But this wasn’t the time to ponder the friendly rivalries so common within Starfleet’s intelligence community. As long as he was drawing breath, the first order of business had to be survival.
“And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Vaughn said.
The Cardassian smiled ambiguously. “You may address me as Glinn Madred.”
“I hope you’ll forgive me for failing to salute,” Vaughn said. Come on, T’Prynn. Find a way to beam me out of here.
“We know that Starfleet Intelligence has been in communication with Cren Veruda for some time,” Madred said, ignoring Vaughn’s impertinence. “And that the good doctor has expressed a desire to seek his fortunes in the Federation.”
“Really. Then maybe it’s lucky that I happened to be in the neighborhood.”
A door slid open on the opposite side of the room, and a slim Cardassian woman of perhaps thirty-five years entered. Despite her neck and forehead scales and ashen skin, she struck Vaughn as stunningly attractive. But one look at her hard expression convinced him that she would be a far less forgiving interviewer than the glinn.
That impression was reinforced by the symbol of the Cardassian Obsidian Order on her gray uniform collar. Vaughn suddenly understood why Madred saw no need to raise his voice. He was leaving the prosaic chores of interrogation to less gentle hands.
“I would like you to meet your opposite number in the Cardassian intelligence service,” said Madred, bowing slightly toward the woman, whose almond-shaped eyes were fixed upon Vaughn’s.
“My name is Kree Omiturin,” she said. “Recently transferred to this evil-smelling backwater from Cardassia Prime.” Nemeti’s bitter tone made it plain that she regarded her current assignment as a demotion. And there was something else about her, too….
“Operative Omiturin will, ah, begin interviewing you shortly,” Madred said. “It’s always best to leave information extraction to the experts, don’t you think?”
“I think you’re selling yourself short, Madred,” Vaughn said. “I’m sure you have the makings of a fine torturer.”
“You and another Federation operative have come to this world hoping to spirit Dr. Veruda away,” Omiturin said.
Vaughn carefully blanked his face, well aware that she was scrutinizing him for his reactions. If the Cardassians had succeeded in killing or capturing T’Prynn, then he wasn’t about to give this woman the satisfaction of appearing surprised. Perhaps she was only fishing, with no actual knowledge of his colleagues in the field. He fervently hoped that this was the case.
The Cardassian woman continued. “What you’ve failed to understand, Mr. Vaughn, is that you’ve arrived too late to protect your people from Dr. Veruda’s invention. His artificial intelligence nodes are about to link up across the Cardassian Union and beyond via subspace relays. We’ll soon be in a position to mount and control an assault against the Federation the likes of which you can scarcely imagine.”
Madred cut in, his eyes narrowing in Vaughn’s direction. “Unfortunately for you, the good doctor’s expertise in devising countermeasures to his own creation will not be forthcoming.”
“I want to spend some time with the prisoner now,” Omiturin said, clearly not fond of being interrupted. “Alone.” Madred nodded impassively before exiting. Vaughn found himself alone in the room with the flint-eyed woman, his body still immobile as he contemplated the remaining hours of his life.
Now would be a good time to get me the hell out of here, T’Prynn. Assuming you’re still alive.
Omiturin approached the table on which he lay, studying him in silence. A hypospray was in her hand, as though conjured out of thin air. With surprising gentleness, she touched it to his neck. He listened to its contents hiss home.
“This will restore your mobility. And you’ll find a prison coverall in the locker beside the door. Put it on.”
Vaughn rose to a sitting position and got his legs unsteadily beneath him. The metal floor felt as cold as space against his bare feet.
She tossed him a Starfleet hand phaser. He caught it after bobbling it between his hands momentarily.
“I certainly felt naked without this,” he said, sparing a second to check the weapon’s charge before moving to the locker.
“Hurry,” she said as she made for the door.
“Why are you doing this?” Vaughn said, studying Omiturin’s hard, scaly features as they walked purposefully down the empty hallway. It was a relief to be clothed again, even if only in prison garb.
She smiled enigmatically. “If you’re as smart and resourceful as your after-action reports paint you, then I’m sure you’ll work it out on your own soon enough.”
Vaughn wasn’t surprised that the Cardassians had accessed his files. She was in the intelligence business, after all, just as he was.
“You forgot lucky,” he said. “Sometimes luck is an operative’s most important asset.”
“Really. With superstitions like that, it’s remarkable that you’ve made it to such an advanced age.”
“Ouch,” he said, returning her smile. “But my ‘advanced age’ tends to prove my point.”
Omiturin and Vaughn came to a stop outside an isolated holding cell at the end of a sterile, limestone-walled corridor. She typed a brief command sequence into the wall keypad, and the forcefield dropped in response. She entered the cell, prompting Vaughn to follow. On the floor in the far corner sat a slightly built elderly Cardassian man attired in a simple maroon prison coverall. Vaughn recognized him immediately.
Cren Veruda.
The cyberneticist looked up at them with rheumy eyes. “Is it time for another interview already?” His voice sounded like an older, defeated version of the A.I. that had taunted Vaughn shortly before his capture.
“No more interrogations today, Doctor,” Omiturin said.
Vaughn crouched beside the stick-thin scientist and gently helped him to his feet. “Easy, Doctor. I’m a Starfleet officer, and I’m getting you out of here.”
Veruda seemed to become more fully alert. “Ah. The Federation man. You came for me after all. When the Order discovered my plan to defect, I’d given up hope.”
“Hope’s the easy part,” Vaughn said, turning his gaze to Nemeti. “What’s hard is escaping undetected from a high-security Cardassian scientific research facility. Any thoughts on that, Ms. Omiturin?”
“I’ve got the security A.I. in diagnostic mode, and it’ll stay that way for another ninety-eight minutes. We have that long to reach the defense perimeter. Can your Lieutenant Commander T’Prynn beam us out from there?”
Vaughn nodded. “If she hasn’t been captured.”
“You needn’t worry about that,” she said as the trio moved down the corridor, apparently a hardened Cardassian officer conducting a pair of prisoners toward some unpleasant fate or other.
After evading four regular security patrols in and around the complex, the group entered the verdant jungle, shielding their eyes from the blazing sun. Although the terrain looked different in the dazzling light, Vaughn realized that they had reached the limit of the base’s security perimeter.
“You’re not really with the Order, are you?” Vaughn said as Omiturin opened a gap in the perimeter forcefield. “I’ll bet you’re not even a Cardassian.”
That seemed to rattle her for a second. But only for a second. She was good, but not perfect.
Moments later a transporter beam swept over him, and Vaughn found himself standing on the pads beside the two Cardassians.
T’Prynn swiveled her cockpit chair in order to face the transporter pads at the rear of the craft. Regarding the group impassively, she said, “It’s good to have you back, Commander Vaughn. I have already laid in and executed a course back to Federation space.”
Omiturin responded before Vaughn could get his mouth open. “Good work, Commander T’Prynn,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to escort Dr. Veruda aft. He needs to rest. We can debrief later.” The two Cardassians disappeared behind the scout vessel’s aft partition, leaving Vaughn standing on the transporter pad, scowling.
T’Prynn rose and approached him. “You appear to have something to say.”