The Dark Veil

by James Swallow

  “Federation craft moving now,” continued Benem. “Their forward arc is bearing toward us.” He swallowed hard. “I advise we fall back beyond the storm cell’s nimbus.”

  “Retreat?” Helek cursed him with the word. “When we have the upper hand?”

  “Do we, Major?” Maian did not waste the opportunity to undercut her.

  She raised her hand and did not look at the old veteran. “Centurion Garn? If Lieutenant Maian speaks out of turn once more, remove him from the bridge and do not be gentle.”

  Garn’s reply was a grunt of assent. In the midst of the action, the crew had forgotten Helek’s man standing at the back of the command deck, observing everything that went on there.

  Maian bowed his head, finally accepting that silence was his better option.

  Helek rose to her feet and drew herself up. It was clearly necessary for her to reinforce her position as the mistress of the Othrys, and there was no better way to do that than drawing the blood of an enemy. She pulled from within herself, finding the depthless well of seething hate and loathing that the Zhat Vash had nurtured in her, from the first day they had taken her into their secret cadre.

  “Centuries ago, we carried the Romulan flag to the very gates of the Terran homeworld, burning worlds along the way and striking fear into the hearts of their alien cohorts. Now the Empire’s fortunes are ill-starred and these old foes believe we are fragile, that we can be made to pay for the daring of our ancestors.” Helek showed a vicious, predatory smile. She was finding her pace, channeling her rage. “These weaklings whose armada will not meet us in open war, who cannot even show the animal courage of a Klingon or the base cunning of a Cardassian!” Helek glared through the viewing screen at the Titan, seeing the damage-scarred saucer and glowing warp nacelles pivot in their direction. “They are a pestilence. A canker, against the order of nature! The galaxy will be better with them removed from it.” As she said the last few words, Helek thought of the synthetic abomination that Vadrel had terminated in the laboratory, and her gorge rose. In that moment, she could not have hated the androids more.

  None of the other officers spoke, their faces set, unwilling to show anything that might be considered dissention. Good. They are learning.

  “Prepare the primary weapon to fire once again,” said Helek. “And this time we will turn Titan into a smoking wreck.”

  But the weapons officer did not respond. Sublieutenant Kort’s gaze was fixed on his console and his eyes were wide, as if he could not comprehend what he saw on the readouts before him.

  “Kort!” Helek spat his name. “I gave you an order!”

  The sublieutenant jerked in shock at the sound of her voice. “Major, the Starfleet vessel is attempting a target lock! They could only do that—”

  “If they see us,” said Benem.

  “Energy surge off the starboard wing,” growled Dasix, peering at her station’s hooded scanner module. “Plasma effect is causing photonic drag.”

  “They see us!” This time, Decurion Benem shouted the words, and it was as if an electric charge crackled through the atmosphere inside the Othrys’s bridge.

  On the screen, Helek saw bright flashes of yellow-crimson fire gather at the ends of the Titan’s phaser collimator ring and race together. Where they met, a lance of light burst forth, seeking the warbird.

  “Evasive maneuvers, now!” She gave the command, but not swiftly enough to matter.

  To an outside observer, Titan’s phaser barrage would seem to strike nothing, meeting an invisible object caught among the flow and eddy of the churning plasma clouds. Then a millisecond later the hit stripped away the light-bending shroud of the warbird’s cloak and the Othrys was suddenly revealed.

  Major Helek experienced this as a colossal impact along the starboard wing and fuselage of the ship, a blow that rang through the spaceframe, rattling the deck plates, knocking her off her feet. Helek stumbled into the command chair and almost fell, clumsily catching herself halfway. Her cheeks darkened, an emerald flush coming up as rage and humiliation coursed through her.

  “How can this be?” Hade-Tah was saying. “It is not possible…”

  “The cloak was compromised,” Dasix growled. “The plasma mass reduced its effectiveness by too great a margin. We squandered our advantage the moment we followed them into the storm cell.”

  “See to your tasks!” Helek resisted the urge to chastise the Reman with more than just words, and dragged herself back into the command chair. All about her, alarm tocsins brayed, signaling the damage the warbird had taken in the Titan’s retaliatory strike.

  “Federation ship has our bearing, they’re coming at us,” said Benem.

  “Your orders, Major?” Maian broke his silence, and once more he made a simple inquiry sound like an accusation.

  “Fire back!” she demanded. “Fire everything!”

  “Unable to comply, main weapon charge cycle has been disrupted,” said Kort. “Secondary armaments are not at optimal power levels.”

  A second salvo from the Titan crashed into the warbird’s half-raised shields and once more the vessel quaked like a palsied drunkard.

  With nowhere else to direct her fury, Helek slammed her fist into a fold-up screen beside her chair, smashing in the display and cutting her knuckles on the device. Under her breath, she cursed Riker, that Betazoid witch of his, and their idiot child. I will see you all suffer before this is ended.

  “If we cannot fight, then restore our shroud.” Her savage glare turned on Benem, but the Garidian was too cowardly to meet it, worrying at the controls before her.

  “The cloaking projectors are still inoperative,” said Dasix, answering for Benem. “We will need to disengage if they are to be returned to function.”

  Helek drew in a breath of tainted air through her teeth in a low, feral hiss. The next words she spoke tasted foul on her tongue, but she had no other choice to make. “Reman! Put whatever power you can muster into impulse engines! Helm, set an escape pattern and fall back beyond the edge of the storm cell.” She dared Maian to say anything. “Do it now!”

  The lieutenant silently inclined his head, and turned the Othrys away, into a retreat.

  “The Titan is reducing speed,” said Benem, after a long moment. “Yes, confirming that. The Starfleet vessel is breaking off pursuit and moving away.”

  “They’re heading back into the storm,” added the Taurhai navigator. “Where we cannot track them.”

  Helek muttered an epithet under her breath, sneering at Captain Riker’s cowardice. The human does not have the courage to finish us off, she told herself, regaining her lost poise. He would rather risk a slow death from radiation in the storm than battle in open space.

  “They cannot hide in there forever,” said the major, casting around the bridge. Most of the crew refused to meet her eye, and that pleased her. They were afraid of her now, and that was exactly what she wanted. “When Riker and his synthetic collaborators show themselves, we will be waiting for them. And next time, they will find only death.”

  * * *

  Commander Deanna Troi hugged herself as a cold wind blew around the clearing, the air inside the Ochre Dome stirred up by the arrival of the cargo shuttle as it passed through a force field in the glassy hemisphere high overhead.

  The Monk came down swiftly and settled a hundred meters from what was left of the temporary encampment from the Titan. Most of the prefabricated habitat modules and yurt-like bubble tents had collapsed when the Jazari generation ship was bombarded by the Romulan warbird, and the damage stretched beyond into the woodlands around them, where fallen trees and smashed support structures were visible.

  Troi walked toward the shuttle as the thruster note dropped away to silence. Behind her, she could sense the other evacuees from the Titan watching and waiting. None of them understood why the Othrys had suddenly attacked them, and Friend’s terse explanation had not been enough for Troi to grasp. She searched for any sign of a floating drone, but saw nothing. If the
machine mind was observing her, it was doing so in secret.

  A hatch in the cargo shuttle’s flank dropped open, and Lieutenant Commander East was the first out, the security chief’s watchful, hawkish eyes taking in the location before signaling that the landing site was safe. The dark-haired Irishman caught sight of Troi and he gave her a rueful nod. “Commander.”

  “Jonathan.” She returned the gesture. “Good to have you down here.”

  “We’ll keep you safe,” he promised. Behind him, a tall and rangy Kelpien woman stepped out and one hand wandered to her neck, where her threat ganglia were visibly twitching. “Ensign Kono, you’re with me,” said East, and he led the other officer away to secure the perimeter.

  “Imzadi.” Deanna’s husband emerged and they drew each other into a silent embrace. “Here we are again.”

  For a moment, Troi’s emotions ran so strong and so high she thought she might burst into tears, and she saw the same in her husband. With a deep breath, she swallowed that down and stepped back. “Will… when the attack began, I was so afraid…”

  “Me too,” he replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated being so far from you and Thad.” He almost stumbled over the name of their son. “Is he—?”

  “He’s all right,” she told him, and Will changed right before her eyes, as if an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. “It was touch and go for a little while, but the Jazari did what they promised. They’ve healed him.”

  Behind them, the Monk’s crew were opening up the shuttle’s rear drop ramp and bringing out fresh supplies for the displaced civilians. Troi and Riker stepped aside, holding on to this brief moment, both knowing that they would only have a few moments to be husband and wife, to be parents, before the needs of the situation forced them back into being Starfleet officers.

  “Can I see him?”

  “He’s with Doctor Talov.” Troi led him toward one of the tents that remained standing. “We’re lucky, Will. We didn’t lose anyone down here.” She sighed. “But the Jazari were not so fortunate.”

  Riker picked up on the sorrow in her tone. “Zade?”

  “And others, as I understand it. Helek has their blood on her hands.” Troi shook her head. “Why did she do this? It doesn’t make any sense!”

  “She seems to believe we’re in league with the Jazari against the Romulan Empire,” he told her. “I’ve got no idea what happened to Commander Medaka. He was someone I could reason with, but Helek…? That woman is running on pure rage and little else.”

  “An unfortunate truth of her kind,” said an arch voice, and they turned to see three Jazari males approaching. Troi’s heart sank as the querulous Qaylan led the group to block their path, with the technician Keret and the former diplomat Veyen following on behind. “I have frequently observed that outsiders allow themselves to be governed by passions and not rational thought. It is why I advocated disconnection from other species.” Qaylan inclined his head. “Today’s events have proven me right.”

  “Not every outsider is—” Veyen tried to offer a different viewpoint, but Qaylan silenced him with a hard look and the diplomat let his sentence peter out.

  “You’ve come to see us leave?” said Troi.

  “That would be for the best.” Qaylan’s tone shifted, becoming an insincere parody of the formal politeness his fellow Jazari usually exhibited.

  “I’ll take my people back if that’s what you want,” said Riker.

  “I do,” Qaylan replied.

  Riker went on as if the Jazari had not spoken. “I’ll bring them back to the Titan if the Governing Sept rescinds their offer of sanctuary.” Will let that lie for a moment. “Do you speak for all of them, sir?”

  Qaylan’s scaled face twisted in irritation, and he tried a different tack. “Putting your people on our great ship led the Romulans to attack us. We are victims because of you!”

  “You’ve got it backward,” Riker corrected. “Helek wants your vessel obliterated. We were the ones getting in the way.”

  “Why does she wish us destroyed?” said Keret, but the manner in which he exchanged glances with Veyen suggested to Troi that he already suspected the reason. While she might have been unable to sense the Jazari’s emotions with her empathic abilities, she could still read other physical cues. “We have done nothing to her,” Keret concluded.

  “That’s something I’d like an answer to myself,” said Riker. He let out a weary breath. “You have to know, this isn’t the end of this. Major Helek is a member of the Tal Shiar, the Romulan Star Empire’s most dangerous agency, and they are by their very nature relentless. She won’t give up and go home.”

  “So you say.” Qaylan sniffed.

  Troi tried a different approach. “Together we may be able to find a way through this, to get you to where you want to go. But going forward alone would be a serious miscalculation. We came to your aid with the spatial fracture and now again with the Romulan attack. But the danger is not over. Surely you can see, this is not the time to push us away.”

  “My first officer has deployed some of the Titan’s shuttlecraft to the inner edge of the storm zone,” continued Riker. “We’re using them as sentries, so when the Othrys comes back, we’ll get advance warning. But before that happens, we need to work together to formulate a combined strategy.”

  “The Jazari are not students of warfare,” said Veyen. “We only defend ourselves. We cannot attack another sentient life-form. It is in our code.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Troi assured him. “Armed conflict is always the last resort. If we can resolve this peaceably, we will.”

  Qaylan peered at the fallen trees and damaged hab-modules. “The Romulans do not seem to share your intentions!”

  At her side, Troi heard her husband release a low sigh, and she knew he was reaching the limits of his patience. “I’m willing to discuss this situation in full, sir,” he said firmly. “But first I want to see my son.”

  Qaylan gaped as Riker turned his back on him and marched the rest of the way toward the medical tent; Troi jogged to keep up with him. A comment about tact crossed her mind, but then she thought better of it. For the moment, diplomacy be damned.

  Riker was reaching for the door flap of the bubble tent when it came open of its own accord, and Thaddeus was standing there. He blinked in the false daylight, still pale and shaky, but very much alive. “I heard your voices,” he said. “Didn’t want to sit around and wait…”

  Riker scooped him up into a bear hug. “You’re all right,” he said, more to fix that certainty in his own mind than to tell it to their son.

  “I guess,” Thad said weakly. “I’m sorry. I made you worry, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” Troi heard the tremor in her husband’s voice. “And you’re going to be in trouble for it later, but right now your mom and I are very, very happy you are okay.”

  Thad looked across to Troi as she joined their hug. “I didn’t mean to get into trouble.”

  “Riker boys never do,” she said with an unstable smile.

  “True enough,” offered Riker.

  Doctor Talov stood on the threshold of the tent, holding a medical tricorder, and he gently cleared his throat. “I have completed a neural scan and cursory physical examination of Thaddeus. The Jazari reparation process is remarkably efficient, and it appears to have fully healed all neurological and physical damage. I will need to run additional tests, but I believe your son will make a complete recovery.”

  “Friend fixed me,” said Thad, but the boy began to cry. “Zade said she would, but he…”

  “Friend?” Will asked Deanna. “Who’s that?”

  “It’s complicated,” she replied.

  “Dad, Zade died.” Thad buried his face in his father’s shoulder. “I liked him and he’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry, kiddo.” Riker tried to comfort his son. “But sometimes bad things happen to people that we care about, and we can’t do anything to stop it.”

  “That’s not fa
ir,” said the boy, with such innocence and pain that his mother had to turn away. “Why can’t Friend fix him too?”

  “Maybe… she can.” Troi saw figures approaching from the ruined tree line and it took her a second to process what she was seeing. East and Hernandez were escorting a third person back into the ruined encampment, a Jazari with a pained limp and an injured gait.

  The new arrival raised his head. The Jazari she had seen crushed to death beneath tons of poly-alloy and marble stood before them. Zade, it appeared, was very much alive.

  Thad called out his name and everyone turned, and Riker let down their son. “Why do I feel like I’ve missed a meeting here?”

  “We found him at the edge of the dome,” said Lieutenant Commander East. “He insisted on seeing your lad, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “I needed to be sure he was healed.” When he spoke, Zade’s voice had a broken, crackling quality. To Troi, it seemed as if she were hearing it over a damaged communications circuit.

  “Zade!” Thad’s first reaction was a burst of joy, and he took a step toward him. But as the boy took in the condition of the Jazari, that moment of happiness soured and became fright. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I have been impaired.” Zade was clutching at a wounded arm, hiding it from them, stiff with injury from the collapse that should have killed him—that would have killed any other being, thought Troi. He seemed unfocused, as if caught in a daze.

  “No! Get back!” Qaylan came running toward them, waving his hands, frantic to put himself between the Titan crew and Zade before they could come any closer. “Get away from him!”

  The diplomat Veyen and the technician Keret were a few steps behind, and on their faces Troi saw open shock. But was it because they, like her, had believed Zade was dead—or was it because they did not expect to see him here?

  “Zade is badly injured,” Veyen insisted. “Our codes forbid aliens to be present at such times. You must not see him like this, it is prohibited.”