Nogura shook his head. “They’ve made improvements, yes, but according to Commander Spock, there are still some weaknesses to be exploited. He was able to track the Romulan vessel even while it was cloaked, but only after he knew what to look for. What we don’t know is whether the Romulan ship figured this out and communicated it back to its home base. If it did, then you can bet that Romulan scientists are already working to figure out where they went wrong so they can fix the problem and improve the cloaking technology even further.”
“I take it neither the cloaking nor the weapons technology was salvageable after the Enterprise’s encounter?” Jetanien asked.
“No,” Nogura replied. “The Romulan commander set his ship to self-destruct after it was disabled. Preliminary analysis of the hull remnants found near Palgrenax indicates a similar fate for that vessel.”
Cooper shook his head. “If the Romulans are in the Taurus Reach, then they’re interested in a lot more than just testing our borders.”
“Agreed,” Nogura replied. “Naturally, no formal means of communicating with their government are in place, so we’ve no way of contacting them and hearing their official denial of any activity in Federation space.”
“Well,” Cooper said, “they got wind that we’re up to something out here somehow, sir.”
Jetanien released a series of sharp clicks to indicate his agreement. “The commander is right, Admiral. They must obviously have suspicions about our own presence here. The challenge we now face is determining how much they know and how they are getting their information.”
“Oh, yes,” Nogura said, as though remembering that his wastebasket required emptying, “there’s one morething. It seems that Romulans bear a striking resemblance to Vulcans. In fact, and again according to the Enterprisescience officer, it’s entirely possible that the two races are related.”
“Good God,” Cooper said, his mouth falling open in unrestrained shock. “We have evidence of this?”
The admiral shrugged. “It’s supposition at this point, but Vulcan High Command is verifying Commander Spock’s report. Begrudgingly, I might add. It would appear that this is a sore subject with those Vulcans who are even aware of the connection.”
Shaking his head, Jetanien tried to imagine the impact such a revelation might currently be having on the Vulcan people, to say nothing of how this might be viewed by their interstellar neighbors. As a long-valued ally of Earth and a founding member of the Federation, would Vulcan and its storied civilization now be looked upon with suspicion and fear by those once called friends? The ambassador suspected that such paranoia would be short-lived, owing in large part to the very loyalty and trust that had been forged over nearly a century before the Earth-Romulan War and only strengthened as that conflict was waged.
“If they were reluctant to talk about it before,” Cooper said, “I can only imagine what they’ll be like once Starfleet Intelligence gets on this.”
“Indeed,” Jetanien added. “They doubtless are already considering the possibility of Romulan spies in our midst, possibly posing as Vulcans. That they may have had such operatives among us for more than a century will only add to their anxiety.” It would, Jetanien believed, be little different from what Starfleet currently faced with respect to the rampant rumors of surgically altered Klingon agents operating in Federation space.
Nogura rose from his chair, clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled from behind his desk. “If you’re saying our lives just became a good deal more complicated, Ambassador, then I’m afraid I’ll have to add understatement to the long and distinguished list of skills you seem to possess.”
Jetanien grunted, ignoring the admiral’s gentle wit. As if his own mission here was not difficult enough, the ramifications of yet another interstellar power vying for the secrets of the Shedai were almost too much to contemplate.
And yet, at the same time, the Chel could not resist considering the challenges and even rewards for whoever might forge some new foundation of understanding and—dare he think it—cooperative spirit between the Federation and another longtime adversary.
Intriguing,he thought, to say the least.
26
“Well, if there’s any added bonus to getting you out of the brig,” said Desai as she studied Reyes, a smile playing at her lips and a mischievous glint in her eyes, “it’s that they let you change clothes. Orange most definitely was notyour color.”
The commodore said nothing as he retrieved two cups of coffee from the food slot in his quarters. “I’m just happy to be getting decent coffee again. It took weeks for Farber and his crew of engineers to get that damned thing working right.” Setting one of the cups near Desai’s right arm, he took his own coffee and moved to a chair on the opposite side of the small, oval-shaped dining table in one corner of his quarters. With a sigh, he lowered himself into the chair, leaned back, and sipped the steaming beverage. It was his own personal recipe, derived after weeks of fine-tuning the food slot’s programming with the help of the talented wizard Isaiah Farber. After placing his cup on the table, he moved his hand to smooth the lines of his gold uniform tunic. He had to admit that the familiar material felt good against his skin. Seeing himself in the mirror after he had finished dressing that morning, he almost had begun to feel like his old self.
Almost but not quite.
Looking around, Reyes was struck by the seeming immensity of his quarters. During the months he had spent here—before his extended stay in the station’s brig—the rooms assigned to him as his home away from home had always felt even more like a prison than the one from which he had recently been released. Now the suite felt cavernous. It was a natural reaction, given the length of his incarceration, which had been terminated and replaced with house arrest at the order of Admiral Moratino. It was far better than the brig, but of course, he was anything but free. The presence of the security guards outside his door, along with the requirement that he remain confined to his quarters except for agreed-upon sojourns to the station’s fitness center—which could occur only during a set time when no other personnel were utilizing the facility—shattered any such illusion.
“I’m guessing that even though the admiral showed me this little bit of mercy,” Reyes said as he held his coffee mug between his hands, “I can’t count on her having a soft spot for me, can I?”
Looking up from one of the data states on the table before her, Desai regarded Reyes with a frown of mock irritation as she reached for her coffee. “Hardly, Diego. Admiral Moratino will follow the regulations to the letter, but she’s also fair. She has no problem exercising any option or leeway available to her under the Uniform Code.”
Reyes nodded, thankful for his judge’s apparent compassion, especially given that she had also granted Captain Sereb a thirty-day continuance in order to meet his stated requirement to interview and depose numerous Vanguard personnel. The outspoken Tellarite attorney naturally had protested Desai’s resulting request to have Reyes moved to house arrest, using as justification the severity of the charges against the commodore. Admiral Moratino had sided with Desai, given that Reyes—at the present time—only stood accused of the crimes listed against him. Until and unless he actually was convicted of the charges, the judge had seen no need to treat him with anything less than the respect due a Starfleet flag officer. However, even before Reyes could release a sigh of relief at that decision, Moratino had made it clear that neither he nor Desai should view it as any sort of bias in favor of the commodore.
I’ll take what I can get.