STAR TREK: The Lost Era - 2298 - The Sundered

by Michael A. Martin

  [20] Sulu felt a gnawing suspicion that an even more complicated job now lay ahead of him than simply observing, monitoring, and cataloguing the Tholian Assembly’s new weapons programs.

  Looks like I’d better keep a pretty close eye on Ambassador Burgess, too.

  Chapter 3

  After less than an hour of the required exchange of diplomatic pleasantries, Burgess, Chekov, and Akaar had shown the visiting Tholians to their specially modified quarters on Deck Eight. Satisfied that Kasrene’s diplomatic team was settling in satisfactorily—they were evidently preparing to meet again in earnest with Burgess and her party later in the day, now that the bare preliminaries were out of the way—Sulu proceeded to the bridge.

  As he stepped out of the turbolift, he looked toward the main viewer, which showed Admiral Yilskene’s long, dagger-like flagship hanging in space. Like its wedge-shaped predecessors of thirty years earlier, the vessel looked sleek and deadly, and possessed no discernible external engine nacelles. The dim illumination of its running lights revealed a hull that bore a mix of mottled hues: red, orange, yellow, and green.

  Studying the other vessel, Sulu felt as though the watchful eyes of the entire Tholian warrior caste were trained squarely upon him. Though the continued presence of the Jeb’v Tholis was no doubt comforting to the Tholian diplomats now temporarily ensconced aboard Excelsior, it was having quite the opposite effect on Sulu. He didn’t relish the thought of Yilskene’s reaction should the Tholians become [22] aware of Excelsior’s clandestine surveillance on the far reaches of Assembly space.

  Chekov rose from the captain’s chair at Sulu’s approach. Rather than take his seat, Sulu gestured toward the situation-room door at the rear of the bridge. “Pavel, I need a tactical update.” He looked up toward the science station and caught Tuvok’s eye. “I want your input, too, Lieutenant. Commander Rand, please have Lieutenant Akaar join us.”

  “Aye, sir,” Rand said.

  Followed by Chekov and Tuvok, Sulu entered the room and headed toward his customary chair, at one side of the octagonal table. The situation room was a relatively new addition to Excelsior, part of a redesign that Starfleet had begun introducing to many of Starfleet’s ships of the line in recent years. Sulu had to admit that for quick bridge-officer meetings, the small chamber was certainly handier than the full-size conference room on Deck Two. Of course, the senior staff still used the larger conference room for more formal meetings, such as the diplomatic proceedings involving Burgess’s party and the Tholian contingent; the big room had recently been outfitted with colors and decor calculated by Lieutenant Hopman to calm the Tholian delegates. The violent red-and-ocher color scheme down there made Sulu more grateful than ever to have an alternative space in which to conduct his staff meetings.

  “What is the status of our probes?” Sulu asked once Chekov and Tuvok had taken seats that placed the three men at approximately equidistant positions around the table.

  Chekov tapped some buttons on the multisided computer console that dominated the table’s center. Operating in tandem, the viewscreens immediately displayed star charts overlaid with colored graphics. “The four probe drones we launched last night have been continuously sending subspace telemetry back from deep inside Tholian space. We’re using a low-gain channel that our sensors can [23] lock onto and the Tholians’ likely can’t. Combined with the data gathered by our long-range sensors, we’ve been able to detect and triangulate on several sectors containing energy signatures from Tholian military operations.”

  “Anything conclusive on what sort of military operations?” Sulu asked.

  “Most of the energy signatures we detected are consistent with starship construction on a massive scale. We have also detected residual readings that could only have been produced by extremely powerful directed-energy weapons.”

  Sulu nodded. The science officer had confirmed the intelligence report that Sulu had received from Admiral Nogura. But he hadn’t yet explained why the Tholians were stepping up their military production.

  “The most significant fact, in my opinion,” Chekov said, “is that almost all of this activity is taking place deep inside Tholian space. Perhaps along their far frontier, away from the Federation border.”

  “I concur,” Tuvok said. “Although the Tholians are clearly developing new weaponry, it is equally evident that the Federation is not their current target.”

  Sulu leaned forward in his chair and spread his hands across the smooth tabletop. “Is there any evidence that the Tholians have deployed their new weapons in battle as yet?”

  Tuvok’s eyes widened slightly in the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. “It is still difficult to know conclusively whether the Tholians have used these weapons in actual firefights, or if we have merely detected evidence of their field tests. However, the profile of the radioactive debris the probes have thus far analyzed suggests that the former explanation is the correct one.”

  Sulu’s finger traced one of the on-screen graphics. “It appears that these sectors are barely mapped.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tuvok said. “And as you can see, they are all concentrated along what may be the far border of Tholian territory, judging from the total absence of Tholian activity [24] evident in the space beyond. No Federation ship has ever visited these regions to confirm this, however. What little information we have about the region is over seventy years old, and may therefore be somewhat unreliable,” Tuvok said. “It was recovered from the databanks of an Orion slaveship that was impounded by an Andorian vessel.”

  “So we’re not even certain if these charts are accurate?” Sulu asked.

  “We’re as certain as we can be at this point, Captain,” Chekov said, his pronunciation of Sulu’s title—“Keptin”—was still as heavily accented now as it had been for the more than three decades Sulu had known him. “So far, the sensors and probes have confirmed the Orion ship’s stellar cartographic information. But there is something else.” He tapped the buttons on the table before the screen, causing its images to shift and magnify. He pointed toward a previously unmapped volume of space, “See this region? We’ve been getting some very strange readings from here.”

  “Strange in what way?” Sulu wanted to know.

  Tuvok spoke up. “The closest analog we’ve found are the energy signatures characteristic of wormholes. But instead of being a point in space like most wormholes, this phenomenon appears to run laterally through several dozen parsecs of Tholian space, and even extends half a light-year into Federation territory. It is almost as if it were a fissure, or ‘rip’ in space, rather than a hole.”

  Sulu and Chekov exchanged a wordless glance. A look of mutual recognition passed between them.

  “Interspace,” Chekov said, an expression of distaste crossing his saturnine features. Sulu guessed that he was recalling how this same distorted region of space had driven a starship’s entire crew into a murderous frenzy. Or perhaps he was remembering how he had briefly been caught in the “ grip of that very madness himself.

  The door chimed, then slid open. Lieutenant Akaar [25] stepped into the room and at Sulu’s gesture took the largest chair, which Sulu had had specially customized for the security chiefs tall, broad physique. “Lieutenant Akaar,” the captain said. “We were just discussing the strange readings we’ve recovered from deep inside Tholian space.”

  Akaar nodded, his expression serious, as it nearly always was. “Commander Chekov and Lieutenant Tuvok have kept me apprised of the situation, Captain. I have been trying to isolate the various energy signatures and debris patterns shown in the telemetry, to ascertain for certain whether they originated from weapons tests, ship-to-ship combat, or from something else. But I have yet to reach any firm conclusion.”

  “Since you can’t offer a conclusion, I’d like your opinion,” Sulu said as he leaned back in his chair. He put his hands near his chin, steepling his fingers together.

  As uncompromisingly formal as usual, Akaar drew a deep, thoughtful breath before spea
king. “The residual energies and debris would seem to point to a conflict. But since some of the readings cannot be matched to known weaponry, my thinking is that the Tholians are facing an adversary unknown to our databanks. Perhaps it is some hostile species from further out in uncharted Tholian space. Or from beyond the Tholian Assembly entirely.”

  “Maybe they emerged from beyond the interspatial fissure Tuvok was describing,” Sulu said. Creatures from interspace would almost have to be insane by definition, Sulu thought with an inward shudder.

  “That sounds to me like a reasonable assumption,” Akaar said. “The hostiles do appear to be associated with the extradimensional rift.”

  “Regardless of their hypothetical origin point,” Tuvok said, arching an eyebrow at Akaar, “we should not immediately conclude that this new species is hostile merely because the Tholians have engaged them in battle. After all, until very recently the Tholians have been adversarial and [26] aggressive during virtually every recorded contact with Federation nationals.”

  If Akaar was offended by Tuvok’s brusque manner, he didn’t show it. He merely nodded. Sulu had known Leonard James Akaar since he was a child, and had been partly responsible for getting the physically and mentally precocious Capellan into Starfleet Academy during the lad’s hot-headed early teens. Sulu knew well how hard the exiled High Teer of the Ten Tribes of Capella had worked over the years to keep his volatile temper in check.

  Akaar’s response to Tuvok was slow and deliberate. “The reason it seems logical to think that the aggressors might be someone other than the Tholians,” Akaar said, “is that the energy traces are all in Tholian territory, as is almost all of the detectable debris. If the Tholians were chasing someone out of the region, most of the debris and energy residue would likely lie beyond their known borders. If these traces are evidence of conflict, it seems very likely that the Tholians received the worst of it.”

  “Perhaps that’s the entire reason they’re courting the Federation now,” Chekov said. “If the Tholians are facing a foe with more firepower than they have, they may want to strike a military alliance with us. After all, who else can help them now? The Romulans and the Klingons are both too far away for the Tholians to turn to.”

  Sulu nodded, agreeing that this was certainly a likely scenario. “And even if the Klingons were the Tholians’ next-door neighbors, they’re still rebuilding their homeworld after the Praxis explosion. They wouldn’t be able to spare the resources for a military pact with the Tholians.”

  “Exactly,” Chekov said. “Who besides us might have the strength to help the Tholians drive off a powerful new foe?”

  “There is another possibility,” Tuvok said, cocking an eyebrow upward. “We know that the Tholian Assembly’s [27] technology has not matured at the same rate as has that of many cultures within the Federation.”

  “Maybe that’s the price they pay for being aggressive and xenophobic,” Chekov said, almost interrupting. “They’re not sharing technology or much of anything else with other societies. Why should anyone share with them?”

  Looking almost annoyed by the interjection, Tuvok continued. “Despite the offensive capabilities of the Tholians—including their renowned energy-snares—it seems likely that they may merely want to gain access to more powerful weapons technology than they currently possess. That way, they might fortify their defenses without having to place their trust in an ally. It would certainly fit the overall pattern of xenophobic behavior the Tholians have always exhibited toward humanoid species.”

  Sulu had already considered that possibility, but had decided he didn’t like the direction in which it led him. “Are you suggesting that the Tholian delegation is actually here to steal our technology, Mr. Tuvok?”

  “Not necessarily, Captain. But it might be prudent to have security watch the delegates extremely closely. They may hope to be ... ‘inspired’ by technology they see on the ship.”

  Sulu looked over at Chekov and Akaar, who seemed to agree. Perhaps Tuvok wasn’t merely being paranoid. “All right. Let’s postpone the scheduled tour of the engineering section. And I want security to keep the Tholians under close watch.”

  Tuvok seemed taken aback. “Captain, I trust you’re not suggesting that we violate their privileged status as visiting diplomats.”

  Save me from Vulcan literalism, Sulu thought, watching the horrified expressions on the faces of both Chekov and Akaar. Had any member of his crew other than Tuvok questioned him in this manner, Sulu would have put him on report.

  “I didn’t say I wanted their rooms bugged, Lieutenant,” [28] Sulu said. “But I also don’t want them scanning our ship’s systems, even passively.”

  “Technology transfer protocols will be in full force, Captain,” Chekov said.

  “My people will watch them,” Akaar said. “Without offending them or interfering with their diplomatic duties, of course. With your permission, I would like to post security crews at or near the diplomatic meetings with the Tholians.”

  “It would also be a good idea to keep an eye out for incoming Tholian ships,” Chekov said. “We don’t want to find ourselves suddenly outnumbered out here.”

  “I agree,” said Akaar. “If the Tholian military really does intend to misappropriate our technology, then it might attempt to do so by hijacking Excelsior. And what better way to accomplish that than to place its agents aboard in the guise of diplomats?”

  Chekov made a sour face. “If that’s the case, then the Tholians could easily manufacture some slight in protocol on our part, or even claim we took aggressive action against them. That would give them their pretext to attack us. Starfleet Command would want to retaliate, but the Federation Council might be a lot more cautious if a Tholian attack could somehow be blamed on us.”

  Sulu nodded gravely. Overcautious though he might be, his old friend was entirely right. “I hate to give so much credence to negative speculation, but it’s true that we have no reason to trust the Tholians yet. So let’s be on our guard. Implement Class Four security measures, but be discreet about them. Only those with an operational need to know should be given the details. And we certainly don’t want to involve Ambassador Burgess in any fashion until we absolutely have to.”

  “Captain, if I may make an observation?” Tuvok asked, though he barely waited for Sulu to blink before forging ahead. “We still have no solid evidence that the Tholians are harboring any hidden agenda against us. And if they are [29] being attacked by an outside force—and are attempting to forge an alliance with the Federation because of that—it would hardly be the first time that such actions have been taken.”

  “So you’re saying that we should keep an open mind toward the Tholians,” Sulu said. “I agree. But we have to take all reasonable precautions as well. We have no reason to trust them, and every reason to think that something may be going on out on their frontier that they’re trying to conceal from us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tuvok said, nodding. “Just as we are keeping secret the fact that we have deployed probes into their sovereign space. If they discover this, then they will have no reason to trust us either. In fact, our launch of those drones may give them a legitimate reason to attack us, should they be seeking one.”

  Though Sulu found Vulcan logic and brainpower an indispensable resource, he had to admit that they could sometimes be annoying. “I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant.” Sulu cast a steely glance around the room, then rose to signal that the meeting was now at an end. “Again, gentlemen, all information about Excelsior’s surveillance activities is to be distributed strictly on a need-to-know basis. Dismissed.”

  He wished his orders from Nogura would permit him to explain and justify his actions further. Unfortunately, they didn’t.

  Alone in her quarters, Burgess was annoyed when one of her aides interrupted her in the midst of recording her journal. Then she saw the message disk in his hand and heard his explanation that it had just been received via subspace burst, directly from the highest level
s of the Diplomatic Directorate in the Hague, on Earth.

  The message, the aide had said, was for her eyes only.

  After settling into a chair, she decrypted and played the message on her terminal. Afterward, she merely stared in numb disbelief at the screen, which had gone blank except [30] for the Federation’s Earth-and-olive-branch symbol. It took her several minutes to regain her composure enough to trust her voice not to break. But anger still burned intensely within her.

  She rose, crossed to the companel, and pressed the button. “Captain Sulu, this is Aidan Burgess. I need to speak with you. Immediately.”

  Lieutenant Commander Lojur looked up from his meal of steamed vegetables when he heard the mess hall door open. He smiled as Tuvok and Akaar entered and approached the table.

  “I see something’s kept you both busy,” Lojur said.

  Lojur watched as his two laconic friends exchanged blank looks that might have meant anything.

  “We were ... detained,” Akaar said finally before moving toward one of the food slots.

  Tuvok merely took a seat directly across the table from Lojur, without bothering to get any food for himself. Although the Vulcan always consumed sparingly at lunch, he usually ate or drank something.

  “Is anything wrong?” Lojur said.

  Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “Not at all, Commander.” He glanced around the room. Other than Akaar, who stood at the food slot, and the few other officers and other personnel eating and milling about on the other side of the room, they were essentially alone.

  “It is unusual for you to have lunch by yourself, is it not?” Tuvok asked.

  Lojur smiled. “I’m not alone.” My two closest friends are here with me. A moment later, Akaar took a seat beside Tuvok, his tray weighed down with some sort of gravy-covered pastry.

  “Where is Shandra?” Akaar said, speaking carefully before taking a bite of his meal.