by Dayton Ward
“Such a waste,” sh’Thalis said, shaking her head as she continued to pace. Picard had come to realize that this was the way in which the presider released pent-up emotion, rather than directing her anger toward an undeserving subordinate or an inanimate object. “Do those fools not realize what they’re doing when they allow something like this to occur? With everything that’s happened to us, and with the problems we’re still facing, is turning on one another really a viable solution for anyone who’s not insane?”
Allowing her a moment to gather her composure, Picard exchanged glances with Geordi La Forge and Commander th’Hadik, both of whom stood silent. Given what both men had come to say, the captain figured that any control sh’Thalis might have over her emotional state would be severely tested in the coming minutes.
“Presider,” Picard said, “with all that’s happened, I think perhaps it may be prudent to reconsider canceling the conference.”
Sh’Thalis stopped her pacing, directing a withering stare at Picard. “Is that what you think we should do?” The anger behind her words was palpable.
“There is the safety of the attendees to consider,” he replied. “Though we were able to control the situation inside the Enclave chamber, we have exposed several vulnerabilities in our security. If the Treishya or some other group attempts another such scenario, we cannot guarantee that there won’t be additional loss of innocent lives.”
Frowning, sh’Thalis gestured toward La Forge. “Commander, I thought you reported that you had discovered the culprit responsible for breaching your computer network and overriding your security protocols.”
La Forge looked first to Picard, who nodded for him to proceed, before replying, “One of the intruders was carrying a portable computer, which, from what we can tell, was used to access our secure optical data network, using credentials he forged. Where he got the information necessary to craft such access and then employ it from an outside interface is something we haven’t figured out yet.”
“But you’ve been able to close that breach, yes?” sh’Thalis asked. “That point of access is no longer viable, is it?”
The chief engineer nodded. “Correct, Presider. The person who did this was an expert in computer systems, and he managed to defeat our network security. Further, he did it in such a way that we had no hint someone else was in our system. Still, the fact that he did it from an outside point of entry worked in our favor. Bouncing our system and resetting its encryption scheme was enough to cut him out, at least for the few minutes that passed before he was taken into custody.”
“Mr. La Forge,” Picard said, “What are the chances such a breach could be repeated?”
Pausing as though to consider the question, La Forge replied, “If someone’s that good, I suppose they could get past any protection schemes we put up. Resetting our system was a temporary fix, but I’ve got computer techs on the Enterprise working up something more permanent right now. They’re adding new layers of encryption and authentication, and the only way someone should be able to get inside our system from now on is if they’re a member of our crew.” He shrugged, adding, “And then only if they’re one of the less than thirty people with the proper authorization codes and the expertise to use them. If someone tries another infiltration from an outside terminal, the new schemes should trap them and help us trace their location.”
“That is but one part of the equation,” said Commander th’Hadik, speaking for the first time since arriving in the presider’s office. “We are vulnerable from a personnel standpoint, as well.”
Sh’Thalis regarded him with unabashed confusion. “Please elaborate, Commander.”
The burly Andorian stepped forward, his glossy black leather uniform stretched taut over his imposing, muscled physique. “We inventoried and accounted for all weapons issued to our security details. However, the disruptor carried by the intruder came from the reserve arsenal we have on the complex grounds.”
“Which explains how he had a functioning weapon even with our inhibitor systems in place,” La Forge said.
Th’Hadik nodded. “Our working theory is that someone here provided the weapon to him. We checked the arsenal’s access log, but there is no record of an unscheduled entry.”
“Computer records can be forged,” Picard said.
“Indeed,” the Andorian replied. “And on that point, we also conducted identity verifications on everyone we took into custody, to include retinal scans. One of those arrested has a profile in the parliament’s security system. His clearance grants him access throughout the compound, but upon further investigation the computer record appears to have been fabricated.”
“How is that possible?” sh’Thalis asked, her mouth all but falling open in shock.
Shaking his head, th’Hadik replied, “In theory, it should not be possible. Our computer networks carry multipoint encryption and authentication protocols, which can only be issued by authorized personnel. All requests to create access for anyone are channeled through a central office charged with overseeing data-network security. We attempted to ascertain the identity of the security officer who created the access credentials used by the intruder, and we discovered that the access ID attached to the record in question was itself a forgery.” He paused, clearing his throat. “The author of that record is listed as being you, Presider.”
The revelation caught everyone in the room by surprise. “What?” sh’Thalis asked, making no attempt to hide her shock. “That makes absolutely no sense. I don’t even use a computer. I leave all of that to Loqnara.” She gestured toward ch’Birane, who now looked every bit as anxious as the presider herself.
Th’Hadik nodded. “That’s correct, and he does not possess the requisite authorization or expertise to create such an access entity. No, it appears that someone else on staff at the compound is responsible.”
“You’re suggesting the Treishya, or another group, has contacts or sympathizers within the presider’s administration?” Picard asked.
“I am not suggesting it, Captain,” the Andorian countered. “I’m stating it as a point of incontrovertible fact. It’s the only reasonable explanation that fits all of the information known to us. To do what this person accomplished requires a specialized level of technical acumen as well as knowledge of how our system is deployed, including security protocols. We’ve suspected the possibility of Treishya supporters or sympathizers within our government for some time, but law-enforcement agencies have had no success ascertaining the identities of anyone who might have such an affiliation.”
La Forge said, “The level of expertise you’re talking about can’t be held by a large number of people, even if you count the entire data-systems and network-security staff.”
“That is our contention, as well,” th’Hadik replied, nodding. “We have intensified our efforts to compile a list of likely suspects, but it is a time-consuming affair.”
“Presider,” Picard said, “with this new information, I strongly urge you to cancel the conference, or at least move it to a safer venue, such as the Enterprise.”
Sh’Thalis shook her head. “We’ve been over this, Captain. I cannot capitulate to these extremists. To do so only legitimizes their position, and weakens my authority. How can I command respect as the leader of my people if I do the Treishya’s bidding? What will be their next demand, and what if I then refuse? I cannot believe that my failing to comply won’t have consequences.”
“At least wait awhile before resuming the schedule,” La Forge said. “Give my people time to retrofit the computer security and harden our defenses.”
Th’Hadik added, “Such a delay would also allow us further time to seek out anyone in the administration who may be aiding the Treishya.”
After a moment, sh’Thalis nodded. “Very well. That is a sensible course.”
Still standing behind her near the desk, Loqnara ch’Birane said, “Presider, you have adversaries in parliament who will take advantage of this decision and use it to por
tray you as indecisive and perhaps even cowardly, waiting for Starfleet to come to your aid rather than boldly standing up to those who would seek to undermine your noble efforts.”
“When they assume responsibility for the safety of innocent bystanders,” sh’Thalis replied, “then their observations and portrayals will mean a great deal more to me than they do today.” To Picard and La Forge, she said, “Any assistance you can provide, as always, is greatly appreciated.” Turning to th’Hadik, she added, “If we have traitors in our midst, Commander, I want them found.”
The Andorian nodded. “Understood, Presider.”
Picard was about to offer th’Hadik any personnel or other support from the Enterprise that the commander might desire in order to assist in the search efforts, when he was interrupted by the sound of his combadge beeping and the voice of Commander Worf.
“Enterprise to Captain Picard.”
Tapping his communicator, the captain replied, “Picard here. What is it, Number One?”
The Klingon’s response came in a series of terse, clipped words, belying his anxiety even as he endeavored to retain his professional bearing. “Sir, long-range sensors have detected the approach of a vessel into the system and on a course for Andor. It’s broadcasting a hail on all frequencies. Communications confirms that the hail is intended for the Enterprise.”
His brow furrowing as he digested this latest news, Picard asked, “Have you identified the ship? Does it appear to pose a threat?”
“The vessel appears to be unarmed, sir,” the first officer replied, “but sensors have identified it as being Tholian in origin.”
“Tholian?” Picard repeated. “Are you certain?”
Worf replied, “Affirmative. If it maintains its present course, it should enter standard orbit of Andor in less than two hours.”
With rare exceptions, which were detailed in Picard’s intelligence briefings, the Tholians had become all but invisible since forming their controversial, highly publicized allegiance with the other key stakeholders of the Typhon Pact. In the year that had passed since the forming of the unlikely consortium, the governments representing the Pact had kept mostly to themselves, though intelligence reports theorized that their stated intentions to work together for the betterment of their respective peoples was little more than a hopeful fantasy. The organization’s true goals remained as shrouded in mystery as its members.
So, why here? Why now?
Picard suspected he would find the answers to such questions anything but pleasant.
31
“The Tholian vessel has dropped out of warp, Commander, and is now on course to assume standard orbit.”
“Sensors,” Worf said, glancing to the tactical station. “Conduct a full sweep. Confirm that they’re unarmed.”
At the tactical station, Ensign Abigail Balidemaj did not look up from her console as she replied, “Aye, sir.” Her fingers moved with impressive speed over the workstation’s rows of illuminated controls, and several of the display monitors arrayed before her jumped in response to her queries. “Sensors are detecting no signs of any weapons systems, Commander. According to the recognition database, the ship appears to be a diplomatic courier vessel. They do have deflector shields, but they are currently inoperative.”
“Diplomatic?” asked T’ryssa Chen, who at Worf’s direction had taken the seat to the right of the captain’s chair and normally reserved for the first officer. “They sent someone to talk? I don’t recall the Tholians ever being particularly chatty. They make the Klingons sound like Bolians.”
Glaring at the outspoken lieutenant from the corner of his eye, Worf nevertheless grunted in agreement. His own infrequent encounters with the notoriously standoffish race lent credence to Chen’s observations. The original hail from the ship, directed at the Enterprise, had been nothing more than an automated message notifying the starship of its peaceful intentions and requesting to enter orbit above Andor. After relaying this information to Captain Picard, who in turn had consulted with Presider sh’Thalis, Worf had dispatched a response to the Tholian vessel conveying the presider’s permission for the ship to proceed with its approach. The message had not been answered, nor had any further hails or requests for dialogue been received, despite repeated attempts by Balidemaj to establish communications.
Typical Tholian obstinence, the first officer conceded.
“Put the ship on-screen,” Worf ordered, and a moment later the image on the main viewer of Andor from high orbit changed to a display of the Tholian vessel against a backdrop of black space. Unlike warp-capable ships constructed by other races, this vessel showed no distinct nacelles or other similar design concepts. Everything required for the ship’s propulsion system was carried within the smooth lines of its angular, arrowhead design.
“They’ve opened a hailing frequency,” Balidemaj called out from her station. “Standard linguacode greeting and a request for an open channel.”
“Establish communications,” Worf ordered.
The tactical officer turned in her seat, her expression one of confusion. “The message isn’t being sent to us, sir. It’s being directed at Andor, though we can certainly pick it up.”
Perplexed, Worf scowled as he attempted to discern what the Tholian vessel might be planning. “Open a channel.” A moment later, the image on the viewscreen shifted once again, this time to the silhouette of a Tholian, the reddish hue of its crystalline body dominating a broad-spectrum background. The image at first appeared to be wavering, and it took Worf an extra moment to remember that this actually was an indicator of the extreme heat aboard the alien vessel, in keeping with Tholian environmental requirements.
“People of Andor,” it said, the intercom system’s universal translator rendering the Tholian’s speech into a high-pitched, almost feminine voice, “I am Ambassador Nreskene, special diplomatic envoy of the Tholian Assembly. On behalf of my people, I bring you greetings, and my assurance that our presence here is peaceful.”
“Do Tholians lie?” Chen asked.
Considering the question, Worf shook his head. “Actually, they don’t. At least, they’re not known for employing deception.” Of course, it was entirely possible that the Tholians, through their close association with certain other Typhon Pact member states, had acquired some new skills and habits.
“I come to you today with information of great importance to all your citizens,” Nreskene continued. “It is my intention to be heard by everyone, not simply your government or military leaders, so that you may understand the sincerity with which we are reaching out to you. While our reputation of being intolerant with respect to other species is well deserved, it is our intention to establish a new era of communications with our interstellar neighbors. We realize that many will view this with great suspicion, which is why I am here today.”
Shifting in his seat, Worf said, “Ensign Balidemaj, is this signal being received at the parliament complex?”
The young woman nodded. “Yes, sir. As the ambassador stated, it’s being relayed through all newsnet broadcasts across Andor.”
On the viewer, Nreskene said, “For some time, we have known about the difficulties facing the Andorian people. However, it is only recently—within the past few years, according to Federation standard measurements—that we have become aware of information which we believe may be of use to Andor in finding a possible solution for your dilemma. To that end, we have contacted one of the leading representatives of your scientific community, Professor Marthrossi zh’Thiin, who has already devoted significant time and effort toward researching the Andorian reproductive crisis. Indeed, having been kept apprised of the professor’s progress using the information we furnished to her, we are delighted to see that the work she has performed to this point holds such great promise.”
“What is he talking about?” Chen asked. Worf turned to her, realizing that the puzzled look with which she regarded him likely matched his own.
“It appears,” he said, “that Pro
fessor zh’Thiin, either knowingly or unknowingly, has benefited from collusion with Tholian sources.” Though no open state of warfare currently existed between the Federation and the Tholian Assembly, the latter party’s coalition with the Typhon Pact and its other member states, all of whom had some history of aggression with the Federation, was a matter of no small concern.
“As for the information we provided,” Nreskene said, “it will interest many to know that it has actually been in our possession for quite some time, though it was suppressed by our leadership caste more than a century ago, not long after the discovery of an astonishing form of artificially engineered genetic code. It was found on a world near our territorial boundaries by a Starfleet research vessel, and was later determined to have been created by an advanced yet extinct race of beings calling themselves the Shedai.”
Worf frowned upon hearing the name. It was familiar, though he could not recall where he had seen or heard it. Turning to the science station, he said, “Lieutenant Elfiki, search the computer banks for any mention of this Shedai race, along with any coordinating references to Starfleet research missions.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the science officer, already turning to the task at her workstation.
“They’ve been dead for millennia,” Chen said, “but the Tholians share an ancestral link with them.” As Worf cast a questioning glare in her direction, she added, “I read about them while doing research on various Starfleet first-contact missions.”
Nreskene said, “The Shedai once ruled a vast empire, which included subjugating our ancestors. That period of our history is largely unrecorded, but we do know that their empire fell. It was believed that they had all perished, but a few remnants of their civilization survived, and were found along with this artificial genetic code. Though this discovery was made so long ago, we have only just begun to explore its potential ourselves, owing to the shroud of security in which it was concealed. It did not take us long to realize the unique eugenic properties the genetic code possessed, and several of our scientists even postulated that such potential might well assist in the curing or even prevention of biological anomalies such as that affecting the Andorian people.”