Echoes of Coventry

by Richard C. White

Sabran looked up from his scope, “So, she needs you to break the encryption before she can identify the language and you need her to identify the language before you can break the cipher? Most unfortunate.”

  Bart laughed, “Well, I can break it, eventually. I’ve translated a few artifacts without having a clue who made them or what their purpose was. It just helps if you know something about the culture. The more clues you have, the better your chances are.”

  Priya looked over at Jamie. “How are you doing over there, Mr. Cruz?”

  He looked up from his station and smiled. “Please, call me Jamie, okay? I’m patching a range of subspace frequencies into Probes 24 and 38, since they’re the two closest to 42. If we pick up another unidentified message, it’ll alert those two and we’ll try to triangulate the message. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch the receiving station acknowledging and we can see where this message is going.”

  “How long will that take, Mis—Jamie?” Priya asked, picking up her padd again, and touching a few symbols on the page with her stylus, isolating them for further study later.

  “Reprogramming the probes? Already done. How long will it take to find where these messages are coming from? All depends on if and when they transmit again. I can’t find what’s not out there. I’ve filed the initial report with Starfleet. I forwarded a section of what we picked up for them to do some crunching on those big computers they’ve got back there.”

  “Do you believe they’ll have any more success than we?” Sabran asked. “I’m having difficulty even identifying the transmission method for this message. It’s akin to nothing I’ve ever encountered.”

  A silence settled back over the room while they continued to examine the message. After a little while, the silence was broken by a beeping coming from Jamie’s console. Touching a control, a fuzzy picture appeared on a small communications screen set in the wall.

  “This is Raven, over,” Jamie replied to the hail. When they had arrived, their orders explained that even over secure comms, they were to use cover terms. If the Federation was able to break Cardassian codes, there was every reason to believe they could return the favor.

  “Raven, this is Tiger. Reference your last message. Drop all else. Ironclad coverage on lone wolf in the pack. Forward all reports to this station every twelve hours. Out.”

  The message faded out as the transmission was cut off, leaving an eerie silence in the room. What in the world have we discovered? Bart wondered.

  Chapter

  4

  A week later, Bart was almost wishing they hadn’t found that signal. “Sabran, have you had any luck at all?” he asked as he reviewed his padd for what felt like the thousandth time.

  “I am quite capable of understanding orders.” Even in the dim light, Bart thought he could see a faint hint of frustration on Sabran’s normally stoic face. “My silence implies my lack of success.”

  “I can’t help it! I’m going out of my mind with boredom.” Bart snarled, almost tossing the padd across the room. “This bloody signal isn’t due for another six hours, thirty-two minutes. Every day, it’s the same; a quick microburst and that’s it for the day.”

  “Ironclad coverage does not allow us to deviate our attention to other signals of interest nor can we commit any of our equipment to other tasks. While I’m not certain I understand the logic in ignoring other signals to listen for this specific one, we have our orders.”

  Deciding this conversation was over, Bart sat at his workstation fuming for a bit. Looking around the operations area, he noted the chaos that had descended on it; stacks of printouts, padds, and reference material were scattered everywhere. Even though most of their work was done on computers, sometimes they found it easier to deal with a schematic or a long piece of analytic work when it was printed out so they could observe the whole thing at once. He had a number of the messages pinned to the walls with lines of varying colors going from one side to the other, looking for commonalities.

  “I don’t mind the orders so much, but I’m growing tired of Admiral Hazlitt’s staff checking up on us all the time. I’m pleased they’re interested in what we’re doing, but I wish they weren’t trying to tell us how to do our jobs.” Bart could hear the tone of annoyance in the feminine voice that sounded in the hallway. A few seconds later, Priya appeared in the room. “You’re relieved from your shift, Sabran.” She took her place at her workstation and brought her console to life. As he started to stand, she continued, “Although if you want to hang around, you’re more than welcome.”

  The Vulcan immediately settled back into his chair and called up a new set of equations on his workstation. “If you would not mind. There is something in this latest communication we intercepted that is proving interesting. I would enjoy an opportunity to pursue it further.” Before Priya could respond, he turned around and returned to his task, the images changing on his computer screen faster than she could follow.

  “Good evening, Bart. I’m glad to see you’re in such a good mood. Are you ready for another racquetball match after our shift?” The sly grin on her face told Bart this wasn’t as innocent a question as it sounded.

  “Of course I am. After the drubbing you gave me yesterday, I fully intend to get my pound of flesh.” Bart grinned back at her. “Oh, Priya, could you look at this bit of traffic with me? I think I’m starting to make sense out of a few sections. Make sense in the most generous terms, that is.”

  The Bajoran lieutenant moved over quickly and began examining the sections of code Bart had highlighted on his padd. Her eyes flicked between the padd and the scribbles he had made on the papers lining the wall, slowly nodding to herself. “That’s promising, Bart. The same section of code occurs here in group 21 on this message and group 17 on the fourth message. Have you been able to identify the particular code yet?”

  “No, the messages are still too short. We’re starting to get enough of them to begin making comparisons. Up until now, I’ve been mainly applying brute force methods to them, trying different Cardassian words and seeing if I could force something in. Heck, I’ve even tried Jem’Hadar and Bajoran military terms to see if anything fit. Not that I think the Bajorans are helping,” he quickly added, spotting the look on her face. “It’s just that at this point, I’m trying anything the Cardassians might use to see if I can crib something in.”

  They spent the next couple of hours working on the problem, discussing different possibilities and discarding more theories than identifying ones worth pursuing further. Bart felt his mind and throat getting worn out about the same time and decided a cup of coffee was exactly what he needed. He looked up and saw Sabran and Jamie huddled over a computer whispering excitedly to each other.

  “Good God, sir, what are you doing up? I thought you’d gone to bed hours ago.” Bart grabbed the steaming cup of coffee from the replicator. “I didn’t even see you come in.”

  The Alpha Centaurian turned to him with a harried look. “I was lying there almost asleep and all of a sudden it hit me. I had to come down here and check it out.” Jamie’s voice was slightly slurred and from the hunch of his shoulders, Bart could tell his body was fighting with his will about sleep.

  “What hit you?” Priya spun around in her chair to look at the analyst. Her dark brown eyes showed concern for Jamie’s condition, but there was no mistaking the excitement creeping into her voice.

  Jamie continued his slurred explanation, as if he’d never heard Priya’s question. “Sabran is helping me run the statistics. I don’t trust my eyes right now, but I think I’ve figured out a way to determine where the messages are going to and coming from. That might give you guys the break you need to get into those messages.” From the way his eyes were glazed over, it was obvious to Bart the immediate question was would the computer finish its analysis before Jamie fell asleep on them.

  “Jamie, have you been skipping your sleep sessions again?” Priya’s expression showed a hint of irritation as she ordered up some hot chocolate for the drowsy analys
t. “I thought we discussed this obsession you have with working until you pass out.”

  “We did discuss it. It’s just hard once I get my teeth into a problem to not work on it,” Jamie admitted, before gratefully accepting the steaming mug. After nearly scalding his lips, he compromised by taking a deep whiff of the chocolate smell before setting it aside to cool. “However, I think I’ve really got something this time.”

  “And as soon as you’re certain, one way or the other?” she asked in a threatening tone.

  “As soon as I’m certain, I’m going straight to my bunk. No questions asked.”

  “We’re getting something,” Sabran announced to no one in particular. Bart and the others crowded around the workstation as the Vulcan brought up the results on the large projection screen.

  “I was right, the first message is originating in Cardassian space.” Cruz almost crowed as he grabbed a padd off a nearby table and started paging through it. “According to that last bit of information I requested from Starfleet, there’s something…ah, an abandoned Cardassian naval yard is located at those coordinates. I guess we can inform Starfleet it’s been reoccupied. Sabran, can you pull up a map with those coordinates highlighted?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Cruz.” Sabran never looked up from his screen, continuing to work on Jamie’s calculations.

  “Sabran…” Jamie stretched the Vulcan’s name out, ensuring he had the chief’s attention.

  “Yes, Mr. Cruz?”

  “Will you please call up the map with those coordinates highlighted?” he asked the literal-minded Vulcan.

  Bart stifled a chuckle as Sabran turned without saying anything and nonchalantly brought the requested scene up on the large monitor. He wondered sometimes if Sabran was as literal as he appeared or if this was his subtle way of encouraging Jamie to be more precise with his language. Pulling himself back to the here and now, Bart noted the coordinates were on the “northern” edge of Cardassian space. There were only a few inhabited systems nearby and none of them were important enough to warrant much interest. It was a great location for a base if you didn’t want to draw much attention.

  “Here comes the tricky part, Sabran. How close do you believe the second set of coordinates are to being correct?” Jamie asked, a small waver in his voice. He picked up the hot chocolate again to steady himself.

  “I have no way to be certain, Mr. Cruz, but from examining your proposed test, the mathematics are sound and the proposal is highly logical. I see no reason to doubt the results at this time.” Sabran’s voice was carefully neutral as always.

  “All right then, let ’er rip.” Jamie said, the excitement in his eyes blazing, his posture straightening as the next wave of adrenaline hit.

  Bart watched as a series of formulae flashed over the screen. He wasn’t sure what the computer was searching for, but he could tell the mathematics involved were more advanced than anything he’d taken either during his abortive time at Starfleet Academy or after that in the three different universities on three different planets where he’d done his studies leading to his doctorate.

  After a few minutes, the computer announced it had arrived at an answer.

  “Put it on the main screen,” Jamie said. As they watched, a star system was projected on the wall in front of them. “Magnify and identify.” Bart could hear the excitement in the mission commander’s voice as his idea had apparently paid off.

  Finally, the recipient of the mysterious transmissions was identified. As soon as it became clear where the messages were going, Bart felt a cold shiver run down his back.

  The Breen Confederacy.

  “Well, that explains a lot of things,” Priya said, a forced nonchalance in her voice. Bart took a quick glance at her and could see she was unnerved by this sudden turn of events. “No wonder it didn’t match up with any word patterns I was applying to your recoveries, Bart. I was applying the wrong language.”

  “Don’t look at me. I hope you speak Breen. I know just enough to order a beer and find the bathroom if I got stuck in one of their space ports.”

  “We certainly didn’t have contact with them on Bajor, but I’m certain someone’s got a Breen dictionary we can access somewhere.”

  “Is it wise to concentrate on the Breen language?” Sabran asked, his quiet voice breaking into their congratulations. “Since these messages are going to the Breen homeworld, is it not possible it’s communication aimed at someone else? It could still be Cardassian, or one of the Dominion species such as the Vorta or the Jem’Hadar.”

  “Ah, Sabran, always the voice of reason,” Jamie said. “Well, let’s get this information off to Starfleet. It’ll take a little while for them to digest this lump of gristle and inform everyone who needs to be informed. They’ll probably request further directional shots to be certain we know how to read a computer screen.”

  “You think they won’t believe us? Why would Starfleet put us out here if they won’t accept what we find?” Priya’s questions were accompanied by a disbelieving frown.

  “Didn’t say they won’t believe us, but some old Earth scientist stated something like ‘extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof.’ If I were you, I’d certainly enjoy my next few shifts off. I expect things to get really busy around here very soon.” Jamie raised a hand to his mouth, stifling a yawn.

  “And you need to get back to bed, Mr. Cruz,” Priya said, threatening the half-asleep Alpha Centaurian. Bart chuckled in spite of himself as she assigned Sabran to ensure Jamie got to his quarters before he passed out. Turning back to his padd, he started to go over all his data again.

  The Breen.

  Chapter

  5

  The insistent buzzing of the intercom woke Bart up out of a deep sleep. Groggily, he reached out and found the speaker button on the second try. Trying not to fall out of his bunk, he finally made himself intelligible. “Faulwell here.”

  “Bart, this is Cruz.” A familiar voice slowly filtered into his sleep-fogged brain as he forced himself to sit up on the edge of his bed, staring into the darkness of his room. “You need to get down to operations as quickly as possible.”

  “What’s going on? The power plant threatening to blow up? The Cardassians are attacking? Ow!” Stars exploded in his head as his shin rammed into the nightstand next to his bed. “Computer, lights.” Fully awake as the room became illuminated, he grabbed his leg, trying not to plunge forward on his face. Expelling a few choice curse words under his breath, he headed for his closet.

  In the background, he could hear Jamie’s response. “Priority One message from SI headquarters. They want all of us present. Preferably in one piece.” Bart could hear him suppressing a laugh.

  So much for them taking their time to digest the information. He grabbed a fresh uniform out of the closet, giving himself a second to calm down before replying. “You’re hilarious,” he called back toward the intercom, struggling to put his tunic over his head. “Be there in about five minutes.”

  As Bart entered operations, he noted everyone else seated around the various workstations that dominated the room, waiting for him to arrive. To his surprise, even Lieutenant Zarinth was there. Someone must have held a phaser to his head. He never comes down to operations unless he absolutely has to. Bart responded with a cheery smile as the Andorian greeted him with a humorless nod. Zarinth had taken over the security center and converted it into his office/personal quarters, preferring to ignore the intelligence personnel as much as possible.

  As soon as Bart placed his chair where he had an unobstructed view of the screen, he nodded to Jamie, who dimmed the room lights and brought up the signal. The transmission was weak and fuzzy, but there was no questioning the concern on Commander Mwakwere’s face.

  “Excellent work so far. The analysts here at Headquarters agree with your findings. It corroborates some reports we’ve been receiving from other sources. Prepare to receive supplemental tasking for your mission.”

  “Standing by, sir,” Jamie said.r />
  “Your first priority is to determine exactly who is sending and who is receiving these messages. We need as much information as you can possibly derive from any and all sources at your disposal. Secondly, we need to know exactly what is being transmitted in these messages, so we’ll need full reports on not only the encryption system and its keys, but also complete translations of all messages that you can recover.”

  “Should we continue forwarding everything we intercept to your location for analysis?” Bart noted there was a serious tone in Jamie’s voice he’d never heard before.

  “Yes and no.” Commander Mwakwere ran his hand through his close-cropped black hair. “There’s no question about the value of the information we’re receiving from you. We have no historical equivalents to the cryptosystem you’ve encountered. The head shed thinks it’s probably a unique system and probably some very high-level stuff going back and forth on this channel. However…”

  “I’m not certain I like where this is going,” Bart said, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.

  “You’re going to like this even less, then, Petty Officer. We have reason to believe the existence of your mission has been compromised. We’re not certain, but the counterintelligence guys tell us there’s a good chance that one of the Mungin receivers was discovered, based on their own sources. The Dominion probably doesn’t know where they’re routed to, but you can be damn certain they’re going to devote a lot of time trying to find out.”

  “Understood, Commander. We’ll make preparations just in case,” Jamie replied.

  “I’m certain you will, Mr. Cruz. However, to minimize your signature, it would be best if you limited communications with us. That’s why Mungin will have to do the majority of the heavy lifting on this project. The more traffic you feed us, the more likely your site will be compromised. In fact, unless absolutely necessary, maintaining radio silence unless you have a solution would probably be best.”