Agents of Influence

by Dayton Ward

  Three individuals, a woman and two men—dressed in the standard red Starfleet jumpsuits worn in lieu of duty uniforms when work demanded more practical attire—rose to their feet upon seeing Khatami enter the bay. Their uniforms only served to make their alien visages that much more prominent. Their dark olive complexions along with black hair as well as the men’s beards and mustaches were impressive. Lacking sufficient information, Khatami had every reason to believe she was standing before three Klingons.

  “Captain Khatami,” said the woman, who stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Morgan Binnix. It’s nice to finally meet you. I can’t thank you enough for coming to get us.” Her expression faltered. “I’m also very sorry things took the turn they did.”

  Accepting the proffered handshake, Khatami replied, “Things taking odd turns are a way of life aboard the Endeavour, Ms. Binnix.” She paused, then added, “I’m sorry. I don’t even know your rank.”

  Binnix smiled. “That’s because such information is classified.” She leaned closer and when she spoke again it was with a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s commander, though.”

  She introduced her companions, Phillip Watson and David Horst, after which Leone excused himself and headed toward the facility’s medical bay. This left the agents alone with Khatami, who gestured toward the seating area.

  “Admiral Nogura only gave me the high points about your assignment,” she said after everyone found places among the sofas and chairs. “From what I gather, your role was mostly information gathering.”

  It was Watson who replied, “Mostly, though there were a few occasions when we were able to be a bit more proactive. Every so often, the opportunity to plant disinformation presented itself.” He nodded to Binnix. “That was more her purview, given her position working for Councilor Maroq, but Horst and I were able to get in on the act, every once in a while.”

  “My role was on a design team,” said Horst. “Computer, communications, and power distribution networks, that sort of thing. My former role in Starfleet was as a software design specialist, so I made myself familiar with Klingon design methodologies. I spent a lot of my time identifying ways for these systems to be exploited. Trying to sabotage anything at the design or construction stage carried too much risk, but there’s not a lot about the internal workings of the newest class of battle cruiser that I don’t know. I kept very detailed records of everything I worked on for our protected archive.”

  Binnix said, “I used my position to gather information related to government policy and strategic military planning. I can tell you everything about the Empire’s plans for increasing access to much-needed natural resources, and how they intend to engage various enemies. Obviously the Federation is high on that list, but they’ve got scenarios for taking on everyone from the Romulans to the Tholians to the Gorn and even a handful of nonaligned regions in a bid to expand their borders. Some of those aren’t of much consequence from a Federation perspective, while others are more concerning from a long-term view. For example, if the Klingons extend their territory in certain directions, then in a few years they might be in a position to launch multipronged attacks into Federation space that we’d be hard-pressed to defend against.”

  “There’s nothing in any of the latest intelligence reports to suggest this,” said Khatami.

  Watson replied, “There wouldn’t be. This is very protected information. We’re talking compartmented to such a degree that fewer than ten people even know about it.” He indicated Binnix and Horst with a wave. “Not counting us, of course. If any of this made it to a Starfleet intelligence brief, the Klingons would know they had spies deep in their inner circle. To that end, all we could do is collect the information and hope to dispatch it back to Nogura or whoever when we could.”

  Khatami eyed the man. “And what did you do?”

  “Infrastructure.” Watson shifted on the sofa so that he leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he faced her. “Domestic energy production, primarily for military use but also the civilian populace, as well. The Klingons have always been hampered by limited natural resources, both on Qo’noS and a large number of planets within the Empire. It’s been a key driver for expanding their sphere of influence, but their military machine is a perpetuating cycle of need and exploitation. Their avenues of expansion are curtailed by the borders of neighboring interstellar powers, and the directions open to them don’t offer much in the way of resource-rich star systems.”

  “So, all of this will come to a head sooner rather than later,” said Horst. “If they can’t find what they need elsewhere, they’ll start looking to take it from someone else. That will only get more serious as they continue to deplete their own native resources.”

  Rubbing his hands together, Watson said, “Speaking of which, you know about Praxis, the moon orbiting Qo’noS? At the rate they’re ripping minerals out of there without regard for safety or environmental impact, they’re about twenty, maybe thirty years at the outside from an irreversible catastrophe.” When Khatami asked him to elaborate, the engineer used his hands to indicate a rapidly expanding explosion.

  “Do they know?” asked the captain.

  “I don’t think they believe it,” replied Binnix. “Or, they think they have a handle on it, or they’ll somehow get a handle on it. The public certainly doesn’t know, and it’s another of those things we didn’t dare leak back to Admiral Nogura, but I’ve seen Phil’s projections.” Instead of saying anything further, she simply shook her head.

  Despite the fact the Klingons had been a mortal enemy of the Federation for more than a century, Khatami could not help feeling a pang of concern upon hearing this news. If what the agents described came to pass, it might mean annihilation for everyone living on Qo’noS. The Empire would be crippled. The seemingly endless state of hostilities that existed between it and the Federation would become moot. While the idea of no longer having to worry about war with the Klingons was an attractive prospect, this was not the way to achieve that goal.

  “And Nogura doesn’t know about this?” she asked.

  Binnix replied, “Not yet.” She nodded her head in the direction of an equipment locker situated near the entrance to Leone’s medical area. “The details of that and so many other things are locked in those encrypted storage crystals. Your chief engineer, Mister Yataro, has already scanned them as part of our initial debrief and examinations, and determined they’re completely safe and totally uncooperative so far as trying to open them. Only Nogura can access the information they hold, once they’re in his possession.”

  “Until then, they’re just really nice paperweights,” added Horst, “but after that? There’s enough material on those things to make Starfleet Intelligence lose sleep every night for a decade.”

  Before Khatami could respond to that, the doors to the cargo bay opened, this time to admit Lieutenant Commander Yataro. A Lirin, the Endeavour’s chief engineer was slight of build, with a bulbous head sitting atop a long, thin neck. Hairless, his lavender skin looked oily beneath the bay’s stark lighting. Large, dark blue eyes regarded Khatami as she rose from her chair to greet him.

  “Captain,” he said as he approached before indicating Binnix and her companions with a nod. “I apologize for the interruption, but you wanted me to keep you informed of our damage-control efforts.”

  “Indeed I did, Mister Yataro. I take it you have something new to report?”

  The engineer replied, “We have completed a survey of the entire hull and found no significant damage, either from our encounter with the Klingon ship or from our emergency landing maneuver. Lieutenant McCormack is to be commended for her skill in accomplishing a most impressive feat.”

  “We can save the commendation write-ups for a later time, Commander,” said Khatami. “What else have you got?”

  Unfazed by the captain’s statement, Yataro continued, “As I indicated when we first landed, the asteroid field’s background radiation continues to disrupt our sensors a
nd communications. Without the warp engines to increase power to these systems, our ability to detect approaching vessels is severely compromised.”

  “I’m guessing the same disruptions affecting our equipment will do the same for anyone looking for us?” asked Khatami.

  “That is correct, Captain. However, the same thing keeping us hidden from potential adversaries also camouflages us from detection by anyone hoping to effect our rescue. As things currently stand, we may miss contact with any search vessels. With that in mind, Lieutenant Estrada and my team have formulated a plan to address the issue. We propose deploying a small number of sensor buoys along the outer edges of the canyon in which the ship now rests, which could act as boosters for our sensors and communications array. If properly configured, they may also help to counteract the background interference, at least to a partial extent. To accomplish this, the buoys will have to be positioned at a specific distance from the Endeavour as well as one another.”

  From where she stood a few paces behind Khatami, Binnix said, “That sounds like an EVA job.”

  “I estimate that a team of twelve personnel can successfully deploy four buoys in the required manner and in the least amount of time,” replied Yataro.

  Although she was not enamored with the idea of sending any of her people onto the surface of an asteroid about which they knew little thanks to their compromised sensors, Khatami understood the only way to improve things on that front was to embrace unwelcome ideas. There might also be other benefits to Yataro’s proposed course of action.

  “Do you think you can boost power to the comm system enough for us to make contact with the disaster buoy?” she asked. “Maybe find out if the message we sent was received?”

  Yataro cocked his head as though considering that notion for the first time. “Based on the data provided by Lieutenant Tomkins, I believe that may be possible, Captain.”

  “Tomkins?” Khatami recalled what she knew of Lieutenant Ivan Tomkins; one of the newer members of Yataro’s team, the young engineer had distinguished himself early on during the Endeavour’s mission to Cantrel V to assist a Federation research colony. The personnel reports submitted by Yataro since the lieutenant’s arrival portrayed him as a capable young officer with unlimited growth potential. “This was his idea?”

  The Lirin nodded. “Indeed it was, Captain. I was skeptical at first, but Mister Tomkins proved quite persuasive. I believe this task is well within our capabilities.”

  That was enough to convince her. “Your plan’s approved, Commander. Prepare your team and head out whenever you’re ready.”

  “I might be able to help, Captain,” said Horst, who had moved to stand next to Binnix. “I’ve got some experience with field communications systems similar to those used in the buoys.”

  Watson added, “I’d like to pitch in, too, if you can use another set of hands.”

  “Your assistance would be most welcome, gentlemen,” replied the engineer before looking to Khatami. “Provided there are no objections.”

  “I know we’re supposed to be in quarantine, Captain,” said Binnix, “but that doesn’t really seem to make much sense now. We’re three able bodies. Let us help.”

  Khatami replied, “I’m not about to turn away any help I can get. I accept and appreciate your offer. The rest of the crew will need to be briefed on you, of course. Seeing you wandering about the ship is liable to turn some heads.”

  Binnix offered a wry smile. “For the first time in a very long time, Captain, I’m actually okay with the extra attention.”

  Nine

  The small civilian freighter dominated the image on the command deck’s forward viewscreen. It drifted, not quite tumbling, but in danger of doing so if left unchecked. D’zinn had no intention of letting that happen, of course. While the ship itself looked to be of little value, its cargo would more than make up for the effort expended by D’zinn and her crew to capture it.

  “Verify life signs,” she snapped without taking her eyes off the screen. Hands folded across her chest, she continued to study the inert vessel, which showed no signs of functionality.

  “Scans detect three life readings,” reported Melac from the cramped sensor station to her left. The muscled Orion male looked as though he might spill out of the chair that was almost too small for his physique. Bare arms extended from the sleeveless tunic he wore stretched across his broad chest, ending with large hands that played across the comparatively fragile-looking sensor control console. “Two Andorians and a Rigelian. The ship itself has no weapons, but I cannot believe they are completely unarmed.”

  D’zinn shrugged. “It will not matter.” Preliminary scans showed the freighter was largely automated, with the minimal crew likely present only for launches, landings, and the occasional maintenance task while in flight. She guessed they spent the rest of their time sleeping, getting fat on whatever foodstuffs sustained them during their voyages, or drinking. If they did anything else to pass the hours, she did not want to know about it. The important thing was that they posed little if any threat. Indeed, D’zinn suspected they were at this moment formulating a plan for peaceful surrender and perhaps even assisting in the transfer of their cargo from the freighter to her ship, the Vekal Piltari.

  “Netal,” she said, turning from the viewscreen to face her second-in-command. “Prepare a boarding party. I want the cargo moved as quickly as possible.”

  Another exquisite specimen of the best the males of her species had to offer, Netal regarded her with dark green eyes looking out from beneath a heavy brow. The green skin of his hairless scalp reflected the command deck’s subdued lighting, as did his chest, which was bare save for the pair of bandoliers he wore in crisscross fashion around his torso. An effective overseer on her behalf of the Vekal Piltari’s crew, he was obedient and loyal to her almost to a fault, always conducting himself in a professional manner, particularly in front of subordinates. In private, D’zinn allowed him to demonstrate his fealty in a number of other ways, most of them to her continuing satisfaction. While others in his position might use their station to undermine their captain for their own personal gain, Netal had never shown such inclinations. Like almost every other member of her crew, he had earned her trust.

  Nodding in response to her instructions, he said, “It will be done, D’zinn. And what of the crew?”

  “If they do not resist, make sure no harm comes to them.” Then, she frowned. “If any of them do resist, kill them all. Make sure they understand that from the start, but also ensure they comprehend the good fortune we are extending to them.” Unlike others who made their living as pirates and privateers working for the Orion Syndicate, D’zinn had never seen the need to inflict harm so long as other options remained. Her current employer had scoffed at this notion, but she was immovable on the subject. On the other hand, the safety of her crew was of paramount importance. To her, an attack on any of them was an attack on all of them and required answering in the strongest possible terms. She knew her reputation on this front was well known among other Syndicate ship masters, earning her no small amount of derision, but she did not care. It was this attitude that engendered her crew to follow her wherever she might lead, and to her that was of more value than any percentage of profit she might lose due to her leniency.

  Netal moved to the rear of the command deck, the doors ahead of him parting to grant him access to the corridor beyond. As he left, he was passed by another member of the ship’s crew entering the control center. An older male and more slender than many of his shipmates, he nevertheless remained in excellent physical condition for one of his greater years. A single strip of gray hair adorned his otherwise bald head, and unlike his younger counterparts he preferred not taut shirts or flaunting bare muscles but instead wrapping his body in a rich blue tunic tucked into tailored black pants. A wide leather belt circled his waist, and his polished black boots rose to a point just below his knees. His right earlobe was adorned with a gold hoop that matched the one piercing
his left nostril. Normally a person of good cheer, on this occasion his expression was almost unreadable.

  “Tath,” said D’zinn, smiling at her friend’s arrival. “You seem particularly troubled today.” She gestured to the viewscreen and its image of the freighter. “You should be happy.”

  “Oh, I am,” replied her engineer. “The new configurations for our sensors worked flawlessly. The other ship’s crew had no idea we were closing on them until it was too late, and by then the disruption field had wreaked havoc on their own onboard systems. All in all, it made for a very easy seizure of the freighter.”

  Gesturing for Tath to walk with her, D’zinn exited the command deck and entered the corridor on her way to her quarters. “And yet I sense something still concerns you.”

  Tath glanced behind and ahead of them, as though ensuring no one else might overhear them. “This new technology the Klingons are developing is quite interesting, but I worry about the role we are playing in its testing. For now, our participation is convenient, as it allows the Klingons to remain anonymous while putting forth the fiction that what they have developed is in fact a mysterious effect of the asteroid field.”

  “This area is largely avoided except for those in our chosen profession,” said D’zinn. “It is also mostly uncharted, so there is no way to thoroughly discount the possibility of the field possessing the very characteristics this technology is attempting to mimic. By the time anyone suspects anything untoward occurring here, the Klingons will have finished their research efforts and gone back to their Empire.”

  “And what of us?” asked Tath. “When our usefulness is at an end, will the Klingons allow us to return to our normal ventures? It seems to me it is in their best interests to ensure we are unable to reveal the truth about their technology.”

  D’zinn said nothing as they turned at an intersection in the corridor. She had considered the potential for something like her friend described, but discounted it as unlikely. “This is not the first time the Klingon Empire has engaged in clandestine business with the Syndicate. For all their posturing, they are eager to avoid their activities becoming known to the Federation until the appropriate time. This is one of those occasions. By the time Starfleet is aware of this new technology and the challenge it presents, it will be deployed aboard far more Klingon warships and forward operating outposts than can easily be countered.”