“I know,” said Riker as he walked away. “Matter of fact, I’m counting on it.”
* * *
The door to his ready room hissed closed and Riker took a moment to straighten his collar. He wasn’t about to let his adversary see even the smallest sign of weakness. Helek was a jackal, and she would be searching for every possible advantage she could gain.
He tapped a panel on his desk, opening the communication channel. Riker expected a screen to open, but instead a shimmering, low-bandwidth hologram appeared before him. An image of the Tal Shiar officer formed in the center of the room, her copper-colored hair in slight disarray, her pale face permanently set in a sneer. There was a trickle of green blood at the corner of her mouth, but she didn’t seem to be aware of it. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was for show.
“Riker.” She said his name like a curse. “I underestimated your tenacity. That last attack was positively Klingon in its recklessness.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It isn’t meant to be,” she said in disbelief. “Why do you do this, Terran? Why do you always interfere, showing your bleeding hearts and shouting your petty virtues at every opportunity?”
Riker’s jaw hardened. “There’s nothing petty about compassion. The Federation is built on that value.”
“You are fools. You waste your empathy on them?” Helek waved in the vague direction of the Jazari generation ship. “What does it gain you? What is the point of it?”
“It’s not about gaining something.” Riker felt disconnected from the demand. Helek didn’t seem to be able to comprehend something that wasn’t transactional in nature. “It’s about doing what is right.”
“I will tell you what is right,” she said wearily. “Those things on that ship you are protecting… They are destroyers, not innocents.”
Riker froze. Did the Romulan woman know about the true, synthetic nature of the Jazari? Was she trying to entice a confirmation from him?
“Why do you hate them so much?”
Helek eyed him. “I am Romulan. We excel at hating what threatens us. And what threatens us is everything that is not Romulan. Those abominations most of all.” She hesitated. “Do you know what they really are, Captain?”
Riker remained silent, holding his best poker face, giving her nothing back. For a moment, he tried to put himself into Helek’s mind-set, to see this situation the way that she saw it. If she or the Tal Shiar knew the Jazari secret, then they clearly saw them as a menace to be eradicated—and it shamed him to admit that there were many within Starfleet and the Federation who might agree with that.
He remembered the emotions that ran through him a year ago, after learning of the synth attack on Mars and the Utopia Planitia shipyards. Fear, for those in danger, for his friend Geordi La Forge, who had been in harm’s way; anger, at a ruthless enemy who would strike at innocent people as they worked to save others; and disbelief, unable to understand the reason for such a terrible atrocity.
Those forces, if not resisted, could act on anyone and turn them to a darker path. And if one traveled far enough down that path, there might come a point where any action—even genocide—would seem justified.
But Will Riker had spent over ten years with a synthetic being at his side, through terrible dangers and great adventures. He had shared the worst and the best of his life with his friend and colleague Data. He knew, with unwavering certainty, that just like organic beings, artificial ones had the same capacity to bring goodness into the universe, as much as they could do the opposite. The nature of a sentient being’s origin did not matter. It was the expression of that life that created light or darkness.
To abhor all because of the actions of a few was a calculation that Riker would never be able to make.
“This battle is not over,” Helek was saying. “Our vessels will keep fighting until one is cinder and ash. But there is another way.”
“I won’t let you have them,” he said firmly. “The Titan will defend the Jazari to the last man. I give you my word on that.”
“Imbecile!” Helek growled. “You have no idea what you are dealing with! There is no Jazari, there is only the lie of what they are! And the danger they represent must be expunged, before they bring doom to all life.” Then her tone shifted, becoming desperate, imploring him. “Haven’t their kind done enough to you, Riker? If only you could know the truth of this… you would stand with me. You would help me.”
Disgust welled up in him at the thought of that. “You don’t understand us at all, Major. And for that, I am deeply sorry.”
“I will make certain of it.” In an instant, Helek’s manner changed again, and the shimmering hologram flickered and distorted. She smiled thinly, and wiped the blood from her lip. “You should have guarded your ship’s systems more closely, Captain. I have many weapons at my disposal… some more subtle than others.”
An alarm tone sounded from the monitor on Riker’s desk. The screen filled with a garbled mass of digital code, the data shredding as Romulan intruder software, embedded in Helek’s hologram, invaded the Titan’s computers.
“In a matter of minutes, your ship, your weapons, will be completely under my control,” she told him as the hologram faded. “And then you will help me kill these things, whether you want to or not.” Helek became a ghost, and then vanished.
Riker held his shock in place until he was certain the communication channel was closed, then the expression fell off his face and he tapped his combadge. “Riker to Livnah.”
“Science officer here, sir. Did she take the bait?”
“Hook, line, and sinker,” he replied. “Bring Commander Vale up to speed and assemble a team.” Riker glanced out of the ready-room port, finding the Othrys where it drifted off the starboard bow. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
SIXTEEN
Lieutenant Commander East adjusted the setting on his phaser as he stepped up onto the transporter pad. “Is someone going to clue me in on how we’re going to get through their shields?”
Livnah did not look up from the transporter console, the black lines on her face twisted in concentration as she hammered in the pre-sequence coding. “Romulans are always too clever for their own good,” she said briskly. “Helek’s attempt to inject a software weapon into our systems via the holo-comm required her to maintain an open channel.”
“She tried to hack us, but that’s a two-way street.” At East’s side, Commander Vale drew her own phaser and checked on her tricorder.
“Ahhh.” Kono, the third member of the away team, bobbed her head in understanding. “So while the comm channel was open, we were using the same ploy against the Othrys! Ingenious!”
“I’m glad you approve, Ensign.” Livnah’s reply was sharp. “Unfortunately, our knowledge of Romulan systems is limited. I was only able to alter a small fragment of their core coding, changing the refresh rate of their shield harmonics.”
“That’ll be enough. Our transporter frequency matches the harmonics,” said Vale, “we pass right through and Helek is none the wiser.” She tapped her communicator. “Bridge, we’re ready to go. Tell the rest of the team to meet us at the transit site.”
“They’ll follow you in, Commander,” said the captain. “Good luck. We don’t have long before Helek figures out her virus program hasn’t done the job, so you’ll need to work fast. Riker out.”
“I should point out that if the synchrony is off by any more than a few degrees, you may materialize inside a bulkhead.” Activating the console, Livnah relayed that information with her typically dry delivery. “I’ll do my best not to kill you.”
“Wait, what?” East raised a hand, but he could already feel the tingle of the transport effect at the tips of his fingers. “Oh, shite.”
The buzzing whine of the beam enveloped him and for a timeless instant, East and the others were transformed into nonmatter; then the process reversed and a new environment appeared around him.
They were
in a metallic gray corridor somewhere on the lower tiers of the Othrys, the space lit by dim illuminators close to the floor. East jerked back a step as he realized he had beamed in unpleasantly close to a bulkhead. He took a breath of dry, warm air and felt the subtle shift in gravity, from a Starfleet norm to Romulus standard.
Kono was close by, the Kelpien’s threat ganglia writhing like nests of worms at the back of her skull. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she muttered.
“Good,” said Vale, scanning the corridor with her tricorder. “I’d be worried if you didn’t.”
East registered the hum of another beam-in as three more figures materialized a short distance away. Leading them was Lieutenant Hernandez, with two of the Jazari standing with her. East recognized Zade, but not the other alien male.
“Commander,” said Hernandez. “Mister Zade insisted on coming along, and his buddy Keret here is a technician. I figured we could use them.”
“You beamed over from the generation ship?” said Kono. “I thought matter transportation was fatal to Jazari physiology.”
Zade and Keret exchanged glances. “We… may have overstated that danger.”
“Whatever.” Vale dismissed the comment. “Hernandez, take our friends here aft and find main engineering. You’ll have to pull the plug on the warbird if things don’t go our way.” She beckoned to the security officers. “East, Kono, you’re with me. If I’m right, the brig is a few hundred meters away.” The teams split up and went their separate ways.
“So we find your man Medaka, bust him loose, get him back his ship.” It sounded simple when East laid it out like that. “But if that’s not possible, do we have a Plan B?”
Vale shrugged. “I’ve barely got a Plan A. We’re making this up as we go.”
* * *
Helek stalked across the command deck, to the secondary console where Vadrel was working. He hesitated in the middle of his work, blinking those large, watery eyes of his at her.
“The program is not responding,” he offered.
She’d dragged him up here from the laboratory to supervise the deployment of the software weapon, but his lack of progress was infuriating. The longer this mission went on, the more Helek saw Vadrel’s weaknesses as outweighing his value. He had brought her vital intelligence on the synthetics, he had even saved her life, but those things were in the past. All that mattered were results, and she needed them now.
“Make it respond,” she growled. “If we cannot take control of the Federation ship, all this will be for nothing!” Helek made an angry sweep of her hand, taking in the debris from the destroyed Tal Shiar cruisers. “Our comrades will have died for nothing!”
In reality, she cared little for the Tal Shiar operatives who had sacrificed their own lives to preserve the secrets of their cadre. Once, she might have been like them, but the Zhat Vash had given her a higher calling. They were tools—no, they were weapons—to be used in the crusade against machine life, just like she would use Riker’s ship, just like she was using Vadrel and the crew of the Othrys.
But they were failing her.
“Major, even I cannot achieve the impossible!” Exasperation finally overtook Vadrel’s fear of her, and he threw back the exhausted retort. “The intruder program you attempted to insert into the Titan’s mainframe has been contained. Captain Riker has outmaneuvered you!”
“For the second time,” muttered Maian. The veteran spoke quietly, but not so much that his words did not carry.
Helek turned on the gray-haired helmsman and drew her dagger. “I will not listen to your criticisms anymore, you old fool. I gave you every chance to show your loyalty to me, but I see you are still mired in the past, dedicated to that fool Medaka!” She advanced on him. “Are you ready to die in his name, Lieutenant?”
Maian looked toward Centurion Garn, who had already drawn his disruptor, ready to take an execution shot if Helek commanded it. “If you murder a serving crewman on the bridge of this ship, then you do it for your own cause, not in the name of the Empire.”
“My cause is the Empire’s cause.” She bit out the words.
Helek shifted the dagger in her hand, presenting the killing edge, but before she could commit to the act, the ship’s alert tocsin began to wail.
“Intruder alert,” said Sublieutenant Kort. “Message from Chief Engineer Dasix in the drive core, she reports Jazari and Starfleet invaders on the lower decks!”
“You see?” hissed Helek. “I warned Medaka. They want to kill us all.” She aimed her knife at Garn. “Centurion! Seal the bridge and secure all control systems. If they want this ship, they will have to pay dearly for it.”
“But… what about Dasix and the other crew?” Vadrel watched in shock as Garn activated the autolocks and force field that would isolate the command deck from the rest of the Othrys. “If there are intruders aboard, if they are in danger—”
“You will obey me!” she spat. “Or your lives will end like theirs.”
Helek sank into the command chair, holding the haft of her dagger to her brow. The cold, hard metal pressed into her pale flesh, and she imagined it as a channel down which her rage was flowing.
When she closed her eyes, she saw the vision of fire and destruction embedded in her memory, and she knew she was doing the right thing.
* * *
Felle’s sensitive Romulan hearing picked up the sound of metal on metal, the noise echoing down the corridor to the holding cells. He pulled his disruptor and hesitated.
The security guard’s orders had come directly from Centurion Garn, and Garn’s from Major Helek, and both had made it clear that the low-ranked uhlan was not to leave his prisoner unattended. But the door behind him was sealed tight and his charge had no way to escape. Then the sound came again, a clattering, ticking noise that irritated him unduly.
Finally, with an annoyed snort, Felle advanced down the corridor, his disruptor out and ready. The ticking noise was slowing, and a glint of gold on the deck caught his eye.
There, he saw what resembled a brooch of some kind, a golden arrowhead set spinning like a toy top against the metal flooring. A Starfleet communicator insignia. He bent and picked it up, turning it over in his fingers.
Felle reached for his own communication unit just as the ship’s internal address system began to bray a warning tone. “Intruder alert,” said an automated warning. “Security compromised.”
“They’re here!” Felle barked into his communicator. “Starfleet is here!”
“We certainly are,” said a light voice from above him.
Felle jerked back in shock, seeing a gangly, long-limbed alien with a fleshy, skull-like face suspending itself in the shadows overhead, wedged between the support spars.
The Kelpien dropped on him, and before Felle could react, Ensign Kono struck a two-handed blow to the nerve plexus clusters in his neck. The Romulan’s eyes rolled back and he passed out, collapsing in a heap.
“I’ll take that back, thank you,” said Kono, plucking her combadge from the guard’s hands and returning it to the breast of her uniform. Lieutenant Commander East and Commander Vale appeared from around the corner of the corridor, and Vale took the Romulan’s weapon as East surveyed the unconscious guard.
“Nice work,” said East. Titan’s chief of security had taken some criticism in the past for having a Kelpien on his team—considering that their species were widely considered timid and nervous sorts. But Kono proved the lie of that. If anything, she seemed eager to sample challenges that brought out her fear response, to the point that he sometimes had to rein her in.
Vale moved to the single sealed cell in the brig area, running her hand over the locking panel. She paused, throwing a scowl at the braying sound of the alert siren. “This seems promising, but we need to get it open.”
“I’ve got it.” East pulled his tricorder and set a decoder program running, using the device to broadcast a signal to overload the security seal. The panel changed color and, with a hiss, the cell doo
r retracted into the deck.
The prisoner inside came at them with a yell, brandishing a metal cup like a weapon, and East almost took a blow in the face before the man stopped short.
“Starfleet?” said Commander Medaka, raising his eyebrow in a very Vulcan manner. “Well, this is unexpected. I don’t recall inviting you aboard my ship.”
“We can leave you in there, if you’d prefer,” said Vale. She was still holding the stolen disruptor, and that didn’t escape Medaka’s notice.
The Romulan tossed the cup back into his cell. He was fatigued, and clearly the security guards had roughed him up a little, but he was unbowed. “Am I your captive now?”
“That’s not why we’re here,” said East.
“In the interests of interstellar amity, Starfleet would like to assist you in recovering your command.” Vale flipped the disruptor around in her hand and offered it to Medaka. “You may need this, sir.”
Medaka sensed her reluctance. “You find it difficult to trust me,” he noted, taking the weapon, careful not to point it anywhere near the three Starfleet officers. “But you came anyway. I thank you for that.”
Vale put aside her own misgivings. “If we don’t neutralize Helek, she’s going to kill every living thing on the generation ship and the Titan. I’d team up with Khan Noonien Singh himself if it meant stopping her.”
“I don’t know who that is,” admitted Medaka as he moved to a wall console. “So I’m going to take it as a compliment.” The Romulan’s fingers bounded from panel to panel as he tapped into the ship’s system. He made a short hissing sound. “Helek is on the command deck. She’s activated a lock-down protocol. We can’t access the turbolifts, the hatches…”
A garbled mutter of static sounded from the fallen guard’s communicator, and Kono spun toward it, her ganglia flickering wildly. “We have company!”
The Starfleet officers raised their phasers as a squad of Romulan security troopers rounded the corner of the corridor, each of them wielding heavy pulse disruptors.
The Dark Veil Page 29
