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.”

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN