STAR TREK: The Lost Era - 2298 - The Sundered
Page 11
“Did Kasrene give you any idea why Mosrene might have wanted to stop her?” Chekov asked.
“Perhaps, Commander,” Tuvok said. “But I am not certain. I do, however, know that Kasrene wanted us—that is, representatives of the Federation—to be the only recipients of the information she carried. And strangely, she also seemed to share Mosrene’s reticence about allowing the information to circulate generally with the Tholian Assembly. To do so would have precipitated the very disaster she envisioned.”
“If the information really is that sensitive, then keeping it out of the Tholian Lattice will be a neat trick,” Chapel said.
Chekov shrugged. “Not if only a few Tholians know about it, and then keep themselves sequestered from the Lattice. Maybe that’s the reason Mosrene doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to Yilskene’s ship.”
But Sulu noticed a huge problem with Mosrene’s apparent need for concealment. “There’s a very wise old proverb about secrets, Pavel. “Three can keep a conspiracy a secret—but only if two of them are dead.’ ”
“What are you saying?” Chapel wanted to know. “That I can expect more Tholians to take up space in my morgue?”
“Not necessarily. I’m saying that we might not have the luxury of waiting around until Lieutenant Tuvok’s memories return more fully before we’re forced to act.”
Aware that everyone’s eyes were upon him, Sulu came to a decision. He had served in Starfleet for far too long to believe in coincidences. Whatever it was that Kasrene had wanted the Federation to know—but had also wanted hidden from her own countrymen—had to be related to the Tholian military buildup that so concerned Starfleet Command. And to whatever alien adversary menaced the Tholians on their far frontier.
[109] So perhaps the solution to one mystery would help to solve the others.
Sulu crossed to the companel on the wall and pressed a button. “Captain Sulu to bridge.”
“Lojur here, sir.”
“Commander, how far are we from the nearest volume of interspatially unstable space?”
“Captain, are you referring to the region where the Defiant disappeared thirty years ago?”
“The very same.”
“There’s a filament of unstable space running through much of the territory claimed by the Tholians. The near end of it lies less than a parsec from our present position.”
Sulu smiled a fencer’s calculating smile. “Good. After Yilskene’s ship picks up the Tholian diplomatic party and sets out for Tholia, Mr. Lojur, I want you to lay in a course parallel to that interspatial filament. And I want you to follow it all the way to the far end of Tholian space.”
“Won’t we show up on Yilskene’s sensors if we take that heading?” Lojur asked.
“Not if we cover our tracks.”
“Sir?”
“We can create a sensor ghost by bouncing a deflector beam off the edge of the filament. That will make it appear that we’re headed back the way we came. Keep us a few dozen klicks from the filament’s edge, but don’t let us actually slip over into interspace. We’re not looking to join the Defiant, after all.”
“Aye, sir.” Lojur sounded apprehensive. Some three decades after her disappearance, the Defiant—whose personnel had slain one another while in the grip of a berserker rage caused by this region’s interspatial distortions—had quickly become the stuff of some fairly hair-raising ghost stories among Starfleet Academy’s midshipmen.
After Sulu had signed off to allow Lojur to prepare for [110] Excelsior’s course adjustment, he noticed that Chekov and Chapel appeared to be having reservations similar to Lojur’s; they looked nearly as stony-faced as the Vulcans.
“That’s a pretty dangerous course, Captain,” Chekov said. “And I’m not only talking about the chance of running into Tholian patrols.”
“Defiant,” Chapel said, almost whispering.
Sulu nodded, acknowledging his old friends’ reticence. “We’re just going to have to trust that Excelsior’s shields—and the skills of her helmsman—will keep us from sharing Defiant’s fate.”
Both Chekov and Chapel seemed satisfied with that. “I’d better whip up a theragen compound to be on the safe side,” Chapel said. “Just in case interspace starts affecting us the way it did Defiant’s crew.”
Sulu nodded yet again. He wasn’t keen on administering what was essentially a Klingon nerve agent to his crew, but he couldn’t forget how a cocktail of theragen derivative had prevented the crew of the Enterprise from plunging irretrievably into interspace-caused madness.
Addressing everyone present, he said, “Whatever dangers might await us out there, the far side of Tholian space is where we’ll find our answers. Such as exactly what the Tholians are willing to spill their own blood to keep hidden from us.”
Chapter 10
Earlier ...
Do we have proof? The question reverberated through the Diplomatic Castemoot SubLink. Fekrene [The Gold] had posed the interrogative.
We have their ship and have examined their bodies, answered Benrene [The Gray], her inter-voice bright and tinkling. Fulskene’s ship captured the invader vessel after three of our other warcraft were destroyed. But even as their defeat arose to shatter them, our warriors inflicted great damage upon the enemy.
Tosrene [The Violet] chimed before projecting into the SubLink. I have the memories of the late Fulskene and his crew from the battle. Allow me to share them.
Then they all saw it, from twelve different points of view, all similar but slightly different. The multifaceted image was of a space battle. One Tholian ship was gutted nearby, wreckage and flotsam tumbling randomly in freefall, while another was on fire, with green spikes of energy crackling across its wedge-shaped hull.
The memory played in reverse, showing four Tholian craft as they engaged the enemy ship, energy bursts and charged missiles reentering the weapons banks from which they had come. The quartet’s energy web flickered and [112] broke apart, was disrupted by blasts which now returned to the aggressor’s tubular ship, then recovered, suddenly becoming strong and cohesive. The Tholians unwove the web around the enemy ship, then faced energy blasts which answered their own volleys of firepower.
Eventually, the memories rewound to the point at which the enemy ship had entered Tholian space, apparently tumbling out of the very same OtherVoid that the sentinel ships had begun to explore in earnest during recent times.
They come intent on invasion, as have so many others before them, Fekrene [The Gold] projected.
What of their ship now? asked Elkrene [The Ruby].
Benrene’s mind-line brightened a bit. The craft of the invaders is being brought to Tholia. The invaders are being de-structured and dissected, their components analyzed and catalogued.
Could the speculations of the physicians be correct? Kasrene asked. As multiple thoughts affirmed it, Kasrene’s mind took on a darker hue. We must not allow this information into the Lattice-at-large. Halt transport of the ship and confine the thoughts of those who know the truth of this matter.
Dinrene’s alarm was almost palpable. Why should we hide such information about the aggressors? The truth will empower both defense and unity among the castes.
Such a truth will not bring a wholeness to the Lattice, Mosrene said, his response glowing turquoise in the Sub-Link. It will more likely solidify the distrust so many already feel toward the Federation.
Conflict with the Federation while we are beset by formidable adversaries from the OtherVoid will deplete the energies of the Tholian Assembly, Tosrene [The Violet] chimed.
Kasrene spoke. If we make allies of the Federation first, and bring the Assembly into harmony with its greater power, we will then have aid rather than conflict. Such an arrangement may be our only chance.
[113] But the castes will not unite to ally with the Federation if they know the truth, Mosrene’s dark thoughts rang.
Energy from Fekrene [The Gold] washed in, and the Diplomatic Castemoot SubLink fell silent. The worlds of
outside are coming to us, and we can choose to grow stronger thereby, or be shattered. I believe/know the time is now for an appeal to the Federation. Kasrene is correct.
Benrene echoed the earlier thoughts of many others. Mosrene is correct as well. And if we are to keep the truth from the Lattice-at-large, we must be aware that its implications increase the potential for conflict with the Federation. Particularly from the warrior caste.
Revelation may also breed trust, Kasrene offered serenely. The lower echelons of the warrior caste are accustomed to the Diplomatic Castemoot keeping its decisions and strategies concealed from them. But potential allies may not be so forgiving/understanding.
So do we fracture the facets of the Great Castemoot Assembly in favor of outsiders? The tones and colors that underlay Mosrene’s question were threatening.
The SubLink again went silent for a time as excerpts of the conversation—if not its most salient and sensitive facts—filtered down, out, and laterally across the complex webwork of the Tholian Lattice.
Sulu settled back into his chair just as the turbolift doors whisked open to deposit Chekov and Akaar onto the bridge.
Turning his chair to face them both, Sulu said, “Everything go smoothly?”
Chekov stepped down toward the captain’s chair, near the bridge’s center. “As well as can be expected after transporting a group of alien diplomats who see no need to speak to us any further until after they take care of their leader’s funerary rites and consult with their superiors.”
[114] “Did Mosrene agree to speak with Burgess privately?” Sulu asked.
“If he did, she’s keeping it to herself. I get the distinct impression that she’s pinned the blame for Kasrene’s death on us.”
“Shocking,” Sulu said, deadpan. She blames me, because of my assignment to monitor the Tholian war machine, he thought with more than a little rancor. As though her own loose lips had nothing to do with Mosrene’s attack on Kasrene.
Akaar had taken his post at the main tactical station, which was located to the right of Sulu’s chair. “Security crews are doing a thorough sweep of all areas that the Tholians have occupied while aboard Excelsior, in search of listening devices or signs of sabotage.”
“Good,” Sulu said, nodding. Given the clandestine nature of his own mission here, Sulu thought Akaar’s actions were appropriate and prudent.
Turning to communications, Sulu caught Rand’s eye. “Please hail Yilskene’s vessel, Janice.”
“Aye, sir.”
Moments later, the multifaceted visage of Yilskene appeared on the main viewer. Sulu began to address him. “Admiral Yilskene, I trust that your diplomatic team and their belongings have made it back to your ship safely?”
“They have. Your transmission is breaking up, Captain. Please boost your signal if you have anything further to discuss.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Sulu said, rising from his chair and looking to his left. “We seem to be having difficulty with some of our systems. I believe it may have to do with the local interphasic radiation. We’re not far from the region of interspace where our starship Defiant was lost, after all.”
“Captain, your transmission is very garbled.” Yilskene’s eyespots seemed to glow brighter, but Sulu thought this [115] might have been his own imagination at work. Did the Tholian suspect subterfuge?
“I am withdrawing Excelsior from the 15 Lyncis system to effect repairs on our systems. Please hail us when your diplomats are ready to resume their discussions with us.”
It seemed to take Yilskene a beat longer than necessary to respond. “I understand that you are withdrawing for repairs. We will contact you within a few of your diurnal cycles to discuss further diplomatic matters.”
Sulu dipped his head in a nod. “Very good, Admiral. Until then.”
The viewscreen replaced Yilskene’s image with that of his sleek flagship, cast against the star-bedecked backdrop of space. Sulu took his seat and glanced over at Rand. “Looks like your ‘interference’ worked like a charm.”
She flashed him a grin. “Piece of cake, sir. He heard just enough of what he needed to. I think those high-pitched subspace ‘whistlers’ I threw in over our transmission convinced him that he was dealing with a force of nature rather than an incredibly gifted Starfleet communications officer.”
Sulu smiled, then turned back to the center of the bridge where his helm and navigation officers awaited his orders. “Take us out, Lieutenant Asher,” he said. “And let’s make sure that everything’s coordinated with engineering, Commander Lojur.”
“Aye, sir,” the Halkan navigator said as he touched the control surfaces on his console.
Thirteen minutes later, Asher announced, “We’re out of range of Yilskene’s sensors, sir.”
Lojur tapped his console. “I detect no other ships in the area, and confirm no active sensor contact.”
Sulu toggled the comm button built into his armrest. “Chief Azleya, are we ready to switch over?”
“Affirmative, sir,” came the smooth, gregarious voice of the Denobulan chief engineer. “You need only to give the word.”
[116] “Then let’s become a Tholian ship,” Sulu said. Aside from a subtle, nearly imperceptible change in the vibration of the deck plates, nothing on the bridge was altered. But Sulu knew that Azleya and her crew had made some critical modifications to Excelsior’s warp generators. Now, anybody actively scanning the ship—or even passively examining her warp trail—would encounter only the telltale traces of a Tholian military vessel. The disguise Azleya had concocted was calculated to withstand all but the closest scrutiny.
“Take her right up to the far edge of the interspatial filament, Mr. Lojur. Don’t let us dip into it, but make best speed alongside it until we reach the region of conflict at the far edge of Tholian space.” And let’s hope this region of space doesn’t force Christine to shoot us all up with theragen just to keep us from going insane and murdering each other. A chill ascended his spine as he recalled the horrible way Defiant’s crew had died.
Enough worrying about the questions I can’t answer, Sulu told himself. It’s time to concentrate on the ones I can.
Sulu rose again and turned to Chekov. “You have the bridge, Commander. I’ll be in sickbay, checking on Tuvok.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Then I’ll look in on Ambassador Burgess,” Sulu added as he stepped into the turbolift.
The doors closed on Chekov’s silent, sympathetic, Go-with-God expression.
Tuvok sat on the biobed, doing his best to meditate in the bustle of sickbay. One orderly was still cleaning up the trauma area where Chapel and her crew had tried to save the Tholian ambassador, and being none too quiet about it.
Turning inward, he tried to find the thoughts and memories which Ambassador Kasrene had placed there. Could she have transferred part of her katra to me? He rejected the stray thought almost as quickly as it had come. No, that is not [117] logical. The concept of katra is a myth. Kasrene merely transferred some of her memory engrams to me, nothing more. I must find a way to access them.
He closed both sets of eyelids tightly. As he dug more deeply into his subconscious, the darkness was broken by flashes of color mixed with long, steady bursts of light. The discharges were random and chaotic, and Tuvok knew on some instinctive level that these were the messages from Kasrene. But how do I decipher them?
Tuvok envisioned himself as an immaterial form within the spaces of his own mind, and reached out with an imaginary hand toward the ever-changing displays of multicolored, fractally complex lights. At first, they passed through his hand, but then one stuck, as if glued there. Moments later, more colors swirled about his hand, wending their way down his arm. Then he began to see other flashes ...
... warm orange between trapezoidal structures ...
... a Tholian, still and unmoving, suddenly shattered by a blow from another Tholian, its thousands of shards commingling with crystals of every imaginable color in rolling hills construct
ed of great heaps of multiplanar gemstones ...
... Captain Sulu introducing his crew to the Tholians in the transporter room, amidst a glowing green hue ...
... vaguely humanoid figures lying on dull brown pedestals, their rough, gray skin peeled back from elongated chest cavities as Tholian doctors dissected them ...
... cool crimson fluid washing down the side of a metal wall ...
“Tuvok?”
And then, the lights fled from him, splintering into ever-tinier shards, as he felt himself being pulled out of his meditative state. With a shudder that might have been imperceptible to any but the most highly attuned Vulcan Master, Tuvok awoke. Opening his eyes, he saw Captain Sulu and Dr. Chapel regarding him with apparent concern.
[118] “Sorry to wake you, Mr. Tuvok,” Sulu said.
“I was not asleep, Captain. I was in a deep meditative state, attempting to discern what Ambassador Kasrene was trying to tell us just prior to her death.”
Sulu nodded. “Did you find anything new?”
“I found many color-intensive visual elements that were unfamiliar to me,” Tuvok said. “And when I attempted to examine them, I saw other images nested within them. I still have yet to make sense of them. However, I believe it is safe to assume that these are the specific memories the Tholian ambassador implanted in my mind.”
Chapel leaned forward and pried open Tuvok’s outer eyelids, peering intently into his pupils. Apparently not satisfied, she then began scanning him with a handheld tricorder. “Go ahead, Tuvok,” she said without looking up. “I’m just double-checking your neurological readings. Relax.”
But Tuvok felt anything but relaxed. His inability to completely access the memories Kasrene had placed into his mind had left him feeling restless and frustrated.
“What do you make of the images so far, Lieutenant?” Sulu asked quietly.
“I have yet to find any imagery that seemed specific to our current situation,” Tuvok said. “But I remain convinced that the reason behind Kasrene’s murder—and the explanation for the Tholian military buildup—remains locked within me. And I am equally certain that some tangible danger threatens both the Tholian Assembly and the Federation, and that Kasrene wanted to warn us of this.”