Agents of Influence

by Dayton Ward

  Kirk shook his head in amazement. “Incredible.”

  “If there are any tangible gains from those specific efforts,” said Nogura, “I don’t know that we’ll see them for a few years at the least. On the other hand, the agents have still brought us numerous gains about which the public knows little, while providing us with valuable information with which to base long-term strategic planning. If the Empire decides they want another war with us, we’ll see it coming almost before they do.” His expression fell. “At least, that was the idea until eight days ago when we got their emergency extraction message. For some reason we don’t yet know, they felt they were in danger of being discovered and obtained transport off Qo’noS, carrying out their part of an extraction plan we’d put together even before they were inserted. The idea was simple: Travel to a predetermined location along the Neutral Zone for rendezvous with a starship that would bring them to me. Klingon observation outposts along the border are well aware of our patrol routes on our side of the zone, so this seemed like a decent enough cover for an extraction operation. With that in mind, I dispatched the Endeavour to handle the pickup.”

  “The Endeavour?” Kirk made no attempt to hide his confusion. “Last I heard, it was assigned to exploration and survey duty in the Taurus Reach.”

  Nogura replied, “Officially, that’s what they’re still doing, but I needed a ship and Captain Khatami’s was the one available on such short notice. Besides, the Klingons and everyone else paying attention to our fleet movements knows Constitution-class ships are always reassigned at the admiralty’s whim for all manner of reasons. So, this provided at least some cover for what we needed.”

  “If everything had gone to plan,” said Kirk, “I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

  Instead of replying, Nogura pressed more keys on the viewscreen’s control pad, and the image changed to a stark white picture emblazoned with black text: U.S.S. ENDEAVOUR SHIP LOG. STARDATE 6045.8.

  Two days ago, Kirk mused.

  “As you’ve likely guessed,” said the admiral as he touched the control to begin the log playback, “the entire operation’s gone to hell.”

  Five

  Stardate 6045.8

  “Captain, cargo bay one reports all three passengers are safely on board.”

  Pacing the upper deck of the U.S.S. Endeavour’s bridge, Captain Atish Khatami stopped as she came abreast of the main viewscreen and nodded toward her communications officer, Lieutenant Hector Estrada. The older man sat at his station, a Feinberger receiver in his right ear and an expression of concern on his face. His gaze was not on her but instead appeared to be looking toward the overhead, and Khatami knew he was listening to some additional report coming over the active comm frequency.

  “What’s wrong, Estrada?” she asked.

  “The… passengers, Captain. They’re insisting we transport over some kind of small cargo container, but it’s shielded from our scans and the transporter chief is worried.”

  Still studying the screen, Khatami nodded. She understood and appreciated such caution, as transporting any unknown item aboard the ship without proper screening and other safety protocols being observed was not only a violation of Starfleet regulations but also dangerous. Under normal circumstances, she would be the first to make the same sort of objection, and would support any subordinate voicing similar reservations.

  The circumstances, however, along with everything else associated with this mission, were not normal, and Khatami knew the longer they stayed here, the more irregular the situation would become.

  “Tell the chief to bring it aboard on my authority. Have the passengers open it for scanning, then the security detail is to place them and it into the quarantine facility immediately.” She glanced at a chronometer on the environmental control near the front of the bridge. “And do it fast. I want to get out of here. We’ve already been here longer than I like.”

  She returned to studying the main screen and the image of the civilian transport displayed on it. Small and innocuous as it drifted among the asteroids, the vessel was nothing more than a dark metallic box with little in the way of aesthetic features. Everything about it was function over form and substance over style. It was not of Klingon design but neither did it look like any Federation ship she had ever seen. Khatami suspected it had come from one of the nonaligned systems in this region of space, but she was unable to place it. Not that it mattered. Her only concern was that the craft be untraceable to some point of origin that might implicate the agents who had used it to make their escape. Having been reassured on this point by Admiral Nogura, Khatami was content to forget about the ship as soon as their business here was concluded.

  In accordance with the extraction plan as explained to her by Nogura, the Endeavour had only been in transporter range of the smaller vessel for less than ninety seconds after the starship’s sensors registered its arrival at the outskirts of their present location, the Ivratis asteroid field. Located between the farthest boundary of the Omega Leonis system near the border between Federation and Klingon space, the region had fallen under Klingon control during the Empire’s war with the Federation a decade earlier. With territorial lines redrawn following the cessation of hostilities, this area at present belonged to neither party. The asteroid field was marked as a hazardous area on most navigation maps and star charts due to the density of debris along with background radiation capable of hampering sensors. Both Starfleet and civilian ships tended to avoid the field itself, but Khatami knew from official reports and her own prior experience on border patrol duty that the region was not unknown to pirates and other parties who used it to mask their movements from the watchful eye of Starfleet and other law enforcement entities.

  It also provided decent enough protection from casual observation for those seeking to make a covert rendezvous of the sort the Endeavour was now attempting.

  “Captain,” said Estrada. “The group’s leader is asking to speak with you as soon as you’re available.”

  Waving away the suggestion, Khatami moved from the main viewscreen. “Later. I want Doctor Leone and Lieutenant Brax to give them a good going over before they talk to anyone, including me. For now, we do everything by the book and according to Admiral Nogura’s orders.”

  As part of the hasty briefing she and her senior staff received while en route from the Taurus Reach to Omega Leonis, Nogura had instructed them to follow all isolation protocols with respect to the retrieval of long-term covert intelligence agents. According to the information shared by the admiral, Morgan Binnix and her team had been under deep cover for several years, doing everything possible to blend into a hostile environment at great risk to themselves as well as Federation security. Then, there was the simple matter that the Endeavour’s three new passengers all looked like Klingons, and would continue to do so until they received the surgery necessary to restore their human features. Having them walk around the ship, even in Starfleet or Federation civilian clothing, would only cause disruption among the rest of the crew, most of whom were not yet aware of the true nature of their mission.

  Until then, every precaution had to be observed during a retrieval operation, including quarantining the reclaimed agents until such time as they could be debriefed by authorized personnel. This took the form of confining the three new arrivals to a special containment facility hastily constructed for just this purpose in one of the Endeavour’s cargo bays located in the lower portion of the starship’s primary hull. Part temporary housing, part medical bay, and part office space, there they would receive full medical physicals and their belongings would be searched for any illicit items. There was also the possibility that one or more of the operatives had been negatively influenced in some manner, and now worked as a converted asset for the Klingons. Such a development could prove dangerous if not disastrous should the rogue agent be allowed to slip undiscovered back into Federation society or some sensitive position within the government or Starfleet.

  Not on my watch.

>   Khatami intended to follow every rule and regulation as well as each syllable of Nogura’s instructions to the letter. There simply was too much at stake, the most immediate danger being to the Endeavour and its crew. To that end, only a small number of her people even knew the real reason for their current assignment and were sworn to secrecy. Only those with an absolute need to know would have access to the agents. The ship’s doctor, Anthony Leone, and its chief of security, Lieutenant Brax, would conduct the first interviews. Leone would verify their overall good health and provide whatever treatments might be necessary, while Brax examined their belongings to ensure nothing dangerous had somehow been brought aboard and escaped initial scans. While Brax was barred from conducting full interviews or debriefings, he could still ask preliminary questions in an attempt to discover if any of the agents were being somehow duplicitous. At the very least, equipment aboard the Endeavour could ascertain whether the operatives were being truthful or spinning lies.

  There were limits to what she could do without further authorization from Nogura, but that would not stop Khatami from leaving anything to chance. She knew the agents represented enormous value from an information standpoint to Starfleet Intelligence. Nogura had stressed the importance of protecting the assets until they could be handed off to him, but he was not here, and neither was anyone else who stood to benefit from whatever vital information the operatives carried in their heads. If she sensed for one moment that any of the retrieved agents posed a threat to the Endeavour, Khatami would take any and all actions necessary to protect her people.

  Nogura and everyone else will just have to deal with it.

  Stepping down into the command well, Khatami made her way around the helm console and to her chair at the center of the bridge. As she took her seat, she glanced to the science station along the bridge’s starboard bulkhead. “Mister Klisiewicz, are we still alone out here?”

  Hunched over the hooded sensor viewer that was his console’s most prominent feature, Lieutenant Stephen Klisiewicz did not look up as he replied, “So far, so good, Captain. However, our sensors are still somewhat muddled thanks to the asteroid field. The picture will be clearer once we’ve got some distance from it.”

  “Let’s get on with that, then,” said Khatami. She had not liked the idea of bringing the Endeavour into the field, and the faster the ship was back in open space, the happier she would be. “Helm, take us out of here, nice and easy. Navigator, as soon as we’re clear of the field, plot a warp-five course back to Starbase 24.” Glancing again to Klisiewicz, she asked, “What about our friends’ ship?”

  The dark-haired science officer replied, “I’ve been monitoring all onboard systems since we arrived, Captain. No communications or other signals have been sent, beyond their contact with us.”

  “That doesn’t mean they didn’t get a call out to someone before we showed up,” said Lieutenant Commander Katherine Stano, the ship’s first officer. Making her own circuit of the bridge stations as she kept abreast of everything taking place around her, she paused near the engineering console and crossed her arms. “I know we didn’t pick up any other signals on our way in, but with the asteroid field playing with our sensors, that’s not saying much.”

  Klisiewicz gestured to his station. “I ran some reconfiguration protocols on the sensor array to mitigate the disruption. It helped some, but we’re still dealing with some pretty heavy background interference.”

  “It’s not going to matter in a couple of minutes,” said Khatami. “Right?”

  “Our passengers initiated their ship’s self-destruct protocols prior to beaming over,” replied Klisiewicz. “The warp engines are on a buildup to detonation and should go in about two minutes or so.”

  Wiping aside a lock of brown hair that had fallen across her forehead, Stano nodded. “Another fine reason to be somewhere other than here.”

  “Agreed,” said Khatami. “Helm, can we handle full maneuvering thrusters in here?”

  Seated before the captain at the left side of the combined helm and navigation console, Lieutenant Marielise McCormack replied, “I think so, Captain. This area of the field’s not so dense as the way we entered.”

  Khatami watched as the compact, unimpressive transport receded on the main viewer. It took only a moment to disappear from view, blocked by asteroids drifting around it as the Endeavour continued its egress maneuvers. Once it was back in open space, the ship would have to skirt the edge of the field closest to Klingon territory in order to plot a clear course for Starbase 24. Only then would she allow herself to relax.

  “Countdown to detonation in five seconds,” reported Klisiewicz, stepping away from the science station to watch with the rest of the bridge crew as the transport’s warp engines reached their programmed overload point.

  The main viewscreen managed to catch one last view of the transport before the image automatically dimmed to counter the effects of the brilliant white sphere of energy erupting from the ship’s hull, expanding outward until it consumed the entire vessel. It was over in seconds, with what little debris remained of the transport flung in all directions. While the Endeavour was already far enough away that the resulting shockwave would have little to no effect on the starship’s shields, the impact on the closest asteroids was already noticeable. The invisible band of released energy struck more of the drifting and tumbling bodies than Khatami could count, pushing them ever farther into the field. Some would strike still more asteroids, she knew, perhaps creating a cascading action that might only be arrested by the presence of a large enough mass or another gravity field.

  Could be a hell of a show. Too bad we won’t be around to see it.

  “How soon until we’re clear of the field?” asked Stano, who by now had moved to sit on the curved red railing to Khatami’s left.

  Not looking up from her helm controls, McCormack replied, “About three minutes at our present speed, Commander.”

  “Course plotted for Starbase 24,” added the Endeavour’s primary navigation officer, Lieutenant Neelakanta. Turning toward Khatami, the tall, lean Arcturian regarded her with deep, dark purple eyes staring out from the pronounced brow of his bald head. His soothing mauve complexion was at odds with his gold uniform tunic. “Estimated travel time at warp five is six hours, twenty-eight minutes.”

  Khatami nodded in approval. “Excellent. That should give Doctor Leone and Lieutenant Brax enough time to complete their evaluations of our guests.”

  An alarm tone from his console made Klisiewicz return to the science station mere seconds before the red-alert klaxon erupted across the bridge. The indicator positioned between the helm and navigator stations began flashing as Khatami dropped her gaze to the astrogator separating McCormack and Neelakanta. Where only a moment ago it depicted the Endeavour’s course along the asteroid field’s periphery, now it displayed an icon representing a second ship.

  “Deflector shields just activated,” reported McCormack.

  Six

  Once again peering into his sensor viewer, Klisiewicz said, “There’s another ship in here with us. Sensors didn’t pick it up earlier due to the background interference. They’re on an intercept course.” When he looked up from his station, his face was a mask of concern. “It’s a Klingon cruiser.”

  “Weapons on standby,” ordered Stano, pushing herself from the railing and stepping down into the command well. She moved to stand behind McCormack. “Be ready for evasive maneuvers. Let’s see it.”

  On the main viewscreen, the image shifted to depict what Khatami recognized as a Klingon D7 battle cruiser maneuvering around a particularly large asteroid. One of the Empire’s most advanced warships, it was more than capable of standing toe to toe with the Endeavour. The only saving grace was that the ship appeared to be alone, making this an even match, at least according to the technical specifications she had memorized and her own past experience along with that of her crew.

  Feeling her muscles tensing in anticipation, she asked, “How long unt
il we’re clear?”

  “Another minute or so,” replied McCormack.

  Klisiewicz added, “They’re going to intercept us before then.”

  “Anybody want to bet against them not knowing why we’re here?” asked Stano, glancing over her shoulder.

  “They’re across their border, lurking in the same asteroid field where we just picked up three spies on the run from the Klingon homeworld.” Khatami frowned. “No bet.”

  “They’re already within range and powering up weapons,” reported Klisiewicz.

  “Mister Estrada,” said Khatami. “Hail them. Ask them what they think they’re doing and remind them they’re not in their own yard anymore.”

  “Too late!” It was Klisiewicz, his voice rising in alarm. “Incoming fire!”

  There was no time to warn the rest of the ship to brace for impact as seconds later the ship shuddered under the force of powerful weapons slamming into the Endeavour’s deflector shields. Lights and consoles around the bridge flickered as energy was automatically drawn from every available system to reinforce the shield generators. The impact was enough to pull Khatami off her seat but she clamped her hands on the arms of her chair to keep her place.

  “Two hits to the rear deflectors,” said Klisiewicz, holding on to his console while continuing to review sensor data. “They’re already down to sixty-five percent.”