CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Where is Picard?”
Gowron, Chancellor of the Klingon Empire, regarded the
three with a wild glare that was, for him, a state of relative serenity. An
advisor stood at his side—a warrior the young captain recognized as Brigadier La’ra. Between the two, they could have filled the council
chamber behind them with the blood of their defeated enemies.
Whatever
pleasantries he might have considered, Mantovanni dismissed them immediately;
though he had never before spoken to Gowron directly,
his first sense was that it would do more far more harm than good to bandy
words.
Fortunately,
it was still K’las’ turn to deal with them.
“I
struck him down with my own bat’elh,” the Klingon commander answered steadily. “Even now
he hovers near death.”
If
the Chancellor was either pleased or angered, he gave no reaction.
“Your
initial report was brought to my attention by General Martok.
A... personal interest seemed warranted.” Gowron
smiled humorlessly for a moment, then his expression
turned to stone.
“You
have seen a visual recording from the Romulan probe?”
he inquired.
Both
Klingons nodded.
“Your opinion of its legitimacy, Lieutenant Kaala?”
If
there had been any lingering doubt of her place in Imperial Intelligence, it
was completely dissipated by La’ra’s sudden question;
it meant that on this particular subject—the possibility of the record being a
fake—he was far more interested in Kaala’s opinion
than he was K’las’. While that might have had to do
with her scientific abilities, somehow Mantovanni doubted it.
He
and K’las watched as something in her face changed: A
mask of impassivity dropped over her features, and her voice modulated until it
was almost totally without nuance.
It
was a tone the captain had rarely heard from a Klingon—the voice of an
impersonal observer.
“It
is not fabricated,” she responded
simply. “It is my opinion, though, that no one here knows anything of this—not even the Starfleet Intelligence operative.”
Gowron examined them all with his gaze; the inner workings
of his mind hidden even from his closest advisor, who himself looked uncertain
as to his line of thought.
“We
shall wait,” he abruptly declared. At last he addressed Captain Mantovanni.
“Conduct your investigation; you will have access to the information your
android requested. May it aid your quest for the truth.
“You
have 72 hours to respond satisfactorily to what has been discovered. After that, I shall be forced to assume you
have no explanation… and the Empire will take action accordingly.
“Qapla!” he finished, sweeping
away and off the view screen.
La’ra remained. He regarded Mantovanni briefly, and then
asked, “What will you do with the damaged Warbird?”
The
young captain considered that for a moment, and then answered concisely.
“Whatever I want.”
The
brigadier’s expression never changed, but his eyes narrowed in what might have
been respect.
The
transmission terminated.
“He
likes you,” Kaala whispered alluringly.
Mantovanni
smiled. “That means that when he kills me, he’ll have the decency to throw me to
his targs rather than letting my corpse rot in the
sun.”
“I
would not have believed it.” K’las looked at him with
new respect.
“You
do understand us.”
La’ra was not one for either ceremony or circumspection.
After he discontinued the communication, he crossed the hall to where Gowron had settled himself in the chancellor’s seat. It was
a throne, for all intents and purposes, but no Klingon would call it one; both
out of respect for the legends of Kahless, and the
fact that Klingons, in their warrior’s hearts, loved
the Empire… but loved the idea of an emperor a little less.
Without
even looking at him, Gowron began, “What do you wish
to do?”
“I
shall move the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and 11th Squadrons into sector 387
immediately.” He, of course, stated this plan as if its adoption was already a
foregone conclusion.
“From
there you would be poised to attack into three Romulan
sectors...” Gowron nodded, pleased. “Strategically acceptable.”
La’ra was not one to leave the unpleasant possibilities
unsaid. “Or four Federation sectors, should it become necessary.”
“Go,”
his leader replied sharply.
As
he turned away, already considering the fleet’s optimal deployment, Gowron’s voice halted him momentarily—not, though, with a
hearty “Qapla!”, as might have been expected.
The
Chancellor instead intoned, “Be prudent
in your decisions, Brigadier.”
This is what happens, La’ra thought, when a
warrior must also be a politician.
Wisely,
though, he left that unsaid.
***
“We
based our investigation on the following premises: One, the information
provided by both Commander K’las and the Romulan probe is accurate; two, that
a Federation starship would not ordinarily engage in such activity.”
Data
was pacing as he lectured to the assembled officers. It was a habit Geordi had watched him adapt gradually over the years
they’d played Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Warrick on the holodeck.
Only the pipe was missing.
“This
left a number of possibilities to investigate. The first was that an unknown
entity or race had duplicated both an Ambassador-
and an Excelsior-class ship in
sufficient detail to fool an interested and knowledgeable observer. There are a
number of beings who could perform such a feat.”
“Q,
for one,” observed Crusher.
“Sure,”
Geordi answered. “But when we added the additional
variable of motive, a lot of those possibilities just dried up.”
“Indeed,”
MacLeod affirmed. “It became obvious that such a line of reasoning was doomed
to fruitless speculation. If that level of power is being employed, we shall be
unable to prevent it or them from accomplishing their goals.”
“Agreed,”
affirmed Riker.
Data
continued, “Thus, we began to consider the idea that it was a Federation vessel. The fact that there had been two such
incidents in relative proximity to each other prompted me to consider analyzing
the pattern of ship disappearances in this and the adjacent area over the last
50 years.”
“That’s
why you needed help from the Klingons and Romulans,”
Mantovanni guessed. "A good number of adjoining sectors around here aren’t Federation territory.”
Data
nodded. “My attempt to research this using only available source material had
turned up a number of incidents over that time, but nothing sufficient to
warrant extreme suspicion.”
Geordi smiled, and activated the lounge view screen. On it
was a simple depiction of the surrounding space. While a number of ships had
disappeared in the region, it didn’t look like enough to concern Starfleet or
the Federation.
“But
when we added the Klingon and Romulan information
into the research parameters, we found this.”
The
smattering of dots which had just looked completely unremarkable suddenly
increased in number to a rather impressive collection.
“The
obvious question, then,” noted Riker, “is why no one has noticed this before
now.”
“I
would speculate the attacks were carefully planned and executed so as to avoid
the establishment of a discernable pattern,” Data replied. “In addition,
whoever is responsible for them has been careful to distribute their incursions
across Klingon, Romulan, Federation
and, presumably, non-aligned space, thereby preventing undue attention being
paid this particular group of sectors.”
“So
by spreading out their raids, they made them statistically insignificant enough
to escape notice,” Crusher deduced.
Data
nodded. “Precisely, Doctor. It was only the additional
information provided by the Klingons and Romulans
that enabled us to observe a pattern.”
“Oh,
man,” Warrick exclaimed in disgust.
“And this has been going on right under our collective noses for how long?”
“The
incidents seemed to abruptly increase in frequency approximately 24 years ago,”
MacLeod responded.
“Using
the data we had found, we then attempted to correlate the loss of either an Ambassador- or Excelsior-class starship with the approximate beginnings of the
other vessel disappearances.”
“The
Excelsiors
have been in service for almost a century, so that wasn’t much help at first.” Geordi raised his voice to address the mainframe.
“Computer,
how many Ambassador-class starships
have been removed from the active duty lists?”
A
moment later, the response came. "Nineteen vessels have been removed.”
“List
the reasons categorically.”
“Fourteen
have been retired from active service; two were destroyed in the line of duty;
one is currently undergoing refit; two are listed as missing and presumed
destroyed.”
“Which
two, and what was their last known location?” Geordi prompted.
“USS
Enterprise, NCC-1701-C, last reported position in or about the environs
of Klingon outpost Nerendra III.
“USS
Lucifer, NCC-8652, last reported position—classified.”
“Computer,
this is Captain Mantovanni. Command override for classified
access, current subject; authorization Mantovanni delta sierra seven five.”
The
computer percolated for a moment, then replied, “Clearance
insufficient. Access denied.”
“Why
am I not surprised?” Mantovanni asked rhetorically.
“I
don’t like where this is going at all,” Geordi
muttered.
“Computer,
this is Commander Warrick. Is there a security tag on this information?”
“Affirmative.”
Crusher
turned to him, and inquired, with a hint of sarcastic relish, “Forgive my
ignorance, but what’s a security tag?”
Before
the comment could become an exchange, Riker interjected smoothly, “It’s an
automatic notification sent to particular individuals if anyone even inquires about certain classified
information.”
“Then
it seems there is a secret here the
Federation wishes to keep concealed,” K’las observed.
Kaala added knowingly, “Even from some of its own officers, it would seem.”
“So
it would appear,” Mantovanni confirmed. A sudden idea occurred to him, and he
asked, “Where exactly was the Qu’letlh going, Commander? What was her mission?”
K’las considered the question for a moment, weighing the
security level of the information requested against the current need, and then
replied, grudgingly, “We were headed for the Gar’edd
system to evaluate it for colonization potential and possible incorporation
into the Empire.”
It
was Riker who continued, “Data, what do you know about the Gar’edd
System?”
“Accessing,”
the android replied, his expression growing momentarily vacant. “There is
little information about the sector of space in which it is located. Neither
the Federation nor the Klingon Empire had sent a manned expedition into that
area until the Qu’letlh’s
attempt two days ago.”
“In
addition, the system itself is near the epicenter of the ship disappearances
over the last 23.7 years.”
“I
think our need to get to Selerria Four just became
less pressing,” Geordi concluded wryly.
K’las, at that point, stood and folded his arms. “While
this investigation seems to have been
helpful,” he conceded, glaring down at Mantovanni and Riker, “I must now ask:
If we are going to the Gar’edd system, what do you
plan on doing with the Warbird?”
The
young captain smiled slightly. “I’m open to recommendations.”
“Destroy
it,” K’las and Kaala
declared simultaneously. Mantovanni noted that the thus far Worf
had been silent on the verge of agreeing, but for some reason had restrained
himself.
“Go
ahead, Mr. Worf. Briefings are for opinions.”
The
reluctant security chief rumbled, “They
would certainly have destroyed us, we are technically at war even now, and this is Federation space. In nearly all
cases, invaders should be dealt with harshly.
“However,” he added, even as K’las was nodding in agreement, “it is beginning to look as
if there may be ... extenuating circumstances.” He looked even more uneasy
after he’d concluded than he had before he began.
“An incisive analysis, Lieutenant,” Mantovanni acknowledged with
just a hint of a grin.
“If
the primary concern is concealing our departure, we could render them sensor
blind in addition to their other damage, and simply
leave them here,” Geordi suggested.
“Respectfully;
that would not be wise,” MacLeod countered, “since we would be leaving them
vulnerable to whatever has attacked the other ships.”
“Besides,
they’re still a Romulan Warbird,”
Warrick added. “We can’t leave a vessel with such capabilities just a few hours
from full operational status within Federation space.”
“One
thing we’re not considering,” Riker pointed out, “is that the Romulans have as
much right to know what’s going on as we do. We’ve all been losing ships.”
That effectively silenced the room.
Mantovanni
finally stood a moment later.
“Thank
you all. Stations, please; dismissed. Geordi, you,
Data, and Lieutenant MacLeod please remain.” As the others filed out of the
observation lounge, he turned back to the remaining three.
“I
have an impossible task for you…
“…and
I need it yesterday.”