As T’Jul had climbed up through the ranks, some of the resistance to her had come from a single source—though she could hardly claim uniqueness on that front. The Tal Shiar tasked many people, both inside and outside the Fleet. Their representatives often traveled aboard starships as visible components of some particular mission, but they also sometimes slinked onto a vessel, promoting some mysterious agenda of the secretive intelligence agency. Tal Shiar agents could be chillingly calculating and stunningly adept at maneuvering matériel into places, and personnel into actions, for the purpose of achieving specific aims, but they could just as often be petty tyrants whose heavy-fisted meddling in ship operations betrayed their affiliation and rattled the crew. Although Tomalak had been assigned to Eletrix under the guise of liaison to the Federation officers, he had arrived with the imprimatur of Admiral Vellon, a known minion of the Tal Shiar. Upon his boarding, Tomalak also revealed to T’Jul a potential mission profile wildly different from the official version. All of that, together with her observations of Tomalak’s blunt behavior—particularly after receipt of the coded message from Ren Fejin—convinced T’Jul that he acted on behalf of the Tal Shiar. And for that alone, he earned her contempt.
“Yes, the Jem’Hadar,” T’Jul said, agreeing with Tomalak while resisting the desire to comment on the mediocrity of his analytical abilities. “But if the Ren Fejin battled Dominion forces, then where are those forces?”
“Clearly the Breen vanquished their foes,” Tomalak said.
“That vessel?” said T’Jul, gesturing toward the viewscreen, unable to conceal her incredulity at Tomalak’s suggestion. “The Ren Fejin is quite obviously designed for a different purpose than warfare.” Irked by Tomalak’s useless contributions to their scrutiny of the situation, but also wanting to avoid pushing him too far, the commander turned to another source for validation of her assessment. “What do you think, Kazren?”
The Breen turned to her. The horizontal green light of his helmet, which hinted at the location of his eyes beneath, and the muzzle that evoked the impression of a protruding nose and jaws, masked a being of a different form than the environmental suit implied. Back when she had served aboard Dekkona as executive officer, T’Jul had helped retrieve Kazren from Starfleet’s Utopia Planitia station—and she had seen him without his environmental suit. He looked like nothing she had expected, and not much like his Breen armor suggested, and that recollection helped fuel her suspicions about the present set of circumstances.
“The possibility of the Ren Fejin crew succeeding in their endeavors,” Kazren said in his digitally modified speech, “was completely predicated upon the stealth they gained from employing the phasing cloak recently installed on their ship.”
“And the advantage of that stealth has obviously vanished,” T’Jul said. “So even if the Ren Fejin somehow managed to defeat the Jem’Hadar forces that attacked it, where are their reinforcements? The message sent by Master Beld stated that the Dominion defended the shipyard at Overne Three with three dozen ships.”
“Commander,” Sublieutenant Vorsat said from the sensor panel, “midrange sensors do confirm more than thirty Jem’Hadar warships orbiting the planet.”
“Perhaps the Jem’Hadar were willing to send only one or two vessels against a single intruder in the system,” Tomalak suggested, “and the remainder are committed to protecting the shipyard at close range.”
T’Jul opted not to address the several flaws in Tomalak’s argument. Instead, she rose to her feet and reached to her left. Guiding the Breen by the elbow of his environmental suit, she led him off to the port side of the bridge, away from the rest of her crew and the liaison. While she knew what Kazren—and presumably all Breen—looked like beneath the cover of his armor, she doubted that anybody else on the bridge did. The Breen seemed to hide their physical nature zealously, even to the point of misdirection. Indeed, most people seemed to think that the Breen required very cold temperatures in order to survive, something that T’Jul, by virtue of her experience with Kazren, knew to be patently untrue.
Recognizing the cultural choice of the Breen to conceal themselves—to hide their very forms—T’Jul had pulled Kazren away in order to respect that choice. She didn’t know if he would under any circumstances answer the question she wanted to ask, but she thought it more likely if she did so in private. “Kazren,” she said, leaning in close to his helmet, her voice low, “is there a way that you can use sensors to determine the identity of those who are wearing Breen armor?”
Kazren did not answer immediately, but he regarded her—or at least he gave the impression of doing so, inclining the front of his helmet in her direction. Finally, he said, “I understand why you are asking this.” Unexpectedly, he reduced his electronically encoded voice in volume. “I can do what you ask, but I request privacy when I do so, and no recording of my methods.”
“You have my word,” T’Jul said, and she meant it. Kazren peered across the bridge at Tomalak, as though deciding whether or not to trust him. Again speaking in a voice meant only for the Breen, T’Jul said, “I will keep Tomalak away.”
Kazren nodded, and T’Jul immediately looked over to the sensor panel. “Sublieutenant Vorsat, attend me,” she said. T’Jul walked back over to her command chair, where Vorsat met her. As Kazren headed for the sensor panel, T’Jul addressed the sublieutenant. “Have you been monitoring the communications block?”
“Yes, Commander, as you ordered,” said Vorsat. “All functions continue to perform at optimal levels.”
Once Eletrix had received the Ren Fejin crew’s encrypted request to implement Tomalak’s mission, T’Jul had given her crew the new orders. Utilizing materials and equipment left on various worlds in the Gamma Quadrant by Typhon Pact civilian craft, the crew of Eletrix staged the crash of their own vessel, with the loss of all hands. After transmitting a ragged distress call to Enterprise, they then headed, under cloak and at high warp, for the Dominion. Along the way, they deposited a satellite on the edge of the Idran system. Hidden by its own cloak, the satellite blocked all transmissions to and from the nearby Federation comm station, which facilitated trans-wormhole communications with Deep Space 9, and beyond it, with the rest of the Federation.
With the communications block in place, T’Jul could be sure that the Enterprise crew would not notify Starfleet and the UFP president about the apparent loss of Eletrix, which might have triggered a state of high alert on DS9. Likewise, depending on what ultimately transpired at Overne III, the Dominion could not warn the Federation. According to Tomalak, the Romulan Empire’s operative aboard Deep Space 9—Doubtless a member of the Tal Shiar, T’Jul thought—indicated that, as long as Typhon Pact ships traveled within the Gamma Quadrant, calls to high alert on DS9 would lead to Starfleet personnel screening for cloaked vessels traveling through the Bajoran wormhole. Tomalak’s superiors wanted to avoid detection of Eletrix as it returned through the wormhole in order to avert an interstellar incident, while T’Jul wanted to avoid putting the lives of her crew at risk.
“Very good, Sublieutenant,” said T’Jul, acknowledging Vorsat’s report on the communications block. “Is there any means of determining whether the Jem’Hadar penetrated the phase cloak?”
“No, Commander, not based on the data we have available to us,” Vorsat said. “But since we appear to have gone undetected, that is reason to believe that either the phasing cloak aboard the Ren Fejin failed, or that its crew did something that alerted the Jem’Hadar to their presence.”
T’Jul agreed with the sublieutenant’s assessment. Since the Ren Fejin crew had mentioned nothing of an assault on their ship, it followed that the attack had taken place after they’d sent their message. T’Jul further surmised that the transmission itself may have betrayed Ren Fejin’s presence and location to the Jem’Hadar.
The commander saw Kazren finish working at the sensor panel. As he walked toward her, she dismissed Vorsat back to his duty. When Kazren reached the command chair, he addressed T’Jul.
“There are thirteen active Breen environmental suits on the Ren Fejin, as well as one set of Romulan life signs,” he said, confirming Vorsat’s earlier findings. “Of the thirteen environmental suits, only four are worn by actual Breen.”
T’Jul nodded, her suspicions vindicated. “And the other nine sets of Breen armor are in use by Jem’Hadar,” she said. The crew of Ren Fejin had not avoided the destruction of their vessel because they had somehow beaten back an attack by the Jem’Hadar; the Dominion forces intended to use the Breen ship to lure the recipient of the Ren Fejin crew’s message: Eletrix.
“Not nine Jem’Hadar,” said Kazren. “Eight. The final suit is being worn by a Changeling.”
“A Founder?” said T’Jul, startled. The news unsettled her as well. She took a step back and sat down in her command chair. The Jem’Hadar surely would not protect a Founder with only eight soldiers, which meant that they likely kept Ren Fejin under surveillance, with a much greater force at the ready. For a moment, T’Jul thought that would complicate any attempt to help the crew of the Breen vessel—or what remained of them—to complete their mission. But then she realized how she could turn the presence of the Founder to her advantage.
She stood up and quickly headed for the turbolift. “Tomalak, Kazren, come with me,” she said.
Trok leaned against a panel in the corner of the Ren Fejin bridge, cowering. Despite having his environmental suit returned to him, he felt miserable. He had no idea how long it had been since Master Beld had transmitted the message that had revealed the Breen privateer to the Jem’Hadar, or even how long it had been since the Changeling—Not a Founder, he reminded himself in a panic—had arrived to join the boarding party. He didn’t know how many of the Breen crew had survived the Jem’Hadar attack and commandeering of the ship; Laas had told Trok that only he remained, but Trok had seen at least one Paclu donning his gear. He’d also seen a Jem’Hadar soldier fitting himself into a Breen environmental suit.
Joralis Kinn stood on the other side of the bridge from Trok. The Romulan appeared physically fit, with no bruises on his flesh or other visible injuries, but his eyes looked vacant. Trok wondered briefly what Laas had done to Kinn, but the thought only served to unnerve Trok even more.
Gazing around the bridge from within the familiar confines of his helmet, Trok observed the other five Breen present. Or whoever wore the five sets of Breen armor, he thought. He could not tell with certainty, but based upon their postures, Trok thought that five Jem’Hadar soldiers stood on the bridge.
All of them had waited there for at least half a day, and that time followed other similar days. From time to time, Trok would be escorted to his cabin, where he could eat and sleep and clean himself, but mostly he waited on the bridge or in engineering. For what, he did not know, but he suspected that the Changeling and the Jem’Hadar employed Ren Fejin—as well as Breen environmental suits—as bait for the Romulan starship Master Beld had attempted to contact. With what little he knew of that feature of the operation, Trok could not even conjecture when—or even if—help would arrive.
Trok could imagine, though, the sort of reception that the Romulan crew would receive from the disguised Jem’Hadar. Once the—
Something shifted in Trok’s field of vision. For an instant, he thought he might have imagined it, but then one of the other “Breen” turned his helmet sharply, as though he had seen something unexpected just off to the side. Suddenly, the bridge began to glitter and throb, quickly softening into nebulous patches of bluish green. Everything in the room retained its shape, but lost its color and texture, replaced by the pulsing blue-green smudges.
For the first time in he didn’t know how long, Trok felt hope.
For day after day down on Overne III, Joralis Kinn had utilized the phasing cloak mounted in Ren Fejin to allow at least a part of the ship to travel essentially through the roofs and walls of the industrial plants. If the entire hull fit within a building, Trok could just open a hatch and climb out of the uncloaked vessel. If not all of the ship fit, then Trok would mount the phase-transition stage and be uncloaked himself, returning to an unphased state inside the building he wanted to examine.
So Trok recognized the effect of entering and exiting a phase-cloaked ship.
A moment later, the fluid scraps of blue-green focused themselves into shapes once more, but different shapes than those of the Ren Fejin bridge. He saw rods and mesh surfaces, and beyond them, the forms of humanoids. When the colors paled, Trok saw a number of uniformed Romulans, and one Breen—a true Breen, he hoped.
Trok had just enough time to see the weapons leveled in his direction before several bright-green streaks flashed across the room. One struck him directly in the chest. He felt pain, but, after all that he’d recently been through, no sense of surprise.
He was unconscious before he collapsed to the deck.
T’Jul watched as two of her security officers led the shape-shifter into a conference room aboard Eletrix. They stopped at one end of the large table that sat in the center of the space. Another half-dozen of T’Jul’s crew ringed the room, all of them with weapons drawn. The commander herself stood at the other end of the table, with Tomalak and Joralis Kinn to her right, and Kazren and Trok to her left.
T’Jul raised her arms and made a quick parting motion with her hands. The two security officers each released their hold on the shape-shifter and stepped away from him. “I am Commander Orventa T’Jul of the Romulan Imperial Fleet,” she said. “You are aboard the vessel Eletrix.”
The Changeling said nothing. He possessed an oddly smooth face, though three wavy lines creased his high forehead. He didn’t wear clothing in the traditional sense, but he had formed the appearance of boots, pants, and a long-sleeved shirt about him.
“Your name is Laas, I’m told,” T’Jul continued. Once everybody aboard Ren Fejin had been phase-shifted to Eletrix, they had all been rendered unconscious with a disruptor blast—all but the shape-shifter, who had proven impervious to the stun setting. Instead, T’Jul’s security staff had dealt with him in a different manner.
Still receiving no response from the Changeling, T’Jul went on. “All of the Jem’Hadar aboard the Breen vessel are alive and have not been harmed,” she said. “They have been divested of their Breen armor, and we are currently holding them in detention cells. We are prepared, though, to set them—and you—free.”
The proclamation still elicited no reply from the shape-shifter, who stood there with the eyes he had crafted out of his morphogenic matrix, and he stared down at the deck. T’Jul moved away from the head of the table and walked along its length, toward the prisoner she genuinely hoped to release soon. When she reached the Changeling—careful to remain beyond the length of his arms—she waited for him to look up at her. When he didn’t, she decided to go on.
“I’m sorry about the use of our device,” she said, pointing to a bulky cylinder standing on a larger octagonal base in the center of the table. It emitted a low hum, and chaser lights circled its upper rim. The Cardassians had initially created the quantum stasis field, and the Romulans had perfected it—at least to the extent that it could be perfected. The device prevented a shape-shifter from changing form, but it functioned only over modest distances. Tomalak had brought several of them onto the ship, knowing that Eletrix might need to divert to the Dominion. Before bringing the shape-shifter aboard, he had deployed them throughout the ship, ensuring that the Changeling would be unable to use his abilities while in their custody. “I wanted to be able to speak with you, but if you retained your capacity to change your shape at will, I wasn’t sure you’d freely listen to me.”
The shape-shifter still said nothing, still peered downward.
Fighting back her frustration, T’Jul charged ahead. “Neither my crew nor that of the Breen vessel have come here to commit violence against your people or any part of your empire.”
At last, the Changeling lifted his head. From deep-set eyes, he glared coldly at her. “Y
ou come in peace, is that it?” he said, his voice dripping with odium. “I believe that’s what monoforms say just before they attempt to commit genocide.”
“We are here because the Federation and its allies are threatening our people,” T’Jul said. She motioned back toward Kazren and Trok. “The Romulans, the Breen, and others.”
“All you monoforms like to do is talk and fight,” Laas said. “I suppose it is your effort to compensate for living your individual lives in such solitude.”
“We do not wish to fight,” T’Jul maintained. “We have come here in the hope of acquiring technology from the Dominion that will put us on an even footing with the Federation. In that way, we will be able to avoid war.”
“I don’t care,” Laas said. “Fight. Fight until you are all dead. Leave the galaxy to those who deserve to live in it … to those who can appreciate and experience its many marvels.”
“We don’t want to fight,” T’Jul persisted. “As I said, we came here to acquire technology from the Dominion—not weapons, but defensive equipment.”
“And so you were going to steal it from us,” Laas said.
It occurred to T’Jul to lie, to assert that the Breen had intended to bargain for the technology, but since Ren Fejin had entered Dominion space and approached Overne III under cloak, and then enlisted the aid of a cloaked Romulan warbird, such a claim would lack credibility. Instead, she chose to adhere to a version of the truth. “Yes, we were going to steal your equipment for manufacturing deflector and structural integrity shield generators. We did not think you would give them to us.”
Star Trek: Typhon Pact 06: Plagues of Night Page 38
