Agents of Influence

by Dayton Ward

  It was therefore to Le’tal’s great surprise that she received notice of an inbound communication, from a vessel making an unannounced visit.

  “Perhaps someone might explain this rather glaring irregularity,” she said as she walked into the outpost’s control center.

  Turning from where he stood next to a Klingon soldier sitting at the center’s communications station, No’Khal offered a disapproving grunt. “A Klingon ship is on an approach course. Outer boundary sensors detected it and we have been tracking its progress as it makes its way deeper into the asteroid field. This is not a random occurrence, my friend. This ship knows we are here, and they are hailing us. We have not yet responded.”

  Le’tal frowned, considering this revelation. Looking around the control center, she noted that even with the unusual situation now developing, the outpost’s command hub continued to operate as though it were any other evening. Located at the facility’s top level, the compartment was hexagonal in shape and capped with a high, domed roof. Five of the room’s six walls hosted their own set of four oversized display screens, with the exit set into the wall behind her. Beneath each set of screens were rows of controls and indicators arrayed in a variety of colors and configurations. Most of the stations were devoted to the outpost and its internal systems, while two at the room’s far end were detailed to overseeing the numerous tests conducted by the experimental disruption-field equipment. Additional workstations were positioned in three pairs at the room’s center, though at this time of night only those devoted to sensors and communications were staffed with watch personnel. In accordance with Karamaq’s wishes, these posts were always monitored by members of his security force, the only soldiers working in an environment otherwise dominated by civilian scientists and engineers.

  And just where is Karamaq?

  The thought taunted Le’tal as she considered possibilities. Was he still caught in the cocoon of drink-induced slumber? It would not be an unusual occurrence, she reminded herself.

  To the soldier sitting at the communications console, she asked, “Where is your commander?”

  A large, muscled specimen with long dark hair flowing over the shoulders of his uniform tunic, the Klingon shifted in his seat. “I have summoned him, Doctor Le’tal. He is en route as we speak.”

  Le’tal nodded. If nothing else, the soldiers under Karamaq’s command always conducted themselves as professionals, rather than falling into the tired stereotype of military members disrespecting civilian workers. It was a refreshing change, and one Le’tal was convinced was the product of Karamaq wanting to curry favor with Imperial Intelligence. It was they, after all, who placed a great deal of importance on this project, and this meant the uncommon practice of extending courtesies to those not in uniform.

  “They are repeating their hail, Doctor,” reported the soldier, whose name Le’tal could not remember. “Now they are requesting immediate clearance to dock, and they are transmitting a proper clearance code. I have verified its authenticity.”

  His companion, seated at the sensor station, added, “They continue their approach. Scans identify the craft as a standard Klingon Defense Force personnel transport normally used by ranking officers.”

  No’Khal said, “Verified encryption key for their communications, and a correct clearance code for landing. Whoever they are, they are well aware of our security protocols. Someone from Imperial Intelligence, perhaps?”

  “That is the most likely explanation,” Le’tal replied. She waved to the communications officer. “Direct them to the hangar bay, and inform your Commander Karamaq to meet us there.”

  With No’Khal following her, she made her way from the control center. Her instincts were telling her she was not going to like whatever this ship was bringing to her.

  * * *

  The hangar bay was the largest single facility within the outpost. Built into the asteroid’s bedrock, it was well protected from bombardment and concealed for the most part from the prying eyes of sensor scans. A double set of reinforced blast doors offered protection from the harsh vacuum of open space, though the entire chamber was constructed from the same material. In an emergency, the outpost’s entire contingent of personnel could be relocated here, as it was by far the safest location in the facility.

  Possessing no true warships, the outpost’s military contingent instead utilized a squadron of four well-armed scout craft. As the research conducted here was not general knowledge to the rest of the Klingon Defense Force or even the High Council, operations of this sort tended to rely on whatever limited resources could be made available by Imperial Intelligence without raising too many unwanted questions.

  The four ships assigned to Commander Karamaq and his security force along with the single civilian personnel transport for use by the outpost’s science and support contingent took up less than half of the cavernous hangar bay’s deck space. This left plenty of room for the outpost’s newest arrival. Unlike the scout ships that bore scratches, dents, chipped paint, dulled metal, and even dirt as evidence of extended duty here in the Ivratis asteroid field, the mysterious transport looked as if it had only just launched from a construction facility’s orbital docking bay. Undersized and cylindrical, it possessed a pair of warp nacelles, which also served as landing gear, tucked along the primary hull’s underside. A pair of impulse engine ports flared outward from its back end, and its forward section angled to resemble a spear tip. Its cockpit interior was visible through a transparent canopy, and Le’tal saw a pair of Klingons sitting at the ship’s controls. Neither of them seemed interested in leaving their seats. At the craft’s midpoint a hatch was embedded into the thick reinforced hull, and as it slid aside, a narrow ramp extended from its base until it reached the hangar bay’s deck.

  “Remind me,” Le’tal said, whispering to No’Khal. “Are we supposed to take a single knee, or prostrate ourselves in total supplication?”

  Her friend eyed her with subdued amusement. Standing to his other side, Commander Karamaq, dressed in his most formal uniform and doing his level best to hide the fact he might still be at least somewhat intoxicated, also heard the remark and glared in her direction with obvious disdain. Neither of her companions could say anything before the sound of footsteps on the transport’s metal ramp caught their attention. Descending from the ship was a Klingon male Le’tal did not recognize. Though he wore a variation of uniform similar to Commander Karamaq’s soldiers, she could see at a glance it was too clean and well tailored to make this an officer with any real military experience aboard a ship or ground station. Instinct told her this was a bureaucrat, someone interested in status reports and allocation budgets and other administrative minutiae for which Le’tal had little patience. She imagined him as the sort who pondered the reports she sent and disapproved of how she and her team spent their time and the Empire’s resources.

  “I am D’khad,” he said, which Le’tal supposed was his version of a greeting.

  “And I am Karamaq,” replied the commander, stepping forward. If he was still suffering the effects of too much drink earlier in the evening, he did not show it. “I am charged with the security of this facility.”

  D’khad conducted a rapid and obvious head-to-toe inspection of Karamaq. While his expression did not change, his tone was more than sufficient to convey his disinterest. “Yes. I have reviewed the personnel roster.” Moving his gaze to Le’tal, he said, “I presume you are Doctor Le’tal, leader of this facility’s primary research initiative.”

  “That is correct,” she said. “We were not expecting guests, or else we would have made proper arrangements to receive you. Regardless, we bid you welcome.” It took every iota of self-discipline she possessed to school her features and her voice. She already disliked this Klingon.

  “I am not here to engage in useless pleasantries,” D’khad replied. “I carry with me information and special instructions from Imperial Intelligence. Most of what I have to say affects Commander Karamaq and his security detai
l, but it also impacts this facility and everyone in it. You are aware of the Federation starship currently conducting a search of the asteroid field, yes?”

  “The Enterprise,” Le’tal said. “We are aware it is seeking answers about the loss of another vessel.” She quickly recounted the incident between the first Starfleet ship and the Klingon battle cruiser and how their encountering the disruption-field generators was an accident.

  D’khad said, “I am not concerned with any of that. Of course losing one of our own warships is unfortunate, but the Empire has lost far more vessels for less noble reasons. Indeed, my superiors—and yours—view what happened as a successful test of your technology.”

  “We would have preferred a test that did not cost Klingon lives,” No’Khal replied.

  “Duty is sacrifice.” D’khad glanced to Karamaq before adding, “The warriors aboard that vessel swore their lives to the Empire. They died defending it, even if they were not aware of the circumstances responsible for their demise. Their loss will be remembered with honor.”

  For the first time since emerging from his shuttle, he began pacing a slow circuit around the cargo bay on a course that took him in the general direction of the parked scout ships. Looking to her companions for guidance or perhaps reassurance, Le’tal walked after him, with No’Khal and Karamaq following suit. Judging by his body language, Le’tal decided D’khad seemed as unimpressed with the ships as he was with their commander.

  “The information I am authorized to share with you is highly classified.” Pausing his laconic walking, D’khad turned to once more face them. “Several days ago, three spies escaped from Qo’noS. We do not yet know for certain who they are working for, but we suspect they have committed treason against the Empire by allying themselves with the Federation.”

  “Surely not.” Karamaq’s expression was one of unfettered disbelief after the courier recounted the unpleasant details of the spies’ operation on the homeworld and the extent of their activities.

  To Le’tal’s surprise, D’khad did not use that opportunity to offer a snide reply. Instead, he said, “It came as quite the shock throughout the intelligence branch, and the impacts and potential damage go all the way to the High Council itself. One of the spies had been posing as aide to Councilor Maroq. Needless to say, his future services to the Empire were deemed… unnecessary.”

  “And we are sure these spies were working for the Federation?” No’Khal asked.

  “Our suspicion is only strengthened by the knowledge that the spacecraft they stole to make their escape made its way here.” D’khad paused, eyeing Le’tal and the others with a smug expression. “So, a stolen vessel traveled here at the same time a Federation starship was in the same area, outside the normal limits of a Starfleet border-security patrol.”

  Karamaq said, “Starfleet ships have occasionally been detected in the region.” Then, under D’khad’s withering gaze, he added, “Though it is unusual, and I agree the timing is concerning.”

  “What of the battle cruiser that engaged the Starfleet vessel?” asked Le’tal. “Was its captain aware of this situation?”

  Shaking his head, D’khad replied, “No, just as he had no knowledge of your activities. So far as we are able to determine, he simply exercised his own initiative and reacted to detecting the Starfleet ship in the area. That was unfortunate. Had he acted differently, he might have contained this debacle before it could spiral out of control.” As he spoke, Le’tal once again noted the total lack of remorse about the loss of an imperial vessel, its captain and crew, but said nothing.

  “The Starfleet ship,” said No’Khal. “It was believed destroyed. Our sensors detected its warp engine overload.”

  Scowling, D’khad replied, “We must remove all doubt, one way or the other. If there were survivors, then we must determine whether the spies are among them. Apprehending them is of vital importance to the Empire.”

  “Then why is the Klingon Defense Force not sending ships better equipped to handle a situation such as this?” She gestured to her companions. “No insult intended to Commander Karamaq or his soldiers, but they are a security detail.”

  “My warriors are more than up to the task,” said Karamaq. “The honor is to serve.”

  D’khad replied, “That is good, Commander, as for the moment this responsibility lies with you. As one might imagine, this is a delicate situation for the Empire. We cannot have public disclosure of this embarrassment, and neither can we have just anyone from the military converging on this region and possibly learning of your operation here. This is, after all, still a classified Imperial Intelligence project. Ships with captains and crews who can be trusted with this information are being selected as we speak, but until they arrive, it falls to those of us already here.”

  “Assuming there are survivors and they did not retreat from the area,” Le’tal said, “where do we begin our search? They could be anywhere within the asteroid field.”

  “Long-range sensors detected nothing moving away from the region in the aftermath of the skirmish between the Endeavour and our ship. Then there is the Enterprise, here searching for anything that might explain the other vessel’s destruction. No, Doctor. If there are survivors, they are still here, somewhere. We must find them before the Enterprise does.”

  “And what of the Enterprise?” Karamaq asked. “Our escalated level of activity will surely draw their attention. It is unlikely we will be able to avoid further confrontation.”

  D’khad’s expression fell flat. “You are correct, Commander. It may be in our best interest to seize the initiative in this regard.” He turned to Le’tal. “I imagine the technology you are testing here should prove most helpful with this. Would you agree, Doctor?”

  “I would,” Le’tal replied, though she was unhappy about drawing unwanted scrutiny from the Enterprise or anyone else.

  Drawing himself to his full height, Karamaq said, “I will begin preparations for the search to begin immediately.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, the commander pivoted on his heel and walked at a brisk pace across the hangar bay. Le’tal knew it would take only moments for him to summon his security force and put them to work readying the scout ships for departure.

  “What about me and my people?” she asked. “What are we supposed to do?”

  D’khad replied, “For now, your work remains your foremost priority. My superiors are pleased with your work, but these spies and their treachery carry the potential to impact our military effectiveness in the face of our enemies. We may find ourselves seeking any available advantage in order to maintain our readiness to defend the Empire.”

  It was the answer Le’tal expected, of course. She and her people were not military officers. They possessed few if any of the skills necessary to be of use during the coming search, to say nothing of whatever action might be required should survivors from the Endeavour be found. What concerned her was the potential for her team’s work to be interrupted, disrupted, or even terminated as a consequence of whatever was about to happen beyond her facility’s boundaries. There was precious little she or her people could do about that, and she could already feel her frustration rising in the face of her apparent powerlessness. What if this search operation resulted in an escalation of the already tense relations between the Empire and the Federation? She knew the answer. In the face of strained or collapsing diplomatic efforts between the two powers, the High Council would direct imperial priorities and resources to military action as it always did when it felt there was no other viable course. Those like her and her team would be forgotten as the Klingon people became embroiled in yet another conflict.

  Le’tal could only hope the coming search was as quick as it was fruitful.

  Otherwise, she concluded, none of this will matter anyway.

  Twenty-two

  Under normal circumstances, lights flickering on a starship was sufficient cause for everyone aboard to take notice. Such an occurrence was almost always attributed to some form of
interruption in power flow to an appropriate system. Was one or more of the thousands of components that went into the construction and operation of such a complex craft in need of attention, repair, or replacement? Determining whether the cause was innocuous or the result of something more worthy of concern was for the ship’s engineering personnel, with their captain, first officer, and other interested parties wasting no time making it known they were aware of the situation and would be wanting updates.

  When it happened now, there was an immediate and visceral reaction in Atish Khatami and the handful of officers on duty in the ship’s improvised auxiliary control center. Just the lighting alone was enough to prompt such a response, but an audible pitch drop in the low, omnipresent drone of the ship’s impulse engines only served to make everyone move that much faster. Standing to one side so as not to impede any of Khatami’s people from their work, Kirk exchanged glances with Uhura before they both lunged for different workstations to see what was going on.

  “Mister Klisiewicz?” prompted Commander Katherine Stano, rising from where she and Captain Khatami were sitting at a small field table and crossing the room to the science officer.

  Standing at the console configured for his use, the young lieutenant replied, “Fluctuations in the impulse engines, Commander.” He frowned as he continued to study the readings. “It’s like it came out of nowhere. We’ve had constant monitoring of all onboard systems all along, and there was no hint of any sort of problem before now. I don’t understand it.”