“Confirmation received just before you called this briefing, Captain. Vulcan Space Central reports that the warp shuttle T’Poldisappeared twelve days ago. The shuttle’s last known position was 30 light-years from Farius Prime. Sivek really isa V’Shar operative, only he’s really quite dead:murdered. Body was found today in a cave outside Naweeth City, on Vulcan.”
Bat-Levi was shaking her head. “Captain, who arethese people? And what do they want with Commander Halak?”
Garrett weighed her response. “I think it’s safe to assume that thesepeople are Qadir confederates. That would explain why they know so much about Halak. Some of what they presented is, apparently, the genuine article—Halak’s family, the Qatala connection, and the falsified information he gave on his Academy application.”
She waited for the general shuffling as her crew absorbed that to die away before continuing. “As for whythey want him, I don’t know. Right now I don’t care. Our job is to find him and worry about the rest later.”
Bat-Levi gave a little laugh. “It’s a big galaxy, Captain.”
“A…what do you call it?” Glemoor frowned then brightened. “Needle in a haystack, yes?”
“Worse,” muttered Kodell.
“Not necessarily.” Garrett glanced at Stern. “Doctor?”
Stern crossed her arms over her chest. “I examined Halak before he left the ship, and I injected him with a nanosubcu-transponder. And no,”she glowered at Tyvan as if daring him to make an issue of it, “there was no loop, and no one ordered me to do it. Did it all on my own. Captain Garrett didn’t know a thing. Just had a feeling, that’s all.”
There was a moment of shocked silence. A beat-pause. Garrett saw Tyvan hide a grin behind his hand. Then Bulast said, “Well, okay. All I’ll need is the transponder code. You get me that, and we backtrack, I’ll find him.”
“But they could have gone anywhere from there. Like I said, it’s a big universe,” said Bat-Levi. “Reallybig.”
“Well, SI’s got some ideas about that,” said Garrett, hoping her tone didn’t betray a shred of the anxiety she felt. Then she told them.
This time the silence lasted for a good thirty seconds. Kodell broke it. “Cardassian. Space. Cardassian?”
“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,” said Stern.
“Well, not exactly Cardassian,” said Garrett, with no more inflection than if they were talking about Halak being in orbit around Mars, or somewhere equally benign, and not somewhere in the tinderbox of disputed Cardassian space. “SI thinks. They’re not sure, and they didn’t really get into why they think that he’s even there.”
“You mean, they decided we didn’t have to know,” said Kodell, a man who, in Garrett’s opinion, never minced words. He was prickly—downright obstinate, sometimes—but she actually liked him more because he spoke his mind.
“Maybe.” And then because Garrett didn’t like SI anymore than Kodell did: “Yes.”
“Ah,” said Glemoor, “then they want to play, how do you call it? Russian roulette. Only we are the ones pulling the trigger of our own pistol.”
Bat-Levi frowned. “What’s Russian roulette?” When Glemoor explained, she made a disparaging noise. “That’s a stupid game. You could end up getting killed.”
Kodell looked baleful. “Which is why they’re sending usin.”
Garrett eyed Kodell. “You have a problem?”
“Frankly, yes. With all due respect, Captain, we’ve just come through a run-in with a black hole. We’re lucky there’s only minor hull damage from radiation pitting, but the inertial dampers are just a little cranky, and our gravity could use some work. I’m not happy with the antimatter injectors, either. Now you’re talking space that’s in dispute between the Federation and the Cardassians. We all know about the Cardassians. Shoot first, and shoot later. Now, we’re being asked to go in covertly. How long before the Cardassians claim we’re making incursions into their territory, and do the same to us? We show up without authorization, we spark a conflict, and if we’re forced into a fight, I can’t vouch for the ship.”
“Well then, you’ll be pleased to know that our orders are notto fight. Our orders are not to engage the Cardassians. Our orders are to locate Commander Halak, period.”
Kodell was undaunted. “You mean, evade the Cardassians, find Halak, and apprehend this Burke and Sivek, or whoever they are because if Halak’s there, so are they. That’s the real agenda, Captain, and that’s business for Starfleet Intelligence.”
“But Halak’s one of us,” said Bat-Levi.
“I know that,” said Kodell. “I’m just pointing out the risks involved, and it’s justification I’m asking about. Why doesn’t Starfleet Intelligence just send their people after Burke and Sivek, retrieve Halak, and then go from there? Personally, I don’t think they care one bit about Halak. All they care about is what happens to their own.”
“And it comes down to that, doesn’t it, Mr. Kodell?” asked Garrett. “Caring for your own people? Normally, I’d agree with you on SI cleaning up after itself. To tell the truth, I intend to file a formal protest with Starfleet Command, after.Batanides hasn’t been on the up and up. No intelligence agency ever is. I accept that, but I move on, Mr. Kodell, because it’s my job.Make no mistake. Until we understand the whole truth, I’m unwilling to throw a member of mycrew on myship to the wolves.”
She spared Glemoor a brief admonishing glance: Don’t ask.Now, she reasoned, was not the time to explain the vagaries of aphorisms. “This is not a debate, Mr. Kodell, nor is it a democracy. We have our orders. If it were captain’s discretion, I would make the same decision. We get Halak. Then we decide what to do after that.”
Kodell wasn’t put off. “And the Cardassians, Captain?”
“Ifthat’s where Halak is, and ifCardassians show up, we don’t fight. Period. Nothing provocative.” She didn’t add that she understood their presence was likely provocation enough. “We defend ourselves, if need be.”
Kodell looked displeased but said nothing more. Shortly after, Garrett dismissed them with orders to rendezvous with the U.S.S. Blakely,also in that sector, and transport the survivors from the colony ship to that vessel before proceeding. Except for Stern, the rest filed out without conversation—at least, within earshot.
Stern waited until the briefing room door hissed shut. “He hit it on the head, you know.”
“Please.” Closing her eyes, Garrett pinched the bridge of her nose between her right thumb and index finger. Her head was raging. Concussions, she concluded, were worse than any migraine. “Not you, too. Glemoor’s bad enough.”
“I see we’re on the same page,” Stern said, straight-faced. “Isn’t it nice that I don’t have to explain every idiomatic expression?”
“You hanging around for a reason, or just on general principle?”
“Two things. Want the bad news, or the observation first?”
Garrett groaned. “What?”
“I told you I asked Mac to do some digging around. Damn good thing he did; it alerted Batanides to check up on Burke. But here’s another thing he found: those autopsy reports on Thex and Strong.”
“Halak’s crewmembers from the Ryn mission. And?”
“Thex’s autopsy results were consistent with death as a result of his injuries.”
“Oh.” Garrett blinked. “Well, that’s not bad.”
Stern held up a hand. “Wait. Strong’s results were a little more problematic.”
“No explosive decompression?”
“Oh, no, there was that.” Stern made a face. “You don’t tend to miss that, air-filled spaces like heads and guts and lungs popping tending to be fairly splashy.”
“But?”
“Buta more detailed analysis of Strong’s intact tissues does not demonstrate persuasive evidence of a preexisting hypoxia.”
“Jo, in English.”