Agents of Influence

by Dayton Ward

  Khatami nodded. “Agreed. Mister Yataro, proceed with your plan. It’s up to you so far as repairing or replacing the buoy; whichever you think is the best way to go. Keep me informed.”

  “Understood, Captain.” Taking his leave of Khatami and Estrada, Yataro exited the room with Tomkins following close behind. When the doors closed, the lieutenant turned to Khatami.

  “Something’s still bugging me about all of this, Captain.”

  Eyeing her communications officer, Khatami asked, “What’s eating you?”

  He waved toward his console. “That malfunction. It was small enough it didn’t impede the buoy’s systems or affect our ability to use the boost all four of them are giving our systems, but still sufficient to attract attention if someone knew to be looking for it.” He grimaced. “Hell, I might have completely missed it if I hadn’t decided to run some checks. Otherwise? There’s no telling how long it might have gone unnoticed.”

  “You’re not getting paranoid on me in your old age, are you, Hector?” She punctuated the question with a gentle smile.

  Estrada said, “First, I prefer the term ‘advanced middle age,’ if it’s all the same to you, Captain.” After they both chuckled at that, he added, “I know it doesn’t make sense to look at this in that way, but at the same time, we are involved in a whole bunch of crazy cloak-and-dagger spy games here.” He paused, then rolled his eyes. “Okay, when I say it out loud like that it just sounds crazy.” Waving his hands in the air, he turned back to his console. “I’m sorry, Captain. Forget I said anything.”

  Patting him on the shoulder, Khatami said, “No, I don’t think I will.” When he looked over his shoulder at her, she pointed to his workstation. “Do me a favor. Review everything you have from the buoy’s system logs since it was brought online. Even before Yataro and his team took it outside.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  She reached up to rub her chin. “I’m not sure, other than there’s no sense in not ruling out causes for the buoy’s acting up on us. If nothing else, it’ll help Yataro with his diagnostics. I mean it, Hector. Check everything.”

  Estrada patted his console. “Aye, Captain. However, I should warn you it could take a while.”

  Making a show of looking around the dimly lit, repurposed room that was now the hub of activity for her and her senior staff, Khatami stifled an urge to laugh.

  We’re not going anywhere. May as well use our time wisely.

  Thirteen

  Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep following what had been an entertaining if not life-altering evening’s worth of recreational activities, D’zinn stepped through the doors leading to the Vekal Piltari’s command deck. It was the middle of the night, at least so far as the ship’s onboard schedule was concerned, and the control center was only sparsely occupied with members of the crew serving as relief for her primary staff. Thankfully, the ship’s complement was small enough that she still knew each of their names. Vodat, one of her engineers, was tasked with overseeing the command deck’s overnight operations. He did so while struggling to avoid the obvious lure of Avron, who operated the helm console while tossing furtive glances over her shoulder at him.

  “What is the problem, Vodat?” D’zinn asked, not quite succeeding in her attempt to mask her irritation at being awakened at this early hour.

  Clearly uncomfortable with having summoned her, Vodat nevertheless maintained his composure as he directed her attention where another younger male Orion stood at the sensor station.

  “Ralanna has been monitoring scan readings and found something I thought you would find… interesting.” He gestured to the other Orion, and D’zinn almost laughed as the younger man—barely out of adolescence, really—cleared his throat in obvious nervousness while regarding her with wide, anxious eyes.

  Is he worried I might kill him, or take him back to my bed? He had given her no reason to do the former—at least not yet—and if the rumors circulating around the Vekal Piltari were any indication, then he was far too inexperienced for the latter. On another occasion she may well have accepted the challenge for simple amusement, but she was in no mood for such things just now.

  “Ralanna,” she said, keeping her voice level. “What have you found?”

  The younger man replied, “Our scans detected another vessel. It seems to be taking great care to avoid the Federation starship we registered earlier.”

  Another ship? This was surprising news. “What kind of vessel?”

  “Recognition database shows it is a personnel transport craft. The design is consistent with similar ships manufactured in the Alpha Centauri system and used by civilian merchants throughout the quadrant.” He tapped a trio of controls and the image on one of his console displays changed to what D’zinn recognized as a technical schematic. The computer-generated diagram zoomed in to highlight its aft section.

  “This particular craft has undergone a variety of modifications and enhancements,” added Ralanna. “A more powerful propulsion system and defensive shield array, and its weapons are stronger than those typically found on civilian vessels. There is also a pair of shielded areas corresponding to its cargo holds that I am unable to penetrate with sensors.”

  “Shielded?” Now D’zinn was intrigued. “Even with our enhancements?”

  The younger Orion nodded. “The enhancements are what allowed us to register the shielded compartments in the first place. Without the configuration given to us by the Klingons, our scans would likely have registered nothing out of the ordinary, assuming we even detected the vessel at all.”

  “Were you able to tell whether their sensors scanned our vessel?” asked Vodat.

  “No. So far, there is no such indication.”

  D’zinn asked, “And you think they are deliberately trying to avoid the Enterprise?”

  “The course takes them through one of the asteroid field’s most dense and dangerous areas.” Ralanna punctuated his reply by gesturing to another of his station’s monitors, which depicted a map of the Ivratis field. “It would be a challenge even for a highly skilled pilot, who likely would find a way to avoid such a hazard in the first place unless there was no other alternative.”

  Stepping closer, Vodat examined the sensor readings that continued to stream across the console’s status monitors. “Where did they even come from?”

  “That is a question I tried to answer myself,” said Ralanna. Another series of commands entered into the station’s interface resulted in more data that began streaming down an adjacent display. “I attempted to track their course to the point they entered the region, but so far I have been unsuccessful. It is as though they simply appeared within the asteroid field, but that is obviously incorrect. Perhaps the ship’s pilot is more skilled than I first believed.” He gestured to the screen. “We know that those wishing to avoid detection have charted their own courses through the field, but such paths are not constant owing to the nature of the asteroids drifting through the area. However, an accomplished pilot or even a lesser-skilled person who still possessed experience traversing the region would be able to pursue such a course and adapt accordingly.”

  D’zinn was not convinced. “Or, there is another explanation. This may be a ruse perpetrated by the crew of the Starfleet vessel.”

  “You think that ship’s pilot is working with Starfleet?” asked Vodat.

  “Or, they are Starfleet.” Though she admitted the idea seemed unlikely as she first voiced it, upon further consideration she began to see the possibilities this new situation represented. “They may be using the transport to assist in the search for whatever remains of their missing starship.”

  At last report from her superiors, the U.S.S. Endeavour was destroyed as a consequence of its encounter with the Klingon warship that suffered a similar fate. It made perfect sense for Starfleet to dispatch another vessel to investigate, which explained the presence of the U.S.S. Enterprise in the area. D’zinn did not relish the idea of such a powerful ship lurking o
n the asteroid field’s outer boundary, but so far it had maintained a course one might expect to see from a ship carrying out a search for wreckage or any signs of survivors. The Vekal Piltari’s sensors had picked up evidence of the Endeavour’s destruction, apparently caused by a breakdown of its faster-than-light propulsion system resulting from damage inflicted by the Klingon cruiser. So powerful was the explosion that precious little remained of the starship, and D’zinn had ordered the collection of some remnants they happened across. So far as she could ascertain, the vessel was obliterated, and there had been no signs of escape pods, shuttlecraft, or anything else that might be providing temporary refuge to survivors.

  “A simple search operation would not require such elaborate coordination,” she said. “The only reason to engage a civilian vessel in what is clearly a military operation is if there remains a strategic objective.”

  Ralanna, displaying his youth and inexperience, asked, “What sort of objective might that be?”

  Smiling, D’zinn appreciated that such a simple, innocent question nevertheless harbored any number of potentially interesting answers.

  “Perhaps the Endeavour was carrying some kind of valuable cargo,” she said. “Or they were testing their own form of newly developed technology they hope to one day employ against an enemy. They may even have planned some sort of covert rendezvous. Despite its vaunted reputation as the defender of high ideals and progressive, inclusive civilization, Starfleet still conducts itself as a military organization, with everything that implies.”

  While she knew nothing about the Endeavour or its captain and crew, the Enterprise was another matter. That ship was fodder for all manner of stories, only some of which D’zinn actually believed to be true. By many accounts, its captain, a human named James Kirk, had a propensity for finding trouble in the most unlikely of places. Intelligence reports filtered down to her included information on Starfleet vessels, as well as others representing various Federation worlds, the Klingon Empire, and even the Romulans. Kirk’s name was a familiar one to her. According to those reports, he along with his ship and crew had survived multiple encounters with both the Klingons and the Romulans. There were unconfirmed rumors that Kirk himself, disguised as a Romulan, had successfully stolen aboard a Romulan vessel and obtained its cloaking device while managing to capture its commander in the process.

  D’zinn was not quite ready to believe such an improbable tale, but as a general rule she tended to err toward the notion that even the most outlandish of stories had at least some basis in truth. If the stories about Kirk were even partially accurate, they described a person who was formidable, comfortable with taking risks, and quite capable of carrying out acts of subterfuge. Bearing this in mind while considering the fact the Enterprise was here, now, made D’zinn wary.

  Interesting. Very interesting.

  Moving away from the station, D’zinn began pacing a circuit around the command deck. Was it possible she had stumbled across a clandestine Starfleet operation? If so, what were its goals? Who was involved? She knew all of this was just theorizing on her part; there was no evidence to support the notions she currently entertained. However, the unexpected appearance of the civilian transport in such proximity to the Federation starship now lurking at the edge of the asteroid field was curious.

  There was, she decided, a simple way to gauge the situation for herself.

  “Ralanna, transmit the location of that transport to the helm.” Halting her pacing, she turned to Avron. “Plot an intercept course, and call Melac and the others to their stations.”

  If there was nothing untoward about this mysterious ship, the Vekal Piltari and its crew would benefit from an extra opportunity so far as taking advantage of wayward vessels traversing the region. On the other hand, if it turned out to be something more, then she would alert her Klingon suitors and let them deal with it. She suspected they would be most appreciative upon learning of this new concern.

  Either way, D’zinn would be paid, and that was sufficient for her.

  Fourteen

  There was, Kirk decided, just no way to get comfortable.

  “Considering what I’m paying for this charter,” he said, shifting his position on one of the couches lining the bulkheads of the Dreamline’s passenger cabin, “I expected a little more value for my money.”

  Truth be told, he had to admit this section of the civilian craft was well appointed. The couches and accompanying recliners were overstuffed to such a degree that they seemed bound and determined to swallow him every time he attempted sitting on them. In contrast to the furnishings he was used to aboard the Enterprise, which were not spartan but hardly luxurious, the Dreamline appointments bordered on opulent. Tapestries featuring embroidered artwork that he recognized as representing at least a half-dozen Federation worlds adorned the bulkheads, hiding from view their utilitarian and comparatively unsightly metal finish. A thick red carpet of some material Kirk could not place covered the floor. The compartment was divided into this sitting area and a berthing space containing a bed and a lavatory. Traveling via this vessel was a fair step up from the shuttlecraft and other Starfleet transports to which he had long ago grown accustomed.

  Lounging on the couch set molded into the cabin’s opposite bulkhead, Lieutenant Uhura did not even bother trying to suppress a smile. “You should probably take that up with our travel agent when we get back, sir.”

  “Something tells me I won’t get much sympathy in that regard,” replied Kirk. “Our agent doesn’t seem to care much for creature comforts or other distractions.”

  He recalled those few occasions when he had spent any time with Nogura. Fewer than could be counted on one hand, and always in a professional setting such as the admiral’s office or briefing room. From what Kirk could remember, the admiral had little use for keepsakes, photographs, or other mementos. Indeed, it appeared he eschewed any flavor of the usual assortment of personal items one might reasonably expect to find littering the desk and shelves of a workspace in which its occupant spent considerable time. Further, Kirk realized he knew nothing about Nogura’s personal life. Was he married? Did he have kids? As hard as he tried, Kirk could not even conjure an image of the man in civilian attire. From all available evidence, it seemed the admiral’s life was his work. There was no arguing he played a vital role in the Starfleet Command hierarchy and was a prime mover in the realm of Federation security, but was that really all there was to Heihachiro Nogura?

  Maybe so.

  Giving up on the sofa, Kirk pushed himself to his feet and moved to the food slot set into the cabin’s forward bulkhead. Perhaps coffee might help, and he decided he might as well go forward and assist Sulu with monitoring the sensors. Though they were programmed to carry out their tasks without the need for operator intervention, Kirk preferred a pair of eyes watching over the machines working on their behalf. Besides, Sulu would welcome the company, as he had been alone in the Dreamline’s cockpit for nearly an hour after Uhura wandered into the cabin.

  “Is it possible that you’re just having an allergic reaction to civilian clothing?” Uhura could not help laughing at her own joke.

  Studying the food slot’s control pad as he prepared to order coffee for himself and Sulu, Kirk grinned. “As good an explanation as any. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t wearing a uniform or some kind of Starfleet-issue clothing.”

  He took note of the jade-green sweater Uhura wore, the bottom of which fell to her thighs and partially covered a pair of black leggings. She also had styled her hair so that it did not reflect anything a female Starfleet officer might choose. Like hers, his own ensemble of dark trousers and shirt along with a leather jacket came courtesy of the Enterprise’s stores and clothing manufacturing system, which normally was used to provide the crew with replacement uniforms as well as appropriate attire if required when interacting with the indigenous population of whichever world the ship might visit during the course of its mission.

/>   Though he possessed a small civilian wardrobe stored in his cabin aboard the Enterprise, occasions to wear it were rare. Even the brief respite at Starbase 24 enjoyed by him and his crew before Nogura cut short their leave had not afforded him the opportunity to shed his command-officer persona. In truth, it had been years since he felt comfortable wearing anything but a uniform. Nothing else seemed natural or appropriate anymore. Was he so far gone, ensconced in a career that demanded so much of himself, that there was little to nothing left with which he could simply enjoy life?

  Well, that’s not depressing at all.

  His odd thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the intercom system filtering into the passenger cabin, followed by the voice of Hikaru Sulu.

  “Captain, you need to come up here. We’ve got company.”

  Exchanging glances with Uhura as she rose from her couch, Kirk tapped the intercom’s keypad. “On our way.”

  A door set into the cabin’s forward bulkhead slid aside at his approach, revealing a short service corridor lined with storage compartments. The passageway could be crossed in two or three steps and ended at another door, which was already opening as Kirk moved toward it. Beyond that hatch was the transport’s cockpit. The compact space was crammed to overflowing with consoles and controls lining every available surface, with just enough room remaining to accommodate chairs for two pilots. Sulu occupied the leftmost chair, dressed in a simple yet stylish pair of gray trousers and a bright blue tunic worn snugly across his lean physique. Before him and his console was the cockpit’s forward canopy, which at present offered an unfettered view of the Ivratis asteroid field. The view was something of a trick, with the canopy equipped with imaging sensors that compensated for the near total lack of ambient light in the field. Thanks to this effect, Kirk could see numerous asteroids drifting in the void around them. Some could have passed for small moons, surrounded by smaller bodies of varying shapes and sizes.