. The Earther captain had apparently accomplished his mission and now was running like a terrified child, rather than remaining here and finishing the fight he had started. Coward!

“What is the status of warp drive?” he asked, rage all but smothering every syllable.

Shaking his head, Kalorg replied, “The engineer reports that it will take at least thirty kuvitsto bring control systems back online.”

Too long, Komoraq knew. Turning to Kalorg, he said, “Kill the engineer.”

“Yes, Captain,” Kalorg replied, saluting as he acknowledged the order.

From the communications station, Lieutenant Mondol said, “Captain, we are receiving a signal from the surface from Commander Lorka.”

“Open a channel,” Komoraq ordered, his heart racing at the mere mention of his wife’s name. Whatever had transpired on the planet below, his mate had survived.

“M’ahtagh, this is Science Officer Lorka. Something is happening down here.”

Frowning, Komoraq replied, “What do you mean?”

“Massive power generation throughout the complex,”Lorka replied. “We are detecting energy readings across the continent.”

Komoraq looked to Kalorg. “What’s she talking about?”

At the weapons station, the lieutenant was scrambling to find answers. “I’ve rerouted navigational and weapons-tracking scanners to substitute for the main array,” he said. Then he nodded. “She’s right. There’s an enormous power buildup across the planet. It is the alien systems, Captain.”

“How in the name of Fek’lhrcan that be?” Komoraq asked.

Then, in one sickening instant, realization dawned.

“Alert the transporter room!” he shouted, pointing to Kalorg. “Get them out of there!”

Scorn. Chaos. Fear. Doom.

The thoughts echoed in the Shedai Wanderer’s consciousness as she emerged from the void and fell to the lush, thriving world. Weakened from her journey, she nevertheless was able to sense the presence of Telinaruulon the world the Shedai once had ruled. Reaching out with tendrils of her consciousness, she was able to detect the hints of primitive life, created by the Makers long ago and placed here to develop at its own rate. The primeval children were aeons from evolving into anything that might be of any use to the Shedai, but their very existence had been tainted by the arrogant meddling of the unworthy ones who seemed capable of nothing but stumbling from planet to planet and contaminating everything with which they came into contact.

There were only a few of the vermin infesting the planet, the Wanderer knew, along with many more in proximity to the planet, contained within the pathetic vessel in which they traveled among the stars. Still, she sensed the effects of their presence, as she had on the worlds throughout the realm where she had encountered their kind. Once again, they had overstepped their bounds, taking it upon themselves to insert themselves where they did not and would not ever belong. Even in her weakened state, exterminating them would require almost no effort. The Telinaruulwere not what had compelled her

Drawn here by the fearsome, unexplained Voice that had resonated through what remained of the Conduits, the Wanderer had expected to find the Telinaruulhaving somehow discovered a means of using Shedai power for their own ends. Whatever had reached out to her across the vast gulfs separating stars was here no longer. Probing the dormant mechanisms left behind by the Shedai ages ago, she sensed only the residue of the Voice’s passing. If it had originated here, how had it been able to leave? As far as the Wanderer knew, only she possessed the ability to travel among the stars without benefit of the Conduits. Was this some secret harbored by the Makers? If so, for what purpose had they confined this knowledge only to themselves?

Even the vestiges of the unidentified presence carried with them a foreboding that shook every fiber of the Wanderer’s being. There could be no mistaking its malevolence, which even after its passing remained entwined with everything it had touched. The dread it seemed driven to summon was palpable, reaching out from the depths of darkness as it searched for… something.

Feeling the energy of the planet responding to her commands, the Wanderer now knew what she must do. The Voice, whatever it might represent, was an evil without equal, surpassing even that of the Apostate. It, and anything it touched, must be eradicated at all costs.

That purging would begin here.

58

“The three of us are going to have to stop meeting like this,” Nogura said as he entered his office to find Ambassador Jetanien and Commander Cooper waiting for him. “People are going to start talking.”

The ambassador, dressed as always in the robes of his office, replied, “Thank you for meeting with me so late in the evening, Admiral.”

Walking around his visitors on his way to the food slot on the back wall, Nogura shrugged. “I’d only been asleep for two or three hours, anyway. If we’re going to keep doing this, we should at least play poker or something.” He reached for one of the data cards on the small shelf next to the food slot, selected one, and inserted it into the unit’s reader before keying a command sequence. A moment later, the food slot’s door slid up, revealing a cup of steaming coffee on a saucer. Glancing over his shoulder at Cooper, he waved the executive officer to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Commander, I take it you’re an insomniac in training as well?”

“It sort of comes with the job, Admiral,” Cooper replied, his smile belying the fatigue Nogura saw in the man’s eyes. The commander was right, of course; one did not assume the mantle of command if he looked forward to catching a lot of beauty sleep.

“What can I do for you, Ambassador?” Nogura asked as he took his coffee and made his way to his desk.

His manus clicking as though he might be anxious, Jetanien said, “The Klingons are very angry, Admiral.”

Nogura paused in the act of bringing the cup of coffee to his lips. “That’s why you got me out of bed? Because the Klingons are angry?” He looked to Cooper. “Make a note of that, Commander. The Klingons are angry. While you’re at it, I’d like an update on the status of the station’s water supply. Is it still wet?”

“This is anything but a joking matter, Admiral,” Jetanien said, punctuating his rebuttal with a series of irritated clicks and grunts.

Waiting until he had savored the first sip of coffee—and making a mental note to commend the station’s chief engineer, Lieutenant Farber, for seeing to it that the food slot was able to prepare his favorite blend properly—Nogura returned the cup to its saucer and leaned back in his chair to regard Jetanien. “Perhaps you could be a bit more specific, Ambassador?”

Jetanien stepped closer, until he stood behind the other chair in front of Nogura’s desk. “Specifically, the Klingons are unhappy about what happened at Mirdonyae V.”

“Ah,” Nogura replied, nodding. “Well, they should probably take that up with the Shedai. They’re the ones who left a global self-destruct system lying around without an owner’s manual.” He had read the report from Captain Khatami the previous evening, which detailed the Endeavourdoubling back to the planet after departing in the wake of the successful rescue of Lieutenant Xiong. The starship’s sensors had detected the shock wave emanating from the Mirdonyae system, and Khatami and her crew had seen with their own eyes the vast, expanding field of debris that was all that remained of the fifth planet. By all accounts, the Klingon contingent on Mirdonyae V had fallen victim to its own arrogance and carelessness.

“What I don’t understand,” Nogura said, “is how the Klingons were able to achieve that level of access to the weapons systems, or anything else, for that matter. According to Xiong, they’d only managed moderate success before kidnapping him.”

“They must have been paying attention as Xiong worked,” Jetanien replied. “Not that it matters, as they’re claiming we triggered the self-destruct, that our people used it as a last-ditch act of desperation when it became evident that they could not defeat the Klingon vessel on their own.” He punctuated the comment with what sounded like a belch. “In doing so, they slaughtered a number of Klingons who were not party to the combat, to say nothing of destroying an entire world that the Klingons had claimed in the name of the empire.”

“And somehow managed to avoid getting destroyed or at least severely damaged along with the Klingon ship still in orbit when the planet blew?” Nogura asked, rolling his eyes. “That’s some trick.” Turning to Cooper, he asked, “Commander, I assume the Endeavour’s sensor logs corroborate Captain Khatami’s accounting of the events?”

Cooper nodded. “Absolutely, sir. The Endeavourwas well under way when the incident occurred and only knew what happened because sensors picked up the gravimetric disturbance while they were tracking for signs of Klingon pursuit.”

That was consistent with Khatami’s report, Nogura knew. Her theory was that the Klingon contingent on the planet somehow had accessed the Shedai planetary defense system they believed to be hidden far beneath the surface, perhaps in a bid to bring those weapons to bear against the Endeavour.Their unfamiliarity with the technology had almost certainly been their undoing.

“There is the matter of a Starfleet ship attacking a Klingon target,” Jetanien said. “Naturally, comparisons are already being drawn to what happened on Gamma Tauri IV.”

“Outrageous comparisons, to be sure,” Nogura countered. Starfleet’s public-relations machine had never fully recovered from the black eye inflicted by the tragic, if necessary, actions taken by Commodore Reyes on that occasion. They, along with the merciless dissection of Starfleet’s military policies and rampant debate regarding the appropriateness of such power and authority given to Starfleet officers, had raged through media outlets for weeks after the incident.

“But ones to which the Federation Council and Starfleet Command remain sensitive,” Jetanien said, his tone one of caution. “Even if such comparisons are without merit, viewing the incident on Mirdonyae as isolated is enough to make the Klingon High Council most displeased.”

“The Klingon High Council can get stuffed, for all I care,” Nogura replied. “I’m still not convinced that Klingons weren’t behind what happened to Reyes’s transport.” The notion that pirates had attacked and destroyed the U.S.S. Nowlanwas not out of the question, but raids against Starfleet vessels by such groups, Orion or otherwise, were exceedingly rare. He could not even recall such an incident within the last twenty years.

“According to them,” he continued, “they had no knowledge of those Klingons attacking our people on Erilon, to say nothing of kidnapping Xiong. We’re supposed to believe that mob of alleged rabble rousers was acting without any authority from higher command? In that case, we did them a favor by dealing with them ourselves. Formal thanks aren’t necessary, but they should feel free to send flowers or perhaps a nice selection of cordials.”

Jetanien snorted. “I find that highly unlikely, Admiral. Needless to say, this latest incident will almost certainly incite reprisals.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Cooper said.

“One of the nicer ways, actually,” Nogura added, “but I suspect we’ll have plenty of time to worry about the Klingons.” Rather than allow his concerns over the ever-worsening political situation to consume him just now, he chose to dwell on the relief he felt over the rescue of Ming Xiong, who had survived in fine form the ordeal to which he had been subjected. “What do we know about this new Shedai artifact the Klingons provided Xiong?” While some might view the actions he took while in captivity as collaborating with an enemy, Nogura did not see it that way. He had read Khatami’s report following her debriefing of the lieutenant and believed, as she did, that any cooperation Xiong had offered was in the guise of learning what he could about their knowledge of Shedai technology, all while using his expertise either to formulate an escape plan or—as had happened—to broadcast a plea for help.

“According to Xiong,” Cooper said, “it’s some kind of key or cipher. The access it allowed him into the Shedai computer system on Mirdonyae V is unprecedented, far beyond anything we’ve obtained on any of our expeditions to other planets with such technology.” He shrugged, frowning. “The problem is that we’re just looking at more stuff that we really don’t understand.”

Nogura nodded. “What about the other people Dr. Marcus has engaged to help decipher the Shedai computer systems?”

“A work in progress, Admiral,” Cooper replied. “As you know, Starfleet Command’s only recently approved your requests to have the specialists she’s asked for to be briefed on the project. Now that they’ll have full access, things should start moving at a faster pace.”

Finishing his coffee, Nogura said, “Let’s hope we’ll find some way of holding off the war long enough to give them the time they need to finish the job.” He knew that the Klingons would simply add the incident at Mirdonyae to the grievances that were rapidly piling up on the negotiating table currently separating the Federation and the Klingon Empire. Would this latest straw break the camel’s already straining back and along with it any chance of success for the ongoing diplomatic talks? Experience and cynicism told Nogura that the prolonged cold war between the two interstellar powers was heating up, and the boiling point was fast approaching.

It’s a matter of when, not if.

“It’s good to see you, Lieutenant,” said Carol Marcus, taking in the image of Ming Xiong on the computer terminal in her quarters. Though he looked more than a little gaunt, and there was a noticeable bruising on his face, she was thankful that he appeared not to look too much the worse for wear. “You look pretty good, all things considered.”

On the screen, Xiong nodded. “If it matters I probably feel better than I look. Nothing a few nights’ sleep in a decent bed won’t cure. That and any meal that’s not from a Klingon menu.”A wistful expression played across his features. “You know, when I joined Starfleet, this wasn’t exactly the kind of career I had in mind.”

Marcus could not help laughing. “What, you’re admitting that you were dazzled by all that talk of exploring strange new worlds, or whatever it is that’s engraved on all the walls at Starfleet Academy?”

“Guilty,”Xiong replied, matching her smile. He held up his right hand in a gesture of mock surrender. “You’ll have to forgive me. I was a hopeless idealist back then.”

“And now?”

Xiong paused before answering, and when he did, his expression faded. “I don’t know.”Looking around the small room that Marcus presumed was the quarters to which he had been assigned on the Endeavour,he said, “So much has happened since we began all of this. Even when I received my assignment to Vanguard, I never thought it would evolve into what it has. I was driven by the potential for discovery, what that might mean not just for us but for everyone.”He shook his head. “But now look where we are. Everything’s been warped and perverted. No one cares about the scientific benefits of what we’ve found. It’s all about power and who can get what first.”Looking directly at her, he added, “What’s worse is that I’m now a willing participant. I know that no matter what I believe or want to happen, for now, everything we’re doing is simply about doing it before the Klingons can do it.”

“Don’t lose sight of what you believe in, Ming,” Marcus said, sympathetic to what the man was feeling. “As much as I prefer the pursuit of science for noble goals, Starfleet isn’t the bad guy here. Besides, we both knew coming in that figuring out the Shedai and the meta-genome and everything else was as much about not letting anything like a weapon fall into enemy hands as it was about increasing our knowledge. Until everyone in the galaxy can learn to live with everyone else, it’s always going to be like that.”

Xiong sighed. “I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it, just as I don’t have to like what all of this has turned me into.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Ming,” Marcus said. “Admiral Nogura couldn’t speak highly enough about you once he read the reports that Captain Khatami and I submitted. What you were able to accomplish while you were a prisoner is astounding.” When she contemplated everything the man had endured during the past months, she could not help but shake her head in wonder. It was a testament to the man’s character that he had persevered under such conditions, not merely to survive but also to continue carrying out his mission to the best of his ability, all while preventing enemies from getting their hands on the invaluable discoveries he had made while being held in captivity.

Xiong said, “I had help, of course. I couldn’t have done any of it without Tasthene.”He paused, casting a glance downward. “I wish I could have helped him.”

“I’m sure you did everything you could,” Marcus replied, hoping the words did not sound as hollow to Xiong as they did to her own ears. “And as long as I have my say, everything he did to help you won’t be in vain.” She watched as Xiong reached up to rub his eyes and stifle a yawn. “Ming, why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll have plenty of time to talk once you get back to the station. Besides, you’re going to need that rest. Thanks to you and Tasthene, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us and all sorts of new avenues to explore.”

“Point taken, Doctor,”the lieutenant said, seemingly relieved. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon. Xiong out.”

The screen faded, leaving Marcus alone with her stacks of reports and files, several of which had been created just since her initial conversations with Xiong in the days after his rescue from Mirdonyae V. Based on the reports submitted by the archaeology and anthropology officer as part of his debriefing aboard the Endeavourwhile the starship was en route back to Vanguard, she could not wait to get her first look at this mysterious crystal the lieutenant had brought with him. Why had the Shedai created it? What was its purpose? What abilities did it possess that provided its seeming ability to interface and take control of Shedai computer systems? Of course, the progress Xiong and Tasthene had made while prisoners of the Klingons had raised new questions regarding the advanced nature of Shedai technical advancement. Of greater, arguably tremendous importance was the notion that such achievement appeared linked to the ancient race’s apparent mastery of genetic manipulation, as well as their demonstrated ability to affect at will the delicate balance between matter and energy. These were the puzzles that would occupy Marcus, Xiong, and the entire Vault research team in the weeks and months ahead.