Star Trek Prometheus -Fire with Fire

by Christian Humberg

  A murmur rose in the chamber; the first sign of life from the council members in more than two minutes.

  “And those are only the victims we know about so far. The Klingon High Council is already edgy, and I have to assume that this will not be the final toll. However, I am not referring to the threat that we’ve just heard, be it believable or not. I’m referring to the strategic value that Starbase 91 posed for us. I’m referring to the long-term concerns regarding its destruction.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that zh’Tarash and Admiral Markus Rohde of Starfleet Intelligence were quietly whispering to each other on the dais. Rohde probably would have been the better choice to deliver this speech.

  Akaar pressed another control. The station’s image was replaced by a strategic map of the region around the Lembatta Cluster. “Geographically speaking, Starbase 91 may have been remote. However, it was immensely important strategically due to its array of long-range deep-space sensors. We have lost a key observation point around near Gorn space. Admittedly, current intelligence from Cestus III is that the Gorn are keeping to themselves for the time being, unlike some of their fellow members of the Typhon Pact. Unless you have intel to the contrary, Admiral?” He looked at Rohde who shook his head silently.

  The admiral continued. “What’s more, they have distanced themselves from this incident and are insisting on their innocence. I tend to believe them. Still, I know I would sleep much more soundly if I could be sure that we’re keeping an eye on them, and that our proverbial gates aren’t left open. I’d like to be certain that our watch is still unwavering.”

  Akaar paused to let his words sink in with the audience. Here and there he saw nodding heads… his colleague Alynna Nechayev, for one. The admiral sat in the first row on the western side of the chamber next to a Vulcan who was clad in the ceremonial robes of an ambassador.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” Akaar let his gaze wander from one face to the next. “The Gorn are members of the Typhon Pact, and they were renegades of this pact. Deep Space 9 fell victim to their terrorist acts only two years ago. There’s now another annihilated space station near Gorn space.”

  Again, he paused. Words influenced thoughts, and he wanted to make the councilors think and ask difficult questions. That was the only way they could come up with a well-founded opinion. Only those who contemplated were able to comprehend.

  “However, I do not believe this is the work of the Typhon Pact. I know their modus operandi, their agenda, and this is not consistent with that. I believe—and the rest of Starfleet Command agrees—that this is the work of an entirely new aggressor.”

  A Tellarite rose hesitantly. Akaar knew him by sight but couldn’t recall his name. “Yes?” the Admiral asked.

  “I’m begging your pardon, but…” The Tellarite councilor twitched his porcine nose. His cavernous eyes blinked nervously. “If this really wasn’t an attack by the Pact, do you believe we’re dealing with a move by the Renao?”

  Nechayev rose, looking at the Tellarite. “We can’t rule anything out, Delegate Kyll. The intelligence service has issued warnings for several months regarding increasing radicalization within the Lembatta Cluster. I’m sure you’ve studied these reports meticulously.”

  The biting sarcasm of the last sentence had been an open attack. Nechayev knew full well—just as Akaar and all the others did—that these reports had gone virtually unnoticed by the Federation Council.

  “We shouldn’t rule it out completely,” Akaar said, “though it’s hardly proven, either.”

  Nechayev faced the dais, looking Akaar right in the eyes. “That was a Renao in that holovid.”

  Turning away from Nechayev’s penetrating gaze, he stared at the dais behind him. “Admiral Rohde?”

  The Starfleet Intelligence head rose from his seat, facing the assembly. He did not bother to step up to the lectern, but his sonorous voice filled the chamber without the assistance of amplification. “Admiral Akaar is right, as is Admiral Nechayev. The Renao are indeed more active than they have been in a long time. More to the point, they have been more aggressive. We’ve been unable to ascertain the reason for their change in behavior… if indeed it is a change in behavior. The Renao are a backward species, with no technology worth mentioning, particularly not in the context of the attack on Starbase 91. The presence of this holovid doesn’t change that. The Renao don’t pursue any political goals beyond their own worlds and are keen on isolation, not on expansion or even a holy war. Yes, we’ve received reports of extremist behavior, but that’s limited to small breakaway groups that don’t have the resources to mount an attack such as this. Beyond that, the Renao—who are so very keen on their private ‘sphere’—are unlikely to suddenly turn their attention beyond their borders.” He shook his head. “No, the Renao are simply not capable of such an act of terrorism. They have shown no interest in such a thing, nor an interest in us.”

  Nodding in his direction, Akaar turned back to the council from the lectern. “Starfleet Command shares this opinion.”

  “If this holovid really shows us one of the perpetrators of November 1—” Rohde started.

  “At least he’s claiming to be one of them with certain vehemence,” Nechayev put in emphatically.

  A Benzite councilor two rows behind her added to the admiral’s comment. “Claims of responsibility are fairly common. Every time a disaster happens, we receive dozens of alleged confessions. Most are insupportable claims of extremist idealists. Their cases should be presented to psychiatrists, not to the Federation Council.”

  Rohde finished his thought, ignoring the two interruptions. “—it’s possible that someone wants to wave a red herring under our noses. Perhaps the Renao are merely being used as a scapegoat. This seems much more likely than so major a change in Renao society coupled with an inexplicable technology boost.”

  “The Federation needs to respond to this disaster,” Nechayev said indignantly. Unlike Kyll, she hadn’t sat back down. “Admiral, I don’t believe our intelligence on the Renao—or on several other races—has been nearly as thorough as we think. We have to act now.”

  I wish that were as easy as it sounds, Akaar thought wistfully. The heavy losses suffered during the Dominion War and the Borg invasion had diminished the fleet’s strength considerably. The docks were working at full capacity to rectify that but they simply couldn’t perform miracles.

  To the admiral’s surprise, the president appeared by his side.

  “And we will act.” Zh’Tarash placed a hand on Akaar’s shoulder when he attempted to make way for her. “I suggest dispatching a ship to the periphery of the Lembatta Cluster, both to determine the exact cause of Starbase 91’s destruction and to investigate once and for all whether or not the Renao are behind these tragic events. What say you?”

  The unusual silence that had fallen over the council after watching the holovid ended rather abruptly. All across the chamber, delegates wanted to be heard. Akaar quickly took his seat and allowed the process to play out, tuning out the specifics in the hopes of a quick end result.

  After approximately one hour, the president raised her hand and stated for the record that a resolution had been passed, which marked the end of the session.

  Akaar got to his feet and remained standing while waiting for the president to leave the room. Once she departed the chamber, he went straight to the turbolift that would take him to the transporter station on the second floor of the Palais.

  Within a few minutes, he materialized in Transporter Bay 5 in Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, the closest one to his office in that edifice.

  His aide, a Vulcan lieutenant named Sendak, was waiting for him, studying the padd in his long-fingered hand. Akaar suspected that it displayed his schedule, which was about to be radically changed.

  “Sendak,” the admiral said as he stepped off the platform, “I need a ship.”

  7

  NOVEMBER 4, 2385

  U.S.S. Prometheus, docked a
t DS9

  Captain Richard Adams was sitting in his ready room going over the personnel files of the latest additions to the Prometheus crew when his intercom beeped and Ensign Amanda Harris, the beta-shift communications officer, said, “Bridge to captain.”

  Without taking his eyes off the screen where he had brought up the file for a Vulcan conn officer, Lieutenant T’Shanik, the captain said, “Adams here.”

  “Captain, we’re receiving a priority call from Starfleet Headquarters. It’s Admiral Akaar.”

  “Akaar?” For a moment, Adams entertained the notion that the Starfleet commandant commander was calling out of friendship. Adams had served under Captain Leonard James Akaar on the U.S.S. Wyoming more than thirty years ago. It had been his first post after graduating from the Academy, eventually advancing to deputy security chief on the Mediterranean-class starship.

  However, Akaar wouldn’t use a priority channel for a personal call to his former protégé. “Put him through, Ensign.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The file on the screen was replaced briefly by the Federation seal, and then by the face of the giant Capellan with his flowing white locks, sitting at his desk, fingers interlaced and a serious expression on his face.

  However, that serious expression modulated to a smile. “Dick.”

  “Leonard,” Adams replied, nodding.

  “It is good to see you, old friend. How are you?”

  “I can’t complain. It’s great being able to take a break after six months patrolling the Tzenkethi border. The crew really needs it.”

  “Did the Tzenkethi cause any trouble? Forgive me, but I haven’t had a chance to take more than a quick glance at the mission report.”

  “No more than expected. You know the Tzenkethi, they’re demanding neighbors.”

  His counterpart nodded sympathetically. In the early 2360s there had been a war between the Federation and the Tzenkethi Coalition. Unlike Adams, who had been serving as security chief aboard the deep-space explorer the U.S.S. Sutherland at the time, Akaar had been at the forefront of that conflict against the angelically beautiful, luminous figures whose culture was so contradictory to the Federation’s values that diplomacy had totally failed. These days, the Tzenkethi settled for straying into Federation territory with their tear-shaped ships every once in a while, although they seemed to have become more audacious since they joined the Typhon Pact.

  “How many encounters occurred?” the admiral asked.

  “We saw their ships every couple of days. Sometimes I had the impression they were trying to keep us busy. But we were only drawn into more serious incidents about a dozen times, although those usually involved chasing one of their Marauders out of orbit from one of our colonies. The Prometheus was never really in danger. Since her upgrading after the Borg invasion three years ago she’s been an even tougher nut to crack than before.”

  Akaar smiled. “That was the intention.” His expression turned serious again. “And that is one of two reasons why I’m contacting you today, Captain.”

  Adams felt his body tense. The conversation had just turned official. “Is there a problem, Admiral?”

  “More than that. We’re heading toward a galactic crisis at warp speed. It’s already all over the news here on Earth, so it won’t be long before it will reach Deep Space 9. So I thought it better coming from me.”

  Frowning, the captain leaned forward. “What in heaven’s name has happened?”

  Akaar explained it to him.

  Adams couldn’t help but clench his fists. He felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under his feet, and he was glad to be sitting at his desk. Starbase 91 destroyed. Four thousand deaths. “Karen…” he croaked.

  The admiral on the other side of the display paused. “What did you say?”

  Adams refocused his attention back to the image of his old mentor. He cleared his throat. “Were there any survivors, sir?”

  Akaar shook his head full of regret. “Not as far as we know, no. The U.S.S. Capitoline has been there briefly in order to take initial scans before she had to continue her journey on an important mission. The station and all docked ships—one of them being the U.S.S. Lakota—have been destroyed completely.”

  Distraught, Adams shook his head. “How am I going to explain that to her mother?”

  “Whose mother, Dick?”

  Adams took a deep breath. “My niece was stationed at Starbase 91. It was her first post since graduating. She was only twenty-six.”

  The admiral’s expression turned to one of grief. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Dick. I had no idea.” He paused for a moment. “There is a small chance that an escape pod was jettisoned, but the Capitoline didn’t pick up any homing beacons. Though one could be out there with a damaged beacon.”

  Akaar’s words expressed a glimmer of hope, but his eyes betrayed those words. He didn’t believe that for a second—and neither did Adams.

  “I appreciate the thought, Leonard, but I’m not going to get my hopes up. Karen is dead, just like all the others.” The captain tightened his jaw. He probably hadn’t been the perfect uncle to his sister Carol’s daughter. His duty in space had always come first, so at best they had all met up once a year. Still, he had always felt a special bond with Karen as she had been the only child in their family. What’s more, she was the only one from his sister’s family who had followed the call of the stars, just like him. And now the stars have killed her, he thought.

  No, not the stars. A bunch of lunatics.

  He straightened his back. “What is the Prometheus’s mission, Admiral?”

  “I want you to pick up where the Capitoline left off. Proceed at maximum speed to the scene of the disaster and find out what really happened there. We are in possession of a video with a claim of responsibility from a person who’s obviously a Renao. At the same time we have reports about increasing radicalization movements in the Lembatta Cluster.”

  That caught Adams’s attention. “Does that mean we had a warning that something like this might happen?”

  “No,” said Akaar. “Nobody could have expected such an attack. The station had no chance to issue an emergency call. That indicates that this attack happened with extreme speed and intensity. Renao technology shouldn’t be capable of that. Starbase 91 hardly had cutting-edge technology, but they should have been able to fend off such an attack—or at least put up more of a fight than they did.”

  “So you think there’s more to it than meets the eye?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “The Typhon Pact?”

  “We shouldn’t rule anything out at this stage, and the Tholians and Gorn are both proximate to the starbase’s position.”

  Adams nodded. While the Federation seemed to have been coming to some kind of understanding with the Romulans and the Gorn, at the very least, one never could be sure that the right hand knew what the left was doing when dealing with the members of the pact. Plus, the Tholians still maintained a hostile attitude toward the Federation.

  Akaar continued. “And that’s the reason why we’re sending Prometheus in particular. She’s one of the fastest ships in Starfleet, and she’s as powerful as a small squadron.”

  “So our mission is one of investigation?”

  “To begin with, yes. Your best starting point is to contact Onferin, the Renao homeworld, and question them.”

  “I’m a soldier, Admiral, not a diplomat. You know that.”

  The Capellan tilted his head. “That is why we are sending you a diplomat. The president will be dispatching an emissary, whom you will meet on Lembatta Prime. In addition, you have Lieutenant ak Namur on board with you. I saw him at the graduation ceremony last month.”

  “He rejoined us on Deep Space 9.”

  “He’s the only Renao in Starfleet, and he’s on your crew. Make use of him.”

  Adams wasn’t sure it would be that simple. When he was serving as an exchange officer, relations had deteriorated between the Federation and the Renao, a
nd several of ak Namur’s kin requested that he terminate his time on board. But the young man had fallen in love with deep space and had requested to attend Starfleet Academy. Adams had made that possible—but it had cost the Renao dearly. He had been forced to turn his back on everything the Renao people deemed sacred. It would likely be difficult for ak Namur to return to his old home in a situation like this.

  He’s a Starfleet officer now, Adams thought. He has to face this challenge just like the rest of us.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?” Akaar had apparently noticed Adams’s hesitation.

  “No, Admiral. No problem. You can count on us.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “We’re sending everything we have on the Renao in general and this attack in particular.”

  “All right.” Adams glanced at the chronometer that was mounted on the wall next to the door. “It’s 2100 ship’s time. I will recall all personnel and speed up our final repair work. We should be ready to depart when alpha shift begins tomorrow morning.”

  “Excellent.” Akaar sat up at his desk. “That will be all, Captain.” His hand moved toward the control panel on his desk to sign off. “Oh, and Dick… take care of yourself and your crew.”

  “I will,” Adams promised.

  “Good. Akaar out.”

  * * *

  “Thank you, Commander, for the guided tour on your ship,” said Miles O’Brien, the chief of operations from Deep Space 9, as they approached the lock he and his assistant Nog had used an hour earlier to come aboard. “I’ve always wanted to climb aboard a Prometheus-class starship. It’s always a privilege to visit the first ship of its kind. And the multivector assault mode is a damn fine piece of technology. I’d love to see it in action, and the same goes for your slipstream drive.”