“We need to find some way inside,” Komoraq said through gritted teeth as he bit back his mounting frustration. “If we’re unable to wrest control of this technology from the belly of this cursed planet, I’ll have destroyed a Federation freighter and forcibly evicted one of their colonies for nothing except my own amusement.”
He had been informed by his superiors that the High Council was not pleased with the methods he had employed to secure Lerais II in the aim of the empire. Though he had made the uncharacteristic gesture of sparing the Earther colonists and allowed them to evacuate the planet without incident, annihilating the freighter still had served to exacerbate the tense political situation with the Federation. Between his own actions and other incidents involving imperial and Starfleet ships in recent weeks, subspace communications were being choked with rumors of war with the empire’s longtime adversaries. While the Council seemed to welcome that possibility, they were proceeding with any planning toward that goal with a slowness that enraged Komoraq’s warrior blood. Still, there would be calls for increased vigilance to protect Klingon interests in the Gonmog Sector as more Federation ships came to the region. There would soon be other, more pressing duties to which he and his crew must attend. With that came the likelihood that another, less deserving commander of some other, less distinguished battle cruiser might seize for his own uses what Komoraq himself had failed to secure.
For the first time since he had entered the chamber, Komoraq felt his wife’s hand on his arm. “We will find a way, my husband,” Lorka said, “but you know that I cannot make any reliable estimates. These types of mysteries are not typically solved on any discernible timetable.”
Pausing, she added, “The artifacts we found on Mirdonyae V are in better condition. The planet is also more isolated than this one. We should continue our research there.”
Komoraq emitted a dissatisfied grunt. “Unfortunately, my wife, even your best efforts may not be good enough.” No, he decided, they needed something more, something that had been unavailable to them. Offering his beloved wife a leering grin, he felt a small rush of anticipation as he considered how best to proceed. “What we need just now is a fresh perspective.”
17
INTERLUDE
Pain and exhaustion gripped the Shedai Wanderer, threatening to crush the withering vestiges of life to which she clung as she all but fell to the dead world that was her destination.
Without the Conduit to guide and support her, it had taken nearly all of the energy she had been able to gather during her exile on the distant moon even to reach this far. By the standards of travel to which she long ago had become accustomed, journeying to this planet should have been simple. She knew it to be on par with the sort of exercise a mentor might give to a child just learning to control the great powers commanded by the Shedai. Instead, the voyage had drained most of her strength, nearly leaving her stranded without corporeal existence and dispersed to the void between stars.
She took in her surroundings, searching her memories for information on the world she would now call home, at least until she regained enough strength to make another attempt at travel. Like the moon she had left behind, this planet also was lifeless, though for much different reasons. All around her, the Wanderer saw remnants of the civilization that once had thrived here. The ruins of a great city stretched to the horizon in all directions, the artificial structures and other technological constructs lying abandoned and crumbling for aeons, if her memory served her. Far above, the sky was black and brilliant, though it and the stars that filled her vision carried a crimson tinge, owing to the large red sun dominating the spectacular scene. The planet’s atmosphere had been burned away, a casualty of the nearby star having gone nova, an event that likely had snuffed out this world’s population in an instant.
It took a moment, but in short order, the stories came forth from her memory. A great empire—Tkon, the Wanderer now recalled—had once owned this planet. Now all but extinct, its influence had covered a vast segment of space, nearly rivaling that of the Shedai. The Tkon, according to the legends, were but one of the very few peoples to resist any effort at conquest, including submitting to the will of the Shedai. Tales and folklore regarded them as a more than worthy adversary. Had they survived the disaster that had befallen their homeworld, they might well have unseated the Shedai as the dominant power in this area of the galaxy. While legends suggested that some paltry shadows of the once-mighty Tkon people might still remain scattered through space, their empire would never rise again.
Unlike the Tkon, the Wanderer knew, the Shedai would return. When that might happen remained uncertain, of course, as did the nature of their resurgence, but that they would emerge once again to stake claim to their place as rightful rulers was not in doubt.
Whether the Shedai would be worthy of that authority was also a question demanding resolution. After all, the galaxy had changed, evolved, while the Shedai had lain dormant. Would the civilizations that had emerged and advanced during that time willingly subjugate themselves to such rule? Based on what she had seen just since her own awakening, the Wanderer found this unlikely. Despite her unwavering loyalty to the Enumerated Ones, she also had learned to doubt the inherent assumption that all others existed simply to serve the Shedai. Such thinking was dangerous, she knew, and would not endear her to the Serrataalwhen they finally returned. That did nothing to keep the thoughts from taking hold in her mind, commanding her focus and requiring answers.
Dishonorable notions and other ephemera were pushed aside without warning as the Wanderer realized that something else was drawing her attention. Another presence, distant and faint but still detectable, called out across the Void.
The Apostate. As I roam free, so, too, does my enemy.
Directing a few precious strands of the depleted energy she had strived so untiringly to gather, the Wanderer reached out, pushing past faraway stars in search of her adversary. Her mind tingled with the fleeting contact, and in that instant, she knew that the Apostate had done as she had feared and as the Maker had warned them all. Deception and treachery were the ways of the Apostate, and he had exercised them with utmost effectiveness. He had removed the Enumerated Ones and the key to their power from this spatial plane under the pretense of forcing the Shedai to an evolving galaxy. Now he was free to pursue his true agenda, whatever that might be.
The Wanderer had known fear only on rare occasions throughout her long life, but nothing she ever had experienced could compare to the terror she felt at the thought of facing the Apostate again. She knew that their next meeting, wherever and whenever it took place, would likely be her end. Her only hope was the return of the Enumerated Ones from whatever distant realm they now inhabited.
Where are you?
18
Jon Cooper exited his office at a full run, mere heartbeats after the first red-alert siren echoed through Vanguard’s command center. The din lasted only a moment, as he saw Lieutenant Haniff Jackson signal toward Lieutenant Judy Dunbar, the center’s communications officer and his companion on the supervisor’s deck.
“Shut that off!” Jackson shouted over the alarms. “Call battle stations.”