There were only a few of the vermin infesting the planet, the Wanderer knew, along with many more in proximity to the planet, contained within the pathetic vessel in which they traveled among the stars. Still, she sensed the effects of their presence, as she had on the worlds throughout the realm where she had encountered their kind. Once again, they had overstepped their bounds, taking it upon themselves to insert themselves where they did not and would not ever belong. Even in her weakened state, exterminating them would require almost no effort. The Telinaruulwere not what had compelled her
Drawn here by the fearsome, unexplained Voice that had resonated through what remained of the Conduits, the Wanderer had expected to find the Telinaruulhaving somehow discovered a means of using Shedai power for their own ends. Whatever had reached out to her across the vast gulfs separating stars was here no longer. Probing the dormant mechanisms left behind by the Shedai ages ago, she sensed only the residue of the Voice’s passing. If it had originated here, how had it been able to leave? As far as the Wanderer knew, only she possessed the ability to travel among the stars without benefit of the Conduits. Was this some secret harbored by the Makers? If so, for what purpose had they confined this knowledge only to themselves?
Even the vestiges of the unidentified presence carried with them a foreboding that shook every fiber of the Wanderer’s being. There could be no mistaking its malevolence, which even after its passing remained entwined with everything it had touched. The dread it seemed driven to summon was palpable, reaching out from the depths of darkness as it searched for… something.
Feeling the energy of the planet responding to her commands, the Wanderer now knew what she must do. The Voice, whatever it might represent, was an evil without equal, surpassing even that of the Apostate. It, and anything it touched, must be eradicated at all costs.
That purging would begin here.
58
“The three of us are going to have to stop meeting like this,” Nogura said as he entered his office to find Ambassador Jetanien and Commander Cooper waiting for him. “People are going to start talking.”
The ambassador, dressed as always in the robes of his office, replied, “Thank you for meeting with me so late in the evening, Admiral.”
Walking around his visitors on his way to the food slot on the back wall, Nogura shrugged. “I’d only been asleep for two or three hours, anyway. If we’re going to keep doing this, we should at least play poker or something.” He reached for one of the data cards on the small shelf next to the food slot, selected one, and inserted it into the unit’s reader before keying a command sequence. A moment later, the food slot’s door slid up, revealing a cup of steaming coffee on a saucer. Glancing over his shoulder at Cooper, he waved the executive officer to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Commander, I take it you’re an insomniac in training as well?”
“It sort of comes with the job, Admiral,” Cooper replied, his smile belying the fatigue Nogura saw in the man’s eyes. The commander was right, of course; one did not assume the mantle of command if he looked forward to catching a lot of beauty sleep.
“What can I do for you, Ambassador?” Nogura asked as he took his coffee and made his way to his desk.
His manus clicking as though he might be anxious, Jetanien said, “The Klingons are very angry, Admiral.”
Nogura paused in the act of bringing the cup of coffee to his lips. “That’s why you got me out of bed? Because the Klingons are angry?” He looked to Cooper. “Make a note of that, Commander. The Klingons are angry. While you’re at it, I’d like an update on the status of the station’s water supply. Is it still wet?”
“This is anything but a joking matter, Admiral,” Jetanien said, punctuating his rebuttal with a series of irritated clicks and grunts.
Waiting until he had savored the first sip of coffee—and making a mental note to commend the station’s chief engineer, Lieutenant Farber, for seeing to it that the food slot was able to prepare his favorite blend properly—Nogura returned the cup to its saucer and leaned back in his chair to regard Jetanien. “Perhaps you could be a bit more specific, Ambassador?”
Jetanien stepped closer, until he stood behind the other chair in front of Nogura’s desk. “Specifically, the Klingons are unhappy about what happened at Mirdonyae V.”
“Ah,” Nogura replied, nodding. “Well, they should probably take that up with the Shedai. They’re the ones who left a global self-destruct system lying around without an owner’s manual.” He had read the report from Captain Khatami the previous evening, which detailed the Endeavourdoubling back to the planet after departing in the wake of the successful rescue of Lieutenant Xiong. The starship’s sensors had detected the shock wave emanating from the Mirdonyae system, and Khatami and her crew had seen with their own eyes the vast, expanding field of debris that was all that remained of the fifth planet. By all accounts, the Klingon contingent on Mirdonyae V had fallen victim to its own arrogance and carelessness.
“What I don’t understand,” Nogura said, “is how the Klingons were able to achieve that level of access to the weapons systems, or anything else, for that matter. According to Xiong, they’d only managed moderate success before kidnapping him.”
“They must have been paying attention as Xiong worked,” Jetanien replied. “Not that it matters, as they’re claiming we triggered the self-destruct, that our people used it as a last-ditch act of desperation when it became evident that they could not defeat the Klingon vessel on their own.” He punctuated the comment with what sounded like a belch. “In doing so, they slaughtered a number of Klingons who were not party to the combat, to say nothing of destroying an entire world that the Klingons had claimed in the name of the empire.”
“And somehow managed to avoid getting destroyed or at least severely damaged along with the Klingon ship still in orbit when the planet blew?” Nogura asked, rolling his eyes. “That’s some trick.” Turning to Cooper, he asked, “Commander, I assume the Endeavour’s sensor logs corroborate Captain Khatami’s accounting of the events?”
Cooper nodded. “Absolutely, sir. The Endeavourwas well under way when the incident occurred and only knew what happened because sensors picked up the gravimetric disturbance while they were tracking for signs of Klingon pursuit.”
That was consistent with Khatami’s report, Nogura knew. Her theory was that the Klingon contingent on the planet somehow had accessed the Shedai planetary defense system they believed to be hidden far beneath the surface, perhaps in a bid to bring those weapons to bear against the Endeavour.Their unfamiliarity with the technology had almost certainly been their undoing.
“There is the matter of a Starfleet ship attacking a Klingon target,” Jetanien said. “Naturally, comparisons are already being drawn to what happened on Gamma Tauri IV.”
“Outrageous comparisons, to be sure,” Nogura countered. Starfleet’s public-relations machine had never fully recovered from the black eye inflicted by the tragic, if necessary, actions taken by Commodore Reyes on that occasion. They, along with the merciless dissection of Starfleet’s military policies and rampant debate regarding the appropriateness of such power and authority given to Starfleet officers, had raged through media outlets for weeks after the incident.