Distant Early Warning

by Dayton Ward

  Instead, seated as he was across from Reyes in the commodore’s office, itself situated high atop the command tower of Starbase 47, Okagawa merely chuckled.

  “Not sure I see the humor in this, Captain,” Reyes said, the words coming out more a growl than actual speech. His scowl deepening, he added, “I can appreciate unorthodox thinking and pulling miraculous solutions out of thin air in the nick of time. I just don’t like them employed when the safety of my people is on the line.”

  “Lieutenant al-Khaled isn’t some sort of show-off, I assure you,” Okagawa replied, letting his smile fade. “In addition to being one hell of a gifted engineer, he’s also one of the most thoughtful and dedicated people I’ve ever met. He purged the atmosphere only when it became his last, best option, and it worked just as he thought it would.”

  “I’m thankful it did, don’t get me wrong,” Reyes said, “but I don’t need a stunt show next time.”

  As the commodore emitted a deep, irritated sigh, Okagawa could not help but note the similarities as well as the stark differences between them. Reyes was a bit older, with only a few more years of service to Starfleet. Physically, the two were matched in their salt-and-pepper hair that boasted closely cropped regulation styles, but where the shorter, stocky Okagawa had kept much of his round, boyish face, Reyes’s lean, muscular body and somewhat weathered visage seemed as put-upon as the man’s attitude. There was no mistaking at first glance that Diego Reyes was all business, and Okagawa’s nature just could not prevent him from verbally jousting with the commodore, if only slightly, in spite of that observation.

  “Sir,” the captain said, “I get this feeling that you’re not upset so much about al-Khaled’s irregular approach to problem solving as you are to my people needing to be here in the first place.”

  Cocking his head, Reyes narrowed his eyes. “Quite the judge of character, Captain. Were you a psychiatrist before taking the command track?”

  Okagawa chuckled again. “More like I skipped the class on nurturing my control issues.” Seeing renewed irritation in the commodore’s eyes, he added, “Sir, I know you’ve got a lot going on out here. I don’t know all the specifics, but it doesn’t take much to figure that it must be important to put a project as big as this station on the fast track to completion. I’m not here to get on your nerves, Commodore. I just want to do my job, which in this case is bringing my people in to assist your crew to get this place up and running so that you can do your job, whatever the hell it is. Once that’s done, we’re off to another glorious assignment carving a tunnel through an asteroid or fixing the toilets on some remote outpost.”

  He had come to enjoy the act of disarming superior officers. Such situations almost always began in much the same manner as his meeting with Reyes, with the other officer giving him the same combination of raised brows and suspicious frown that the commodore displayed. A lot of them also folded their arms across their chests and regarded him warily even as they began to sway to Okagawa’s side of the table.

  Leaning back in his chair, Reyes now regarded him in just that fashion.

  “I’m not unappreciative,” the commodore said. “It’s obvious that your people know their jobs. I knew that even before you got here.” He waved a hand in Okagawa’s direction. “That repair and salvage job you did at Outpost Five near the Neutral Zone was a very nice piece of work. But, you’re right that I’m not thrilled with the idea of your crew running around my station and putting out our fires. We should be able to do that ourselves.”

  “Never thought otherwise,” Okagawa replied, settling back into his own seat. Since the Lovell’s arrival at Starbase 47 the previous day, nearly every member of his engineering staff had been involved with the numerous systemic problems afflicting the station. He had reviewed status reports from his first officer as funneled upward from the engineering teams and so was well aware of the proficiency and effectiveness of the station’s own complement of engineers. “The ability of anyone—from either team—to carry out their respective responsibilities isn’t the problem here, I think.”

  Reyes offered a tired, humorless chuckle of his own. “The problems are pretty simple: Nothing works.”

  Lacing his fingers together, Okagawa replied, “Ah, but nothing works all at once. You’ve read the reports from your own chief engineer and his staff. While they started out hammering away at individual issues as soon as they cropped up, it didn’t take them long to figure out that they were only treating symptoms. You don’t have hundreds of problems, Commodore, you have one. We need to concentrate on finding the overall cause.”

  Reyes nodded, listening to the observations. “Not seeing the forest for the trees, you mean?”

  Shrugging, Okagawa said, “Well, you’re in the middle of a lot of trees here.”

  The commodore reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if mounting a futile attempt to ward off an onrushing headache. “You have no idea.” After a moment, he exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry, Captain. Operational security, need to know. I’m sure you understand.”

  Okagawa already knew enough about Reyes to dissuade himself from requesting too many details about Starfleet’s intensifying interest in the Taurus Reach. Starbase 47’s sheer size and commensurate command of resources and personnel was an unquestioned asset to the Federation’s colonization and exploration efforts in this region. Still, Okagawa had to wonder: Why now, and with so much apparent verve? Though he had seen the official reports detailing the station’s construction and its accelerated schedule, they offered no insights as to the reasons behind the initiative.

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  “I imagine it’s a handful,” he offered with more than a hint of sympathy.

  Reyes sighed. “Let’s just say that I know I’ve got problems when the easiest thing I have to deal with at the moment is theft from a couple of my cargo bays.” Shaking his head, he added, “Seems that either the station’s civilian population is harboring a criminal element, or I’ve got at least one member of my crew who’s gone missing and maybe even looking to score a few extra credits by selling Starfleet materiel on the black market, or a combination of the two.”

  Such petty crime was commonplace on border outposts and remote colony worlds, Okagawa knew, particularly those located adjacent to neutral territory such as that traveled by vessels of the notorious Orion Syndicate or the incongruously named Merchant’s Guild operating on and near the nonaligned planet Arcturus. It was no surprise that Reyes would be dealing with similar problems out here, far from the Federation’s typical security and protection. That a Starfleet officer might be involved was surprising, of course, though unfortunately not completely unprecedented.

  “You should consider yourself lucky,” Reyes added after a moment. “Right now, I think there are worse career options than traveling from outpost to colony to starbase, trying to keep that rattletrap ship of yours from blowing apart at the seams.” For the first time, there was a hint of good-natured ribbing in his expression.

  Okagawa offered a mock salute. “Quite right, sir. The Lovell’s an awfully tempting target for comics and pundits alike, but at least her onboard systems are working.” Naturally, he at first had been horrified upon learning the particulars of his newest command. It, like its two counterparts currently attached to the Corps of Engineers, were without exception relics from a bygone era. According to Starfleet records, the last Daedalus-class vessel had officially been retired from service nearly seventy years previously.

  “I understand those Daedalus ships are all Starfleet would give the Corps,” Reyes said.

  Okagawa replied, “Not exactly. They didn’t give anything except permission to scrounge around a few storage depots for whatever the engineering teams thought would work best for hauling their equipment from place to place. It was decided that the Lovell and two other Daedalus tubs best fit the bill from what was available. Still, with a crew of engineers tinkering their little hearts out between assignments, you can be s
ure the Lovell is about as close to its original specs as you and I are compared to our Academy portraits.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “I’d be happy to give you the two-credit tour, Commodore.”

  When Reyes laughed this time, it was with genuine humor. “Fix my station and loan me an environmental suit while I’m there and maybe we have a deal.”

  “You seem pretty worried for someone who served on an old Drexler-class frigate,” Okagawa said. “Those weren’t too far removed from their Daedalus predecessors, and I’m sure Captain Matuzas would choke on his Dramian weed tea to hear you speak ill of the Helios.”

  His brow furrowing in confusion, Reyes regarded him with renewed interest. “Seems you’ve done your homework, digging up that old posting of mine.”

  “Didn’t have to do much,” Okagawa replied. “You and I were posted to the Helios at the same time.” Shrugging, he added, “Of course, our tours overlapped for a grand total of twelve days. You were a short-timer when I arrived, on your way to the…Belleau Wood, if I recall correctly.”

  “You do,” Reyes said, nodding in appreciation. “I’ll be damned. Another graduate of the Matuzas School of Starship Command. That’s interesting to know.”

  Okagawa laughed. “We’ll have to trade some stories. I guess his command style rubbed off on me.”

  Reyes narrowed his eyes. “Afraid I can’t say the same.”

  Well, that does make a lot of sense, Okagawa admitted to himself. Captain Matuzas’s very relaxed approach to command had run contrary to just about everything in every Starfleet rulebook Okagawa had ever come across, a character trait that had given many superior officers cause for concern. Still, the man had gotten results, had produced numerous officers who in turn had gone on to outstanding careers of their own, and his record of accomplishments was such that there had never been any real justification for taking issue with his leadership approach.

  For his part, Okagawa had thrived under those conditions while serving on the Helios, but he wondered whether Reyes—given his own distinct demeanor—might have found such an atmosphere discomforting during his early career and as a result sought a transfer all those years ago to another starship with a more traditional captain.

  Another bit of “need-to-know” information, I’m sure.

  What had become an uncomfortable silence between the two men abruptly was broken by the whistle of the internal communications system. “Cooper to Commodore Reyes,” said a voice from the intercom unit set into the top of Reyes’s desk.

  “My exec,” the commodore said as he reached across the polished surface and pressed the control to activate the unit. “Reyes here.”

  “I’m down in sensor control, sir,” the station’s first officer said. “We’ve just lost alignment on the lateral sensor array again. Long-range telemetry and processing are offline, and short-range is twitchy, too.”

  “Damn,” Reyes growled as he rubbed his temples. “Same thing as before?”

  “Affirmative,” Cooper replied. “One minute they were fine, the next they were out. It’s like someone flipped a switch. I’ve already issued a hold on all scheduled incoming and outbound traffic.”

  Reyes shook his head, his expression one of disgust. “Keep me updated. Reyes out.” Terminating the connection, the commodore turned to look at Okagawa. “Your crew just got a new ‘job one’ on the shopping list, Captain. I need that sensor array up and running yesterday. Everything else is secondary priority.”

  Sensing he was about to be dismissed anyway, Okagawa rose from his chair. “I’ll notify Lieutenant al-Khaled and have him report directly to Commander Cooper. By the time my people are done, this station will be running like a top, and those sensors will be able to read the hull number of a starship two sectors away.” It was a flagrant boast, he knew, but one he did not mind making. When it came to solving any manner of technical problem or anomaly, he would stack al-Khaled and his team against any engineers in Starfleet.

  No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the overhead illumination in Reyes’s office flickered before going out altogether. He and the commodore stood in near darkness as the emergency lighting mounted over the door activated, casting the room in muted ruby shadows. For the first time since his arrival, Okagawa became aware of the gentle whir of the ventilation system.

  Reyes’s laugh echoed in the darkened office. “An omen, of course.”

  “Oh, of course,” Okagawa replied.

  Chapter

  3

  “Now this is my kind of place.”

  Lieutenant Jessica Diamond looked over to see Commander Araev zh’Rhun actually slap her hands together as she made the comment, her eyes wide as she took in their new surroundings. It was atypical behavior on the part of the Lovell’s Andorian executive officer, who in Diamond’s experience normally maintained a reserved demeanor. In all the time she had known zh’Rhun, the commander’s only professional lapses had come as presented by her understated, deadpan sense of humor, which she often used to scathing effect. Seeing her now, her expression one of near wanton amusement, was a refreshing change in Diamond’s eyes.

  In contrast, the weapons officer struggled to keep her own expression neutral as she surveyed the gambling deck of the Omari-Ekon, an Orion merchant ship and one of a handful Starfleet and civilian vessels currently making use of Starbase 47’s external docking ports. Unlike even the liveliest of the establishments the two women had visited during their tour of Stars Landing, the station’s commercial, entertainment, and residential district, the current surroundings appeared to be all but consumed by a festive atmosphere.

  Music filled the room, complementing rather than drowning out the chorus of electronic gaming machines and those who played them. A haze of smoke lingered in the air, a combination of various tobaccos—some faint and pleasant, others thick and noxious. Diamond’s eyes moved about the expansive parlor, studying the people gathered around tables and playing or watching assorted games of chance. She heard both the laughter and celebration of the winners and the groans of disappointment and frustration of the losers. Scattered among the crowd of revelers were several scantily clad females—most of them Orion, though Diamond thought at least one or two might be human—fawning mostly over male customers but also more than a few of the female clientele as well.

  “Disgusting,” she said, mindful to keep her voice low lest her criticism carry to unwelcome ears. Still, the idea of anyone—male or female—objectifying themselves in the name of entertaining a client was not something that normally sat well with her.

  Glancing sideways at her, zh’Rhun offered a sly smile, her white teeth contrasting with her powder-blue skin. The look of mischief was only enhanced by the slow, curving decline of the twin antennae sticking out from beneath her pallid hair. “Why, Lieutenant, you never struck me as a prude.”

  “I’m not,” Diamond replied, to her ears perhaps a bit too quickly. “If all involved parties are consenting, I’m all for anything.” She nodded toward where one sultry Orion woman sat in the lap of a burly Tellarite, with only a single strap and perhaps a rogue gravity flux keeping her wisp of a dress attached to her toned, taut body. “Those women aren’t doing this because they want to.”

  Her frown deepened when she heard zh’Rhun laugh. “Lieutenant, if you really believe that, then you’ve got a lot to learn about Orion society and social mores.” Looking around for a moment before apparently seeing whatever it was she sought, the Andorian touched Diamond on the arm. “This way.”

  “It also occurs to me,” Diamond said as she followed the commander deeper into the room, “that we’re the only Starfleet personnel here.” Indeed, she had scanned the room for signs of familiar uniforms, but found none. Only Commander zh’Rhun and herself, both dressed in regulation gold tunics and black trousers, appeared to be representing Starfleet within the confines of this establishment on this particular evening.

  For her part, zh’Rhun shrugged. “It’s early, yet. Maybe things will pick up after t
he shift change. It’s not as though this establishment is off limits.”

  Diamond nodded, reaching up to push a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair from her eyes. Before departing the Lovell, she had reviewed Starbase 47’s regulations regarding the various civilian establishments and seen no notices preventing Starfleet personnel from visiting any of them. Likewise, there had been no restrictions on any of the vessels currently docked at the station.

  “Besides,” the commander said, indicating the gaming parlor with a nod of her head and another impish smile, “it just means we’ve got the place to ourselves for a while.”

  Looking in the specified direction, Diamond almost did a double take. Reclined atop a pile of cushions and pillows was a humanoid female, someone of obvious wealth or importance—or both—who at the moment was the focus of attention of four large Orion males, all of whom were shirtless and with an assortment of tattoos and piercings accentuating their well-defined physiques. Two of the men flanked the woman on the cushions, one holding a plate of fruit while the other rubbed her feet with some kind of oil. The remaining two Orions stood to either side of her, one holding a silver goblet while the other carried a tray atop which sat a pair of towels and a small basin.

  “All right,” Diamond said, shrugging as she took in the scene. “I could probably get used to that.”

  As they moved past the woman and her consorts, zh’Rhun laughed again. “Relax, Lieutenant. One of the disadvantages of being assigned to a ship staffed by engineers is that when there’s a mission that requires only the engineers, the rest of us have to find something interesting to do. How often does a situation like that come along and we get a chance to do nothing but enjoy ourselves?”

  Nearing the bar situated at the center of the parlor, they found space between two disparate groups of customers—some human and others not, but all taking full advantage of the gambling deck’s joyous ambiance. After placing an order with the Arcturian working behind the bar, zh’Rhun turned to look at Diamond, leaning close so she could be heard over the boisterous patrons around them. “Enjoy yourself, Jessica. This’ll be fun. Besides, you’ve more than earned a bit of downtime.”