“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” said Garrett. “We searched that shuttle. Are you telling me that you found things we didn’t? How? Where?”
“Intelligence operatives are trained to look for that which has been overlooked,” said Sivek. He had the computer display a star chart on the conference room’s viewscreen. “I have to apologize, Captain. These will necessarily be crude because they’ve not been completely analyzed. In addition, I’m not at liberty to reveal the entire contents of the files we uncovered. This might be a little confusing, or you might find there to be leaps in logic. That can’t be helped.”
“Thanks,” said Garrett. “I’ll try to bear up.”
“First, from Commander Halak’s personal logs: this is a map of sectors seventeen through nineteen.”
Garrett’s expert eyes scanned the chart. “Ryn space.”
“Precisely. Stardate markers indicate that was recorded nine months ago. Now, here,” the Vulcan indicated a yellow-coded star system, “is the Ryn system: the Ryn sun, Ryn III, and its two moons. And here, these green ellipses, you see the range of Ryn scout vessels, their patrol routes, and the orbital paths of planetary security systems.”
“What are those other points?” asked Garrett. She pointed at five red, inverted triangles. “Are those satellites?”
“No. Those are drop-off points: distribution nodes, if you will.”
“For?”
“Red ice. Extrapolating back from vessels commandeered at various Federation security checkpoints, these coordinates match with our projected points of origin.”
“So you’re saying those smugglers originated in Ryn space at those precise coordinates.” Garrett saw where this was going. Almost peripherally, she noted that Halak hadn’t uttered a word of protest since the Vulcan had begun. “And the records you retrieved from the shuttle Halak got on Farius Prime?”
“As I’ve said, I can’t reveal everything. Here is, however, a representative sample. Computer, display File Sivek Exhibit 7-A.”
The image on the viewscreen dissolved into soft focus to be replaced by a graphical display of what Garrett saw at once was not a star system but an entire sector. She picked out markers that could only be ships scattered in and around various star systems and nebulae. At first she didn’t recognize the region of space, but then she spotted a marker for Starbase 129 and she knew exactly what she was looking at. “That’s the Federation border with Cardassian space. Starbase 129 is a listening post.”
Her eyes swiveled to Sivek. “Those records are classified. Command level.”
“More than classified, Captain. They’re top secret, property of Starfleet Intelligence, available only to select command personnel such as yourself.” Sivek let that hang in the air a moment then proceeded. “Computer, start animation.
“Here,” said Sivek, as markers denoting Cardassian ships advanced and retreated, “is what Starfleet has gathered so far on Cardassian movements in the area. As you can see, they have sufficient ships to maintain fairly tight surveillance of their border, with the exception of this area here.”
He tapped the viewscreen with his finger. “Grid 28. The Cardassians are rather sparse there, perhaps because there’s a nebula. Hard to get accurate readings.”
Garrett didn’t offer her opinion that if she were in command of the Cardassian patrols, she’d double her patrols, not decrease them. A nebula was a good place for a smuggler—or anyone—to hide. She knew from experience: when she’d been the Carthage’s XO and nearly flattened her shuttle against a Cardassian Akril-class ship.
“Those are Cardassian patrols,” said Garrett. “So?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Captain?” Burke asked.
“No. I see two unrelated findings: Ryn space and Cardassian space. One data set you allegewas in Halak’s possession, though just how you knew to look is a little vague. Just how didyou know? Never mind,” she waved off Burke’s reply before the SI officer opened her mouth, “I’ll bet you’re just dying to tell me. And the other set of data is from a stolen shuttle that wasn’t Halak’s to begin with. What am I supposed to find that’s so damned obvious?”
“Simply this, Captain. Starfleet Intelligence believes that Commander Halak did his job on Ryn very well. He infiltrated the Syndicate’s ranks; he even figured out their red ice distribution network. But he wasn’t about to share this with Starfleet. Instead, he was going to share it with the Syndicate’s rival, the Asfar Qatala.” Her dark brown eyes pegged Halak. “Because Halak’s working for Mahfouz Qadir. In fact, Halak’s family has been involved with the Qatala for years. Halak’s father worked for Qadir, as did his brother. But Halak wants to go one better. He wants to take over. Isn’t that right, Commander?”
If the shock waves that rippled through Garrett had been physical, she would have blown apart. As it was, no one said anything. The room was completely silent except for the faint beep-beep-beeping of the computer dutifully recording the proceedings. Halak’s color had gone from bronze to ashen, but he said nothing.
It was Garrett who reacted first. “Stop recording,” she said to the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Donald, you’re excused. You are to go to your quarters and stay there until I, or another officer, instruct you otherwise. Is that clear?”
Lieutenant Donald’s face was so chalky every freckle seemed splattered on with a paintbrush. “Yes, ma’am.” Without another word, he clicked off the recorder, rose, and hurried from the conference room.
Garrett waited until the door hissed shut. Then, slowly, she eyed Stern, Tyvan, and, lastly, Halak. She said nothing, and all of them, even Halak, met her gaze without flinching. She read the entreaty in Halak’s eyes. Then she stood and came around the conference room table until she was nose to nose with Burke. It gave Garrett a vicious thrill of satisfaction when Burke took a step back.
“Talk fast, Lieutenant,” Garrett said. “Make it good. No, make it better.”
“Captain, Halak’s lied, beenlying for years. SI’s been watching him for some time.”
“And you didn’t think to inform his commanding officers?”
“No.” She added, hastily, “When we discovered who he really was, we thought it best to use Commander Halak to our advantage.”
“We? Ouradvantage? Like we’re one big happy family? I don’t recall inviting you over for Christmas.”
“Captain,” Stern began.
Garrett cut her off with an angry gesture. “I don’t care who you work for, Burke. Starfleet Intelligence has no right, no right,to jeopardize any member of Starfleet, and you can be damned sure I’ll be on the horn to Starfleet Command about this, and if I find out that youare in any way culpable, I will personally see to it that you are roasted alive.”
Two high spots of color burned in Burke’s cheeks. “I understand your anger, Captain, and I apologize for my poor choice of words. But I’m only the messenger.”
That brought Garrett up short. Burke was right, she knew, but she was so angry it was miracle her head hadn’t erupted. Ease off, girl.“Apology accepted. Now,” she said, with a curt jerk of her head, “I don’t suppose you mind filling me in, Burke. Exactly who, or what is Halak?”
Burke’s expression was stolid. “Al-Halak is not his last name. El-Malkis. He’s not an orphan, except technically. His parents aredead now.But he had a mother and a father, as well as a brother, and they were all very much alive when Halak was born on Deneb V.”
Now it was Garrett’s turn to blink. “Deneb? Not Vendrak IV? But Deneb’s…”
“A known hotbed for illegal smugglers, traders of all descriptions. That’s right. That’s where Halak’s father ended up after beating an arms trafficking charge. Mahfouz Qadir was on Deneb at the same time Halak’s father showed up. They went into business together, one big happy crimefamily, Captain. And then they went to Farius Prime.”