Cardassia and Andor

by Una McCormack

  Phillipa’s eyes widened. “Your bondmates weren’t targeting Vretha, they were targeting Shar.”

  Shar’s eyes moved to Thantis, who knelt beside him still. “Were you part of this?”

  “No, Thirishar,” she said. “Whatever else you believe about me, believe that. I knew nothing.”

  “Nor did I,” Thia whispered. “Not until it was too late, when Charivretha and my bondmates were already gone. I did not conspire to kidnap you or Councillor zh’Thane. I don’t agree with the Progressives or with what the Science Institute is doing, but I tried convincing my bondmates that there were other ways to draw attention to our cause. I truly believed it was just talk, that they would never take it this far. Clearly, I was wrong. Now I must make this right.”

  “Your cooperation will make a considerable difference in the consequences that you’ll face, Zha,” ch’Shal said.

  She turned to him. “It is not the consequences meted out by the judiciary or the Parliamentary Council that concern me, Sentinel. It is what my bondmates will do when they learn I have betrayed them.”

  Shar felt Thia’s eyes on him. At first, he resisted looking at her, but his anxiety overcame his anger. He saw regret. He saw apology.

  He saw his own sorrow.

  She wrenched her gaze away. “They’ve used my credentials and access to take Vretha into the Reserve.”

  Ch’Shal’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

  “I kept extensive records of an expedition I made there three cycles ago. Those files have recently been accessed, and I believe I know where they have taken her.”

  “How far into the interior?” ch’Shal asked.

  “Not far. Less than a day’s travel by foot. But I suspect my bondmates had transportation.”

  “I’ll need your data.”

  Thia nodded. “I warn you, it won’t be easy to find anyone inside the Reserve. You could try isolating them by satellite, but I doubt you will have much luck. The latent radiation throughout the terrain tends to confuse biosensors. It’s why we still perform scientific surveys there the traditional way.”

  “And with pattern scramblers in place, transporters aren’t an option,” ch’Shal mused. “An overt assault from the air will not go unnoticed, and likely cost Charivretha her life. If there’s to be a rescue mission, Homeworld Security will need to go in covertly, on foot.”

  “When are they expected to be here?”

  “In less than three hours.”

  “Too long,” Shar said, rising to his feet. “I’m leaving, right now.”

  Ch’Shal frowned. “Consider what you’re saying, Thirishar.”

  “I have,” he answered. “I’m an experienced Starfleet officer, and I will not wait idly in order to entrust my zhavey’s life to another.”

  “I’m coming with you too,” Phillipa said.

  “Phillipa—” Shar began.

  “I’m the ranking Starfleet officer here, Ensign,” Phillipa snapped. “And I say this isn’t open to discussion.”

  Shar blinked. “Yes, sir.”

  Phillipa winked at him.

  Another voice, gravelly with fatigue, came from the archway. “Count me in, too.”

  Shar turned. Waxen and gaunt-faced, Prynn walked in and stood next to him. “You were right about those treatments, Commander. I feel like a new woman. My thanks and compliments to your physician, Zha Sessenthantis.” She folded her arms and scanned the faces in the room alertly, but Shar perceived a slight swaying in her stance.

  “Prynn,” he said gently, “I think we can—”

  “—use my help?” she interrupted. “Good. I knew you’d see it my way.”

  “Are you sure about this, Ensign?” Phillipa asked.

  “Absolutely, Commander.”

  Once again, Shar found himself moved by Prynn. She supports me in everything, even after all that’s happened.

  “This is unwise and dangerous,” ch’Shal reiterated. “I don’t doubt your skills, but none of you has any experience in the Reserve, not even Thirishar.”

  “But I do,” Thia said. “I’ll guide them.”

  “Your thei, Thia,” Thantis said. “You must think of him.”

  She shook her head. “My sh’za will take him. She was not part of our bondmates’ plans, either. I must do this. My th’se and my ch’te might listen to me when they will listen to no other. I might be their best hope, as well as Charivretha’s. I doubt any member of security would hesitate if forced to choose between Councillor zh’Thane and her captors. Perhaps I can assure that such a choice won’t be necessary.”

  Watching Thia, Shar no longer knew how to feel about her. Moments ago he hated her enough to kill her. Now he felt relief for her willingness to help them, but also wariness at having to trust her.

  As if she sensed him looking at her, Thia turned in his direction and their eyes locked once again. She’s right, he realized at last. She may be Zhavey’s best hope. He took a few steps toward her and extended his hand, palm out.

  Her eyes went wide with surprise.

  “Whatever happens, I wish to thank you for helping us,” Shar said. “And to to tell you I’m sorry.”

  Slowly, Thia lifted her arm, and her palm met his. “As am I,” she whispered.

  He sensed the deep vein of strength flowing through her, and knew she would be a formidable ally—or opponent.

  8

  Kneeling in the beach sand, feeling the midmorning energy from the white Andorian sun warming her neck, Prynn checked and double-checked the four gear packs: tricorders, grappling hooks, karabiners, pitons, climbing cables, harnesses, field medical kit, canteens, ration bars to fuel them for the duration…. All appeared to be complete and in working order. And then there are the three phasers, she noted grimly. The question is who I’m going to have to use this thing on? she thought, glancing over at Thia, who was orienting Phillipa and Shar with a map of the Reserve.

  Satisfied that they had all the equipment they needed, she touched her combadge, notifying ch’Shal aboard the aquacraft anchored off shore that the mission would be underway shortly. The team would maintain communications silence for the next twenty-five hours, unless they found Vretha sooner, or were forced to abort. Back at the keep, Thantis would be in the unenviable position of telling Homeworld Security what they had done, and reinforcing the fact that any interference with the rescue op would jeopardize all their lives, Vretha’s included.

  By dawn tomorrow this will all be over, one way or another, she thought, zipping the formfitting expedition suit up her neck. The suits were of the Zha’s own design and manufacture, created, she’d explained, for Thia’s fieldwork. The second-skin feel of the unusual fabric took some getting used to—she felt practically naked. But it was flexible, breathed well and, according to Thantis, would absorb impacts and even withstand blades up to a point. Phasers, Prynn assumed, were another matter.

  Thia had wrapped her hair, turban style, in a long length of black cloth. When Phillipa asked her about it, she’d claimed that this remote nature preserve—an island roughly the size of the Indian peninsula—was “sacred” land and she would not “offend the Guardians” by appearing vain and disrespectful. Her back to the zhen, Prynn had rolled her eyes, inviting a withering glare from Commander Matthias. After that, Prynn had realized she needed a few minutes to herself, and volunteered to recheck their packs while the others discussed the journey ahead.

  “So here we are,” she muttered under her breath, “in the middle of nowhere.” And other than the four of them, Prynn saw little life. Spindly deciduous trees clustered at the base of a waterfall provided a splash of vivid greens and maroons. Otherwise, the only observable plants were bristly brown-shrubs and clumps of yellowing, sun-ripened beach grasses sprouting from the dunes shushing in the late-afternoon winds. Small multipeds sunning on rocks and calls of unseen avians testified to animal inhabitants, but Prynn had no doubt about what held dominion here: sun, earth, and water.

  The crescent beach of white-si
lica sand was enclosed by sheer layered cliffs of rust red sandstone, limestone, glassy crystalline gypsum, and grayish clay. The towering walls made it impossible to see the landscape above and beyond the beach. She knew, though, from the hour she’d spent studying the files provided by Thia, that this part of the Reserve was primarily desert, composed of dusty flats, water-carved peaks and canyons—some as deep as fifteen hundred to two thousand meters—and formations created by ancient volcanic activity. Prynn wasn’t surprised to learn that Andorians chose not to live in this place: the Reserve had been beaten, kneaded, exploded, and reformed by plate tectonics and the elements for longer than Andor had known sentient life.

  Across from where they landed on the beach was the waterfall where they would start their journey into the continental interior.

  Satisfied that their gear was prepared, Prynn fastened up the packs, threaded two on each arm, and trudged down the beach to join her teammates, who had taken momentary refuge in the scanty shade offered by a defoliated tree. Thia had placed the padd on a flat boulder, allowing them reference to the terrain she was describing. Prynn slid in beside Shar, tried catching his eye, but his attention remained fixed on Thia’s briefing.

  Considering the stakes, Prynn tried not to personalize his behavior. But Shar had barely acknowledged her today, save with monosyllables and sharp nods. Typical male “morning after” behavior, she thought. Except that Shar wasn’t really male, and there hadn’t really been a “night” to have a “morning after.” At least not one that she recalled. Though she liked what she could remember of the heated encounter. Which might be part of Shar’s problem. Maybe he knew something she didn’t and that was the source of the tension between them. Of course, she wouldn’t know what he knew unless he deigned to speak to her. Prynn made a promise to renew her anti-relationship/anti-male stance as soon as all potential tragedies had been averted. It wasn’t fair to resent Shar before that. But after? Once Vretha was safe, Thriss’s funeral was over, and Thia’s bondmates were in custody, Prynn would make him talk to her. Until then, she would tolerate his disinterested silences.

  “We scale that rock formation over there,” Thia said, pointing to a sheer-faced red rock escarpment, “on a path parallel to the waterfall. Midway up the falls, we will enter into a cave that’s hidden behind the water. From there, we will go through the cave, tracing the path of a creek back to where it originates in a narrow slot canyon. The slot canyon opens onto the Great Wash. By then, it will be almost dark and we’ll be able to move more openly. The mouth of the lava tube where I believe they’ve taken Vretha is a few kilometers past Temple Butte within the Coral Canyon complex.”

  “Why is it called the ‘Great Wash’?” Phillipa asked, taking the padd off the boulder to examine it more carefully.

  “Once upon a time, the wash formed the bottom of a primeval lake. Now, it’s just a huge, relatively flat basin that is more or less a ‘trunk’ for dozens of smaller canyons that branch off it. It’s still eroded by flash floods produced by torrential rainfall. Other questions?”

  Taking the padd from Phillipa, Prynn studied their route, realizing that even if they moved quickly, reaching the lava tube would require an all-night hike. “We should probably stop talking and start moving.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Thia said. “Are we ready?”

  Prynn snorted. “Of course.” She passed each person their backpack. Shar carried the bulk of their climbing gear. Phillipa was in charge of their medkit and tools. The rest of their equipment was divvied up between Prynn and Thia. As Prynn hitched the pack onto her back and adjusted the straps around her waist so the weight was equally distributed, Thia watched critically.

  “A resting spot will be available after we pass through the cave and into the canyon. Otherwise, I can assume part of your load. I assure you it would be no burden.”

  Instead of firing off a snappy comeback, Prynn counted backward from ten before answering. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying twenty kilos more than this.”

  “But after a saf overdose?”

  Realizing that Thia didn’t have the cultural reference point to understand that being called a female dog was an insult, Prynn let the zhen’s comment go.

  “Let’s be on our way, shall we?” Phillipa said, positioning herself in line between Prynn, who brought up the rear, and Thia, who walked behind Shar.

  For a minute, Phillipa hung back so she could walk side by side with Prynn. “Don’t make me regret allowing you to join this mission, Ensign Tenmei. You might technically be on leave, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re an officer on Starfleet duty, under my command,” she said, sotto voce. “Comport yourself appropriately.”

  “Yes, sir,” Prynn said, taking a deep breath and neutralizing her expression. She owed it to Shar to be on her best behavior.

  Studying the back of Thia’s turban-swaddled head, Prynn decided that maybe she should avoid the rush and start hating the zhen before she exposed her traitorous inclinations. She would savor every I-told-you-so.

  * * *

  The climb up the waterfall face was straightforward; they could easily top rope and belay at the foot of the falls. The presence of a climbing anchor fastened near the top of the falls required only that Shar have decent aim when he launched the self-attaching cable. Not surprisingly, Shar made swift work of his tasks; the cable was secured and the belay device hitched up shortly after he started. The only question remaining was how the group would be organized. Thia volunteered to lead the team into the cave: after all, she was the only person in the group familiar with the terrain.

  The mission is an hour old and I’m already forced to make a judgment call, Phillipa thought. Sending Thia first might be logical, but it also had risks: She didn’t entirely trust the zhen—not for the same reasons Prynn might give—but the end result was the same. Thia had a conflict of interest when it came to Vretha’s kidnappers. When faced with a choice between Vretha and her bondmates, Phillipa wasn’t certain who Thia would protect or that she should be forced to make that decision. To keep an eye on their de facto guide, Phillipa decided that the team members would “buddy” for the duration of the mission. She would pair up with Prynn, while Thia would partner with Shar. Another risk, there, especially considering the incident back at the keep. As disturbingly savage as Shar’s attack had been, however, both Andorians seemed to find it easy to put it aside, once an understanding had been reached. Once again, Phillipa couldn’t help but be fascinated by the culture of this world, the seeming contradictions and subtle subtexts, the complex relationships among the four sexes, the unique stresses their biology-defined social structure put on each and every one of them throughout their lives. In that context, having Shar and Thia pair up seemed the safest choice. They understood one another; if Thia was up to something, Shar would likely see it before any of them.

  In the end, Shar led out, fixing the karabiners and pitons for those who followed after. When Shar signaled that he’d completed his climb, Thia started off. Phillipa remained at the bottom, harnessed into the belay device, keeping an eye on the cable tension. Prynn paced as she waited her turn, kicking up dirt and pebbles.

  Thia climbed, quick and nimble, vanishing behind a wind-carved palisade. A few minutes later, a beep on the belay device indicated that Thia had unfastened the harness. Shortly after, the harness came sliding down the cable, ready for Prynn to use.

  Prynn slid the harness up over her thighs and fastened it around her waist. Phillipa double-checked her work, and once she was certain that the harness was secure, she attached the cable.

  “I’m only looking out for Shar’s safety,” Prynn said quietly.

  “Of course you are. So am I,” Phillipa said. “But I’d advise you to examine your motivations more carefully—they might not be as selfless as you think.” She took the ensign’s phaser and deactivated the safety. “You need to be ready to use this,” she said, reattaching the weapon to Prynn’s waist.

  Prynn said nothing, her re
solve evident in her eyes.

  As Phillipa watched the young woman ascend the rock, it began to sink in just how uncertain the outcome of their mission was, especially given the powerful emotional components. Thia was dangerously conflicted, and the closer they drew to their goal, Phillipa guessed, the worse it would become. Shar appeared to be focused, but he held himself apart—his aloofness could be problematic. On the other extreme, Prynn was an open conduit, her emotions surging so close to the surface that the merest provocation could initiate an overload.

  Another beep from the belay device. Shar was ready for her.

  Smiling wanly as she thought of her charges, Phillipa remembered how exhausting it was being in her twenties when each twist of life and love felt impossibly serious. And while she recognized that the two ensigns had developed much maturity in surviving their respective traumas, they were still young. Mistakes would be made and forgiven; they would live to love another day. She gave a good hard pull on the cable, and finding it taut, began her ascent.

  * * *

  Had the mission allowed for it, Shar would have indulged in a study of his surroundings. The feldspar cave-grotto flashed blue as it reflected the sunlight reflecting off the clear water. He could see smokefish streaking around the pools, scattering with each step he took. Once Phillipa arrived in the cave and they’d repacked their climbing gear, the hiking began in earnest. As they followed the creek backward, the beige sandstone walls revealed a dramatic geological history with fossils, cavern paintings, and petrified wood embedded in the bluffs.

  The team followed along the meandering creek for hours, emerging out of the cave into a narrow slot canyon—perhaps two arm spans across. Tall, water-polished walls closed in on both sides, squeezing out the sky and creating deep pools of shadow on the barren canyon floor. Stillness, unbroken save by the gurgling water, testified to the remoteness of this place; layer upon layer of rock compressed together had formed the canyon walls, revealing a history beyond living memory. He knew his ancestors had once sought refuge in this rugged country, but Shar felt as if he were among the first ever to walk this water-smoothed limestone path. None of them spoke. The desire to avoid detection would be the obvious reason, but he could sense awe from everyone—a sense of being small, of insignificance in the face of such majesty.