On the viewscreen, Nassir’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How’s it possible something like that was missed?”
“Talk to Lieutenant Ballard,” Reyes replied. “You know those system glitches we’ve been having all over the station for weeks? The communications array looks to be just as prone to them as everything else.” Starbase 47’s chief engineer had assured Reyes that he and his team felt they were close to finally having a handle on the ongoing problems plaguing the station’s advance toward full operational capability, but at this point the commodore remained less than convinced.
“So, we’re saying we’ve definitely lost Traelus?”Nassir asked.
Nodding, Reyes replied, “Looks that way. The Empire’s notification was in order, and after review the Diplomatic Corps and the Federation Council have agreed that there’s nothing to be done. Traelus belongs to the Klingons now.”
“The Tholians won’t be thrilled about that,”Nassir said, “but that would’ve been true even if we’d gotten there first. It’s awfully close to the Tholian border, and that’s before you take into account how much the Tholians like to shift their territorial boundaries on a whim.”
Reyes knew it was a notion shared by many within the halls of leadership at Starfleet Command. Whereas the Federation would have been content to colonize the Traelus system—even as a cover for exploring Traelus II for further signs of the meta-genome or its creators—and leave the Tholians well enough alone, many of Starfleet’s foremost tactical minds worried about what the Klingons might do in such close proximity to Tholian territory. It would not be long before the Tholian government issued some form of protest at the Empire’s perceived encroachment, but how would the situation evolve or deteriorate from there?
And what if the Klingons somehow stumbled across the meta-genome, and from there discovered Starfleet’s interest in it?
“Stop trying to cheer me up, Captain,” Reyes said, attempting a small, humorless smile to soften the remark. “We’ll have to worry about the Tholians and the Klingons another day, and Ensign Theriault will just have to find another place to play. Anything else to report?”
Nassir shook his head. “Only that we’re tired, and that some shore leave would not go unnoticed or unappreciated.”
“Duly noted,” Reyes replied, tapping his fingers on his desktop. “I’ll do everything I can to get you some decent downtime once you get back, mission permitting. Safe travels, Captain, and we’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
Touching his right forefinger to his temple in an informal gesture of salute, Nassir said, “Thank you, Commodore. Nassir out.”His face disappeared in a burst of static as the subspace connection was severed, after which the screen shifted to depict a condensed version of the station’s current status schematic as displayed on the larger viewscreen in Reyes’s office. The commodore studied it for a moment, noting the few lines of text in red that detailed systems currently being serviced by one of Lieutenant Ballard’s engineering teams.
The sound of his door chime made Reyes turn toward the entrance to his quarters, and he frowned. Who would be calling on him at this hour, and in person, no less? “Come,” he called out, and was surprised to see Captain Rana Desai standing at the threshold as the door slid aside, her Starfleet captain’s uniform smooth and straight as though she had just donned it. Rising from his seat, Reyes glanced toward the chronometer on his desk. “Captain,” he said, his confusion mounting. “I’m sorry, did we have an appointment I’ve forgotten about?”
Desai stepped into the room, and Reyes noted that unlike almost every other occasion on which he had seen her since that first meeting in his office, she was not carrying the data slate that seemed to be an extension of her body. “No, sir, this isn’t duty-related.” She paused, looking about the room before continuing, “I’m sorry, Commodore. Are you busy?”
“Not at all,” Reyes said, gesturing with his hands to indicate that he was not otherwise occupied. “What can I do for you?” He heard her clear her throat, and she glanced at her hands, which were clasped before her and held near her waist.
“I . . . I just left my office,” she said, “and I was wondering if you might like to join me for a late dinner?”
Unable to keep the expression of surprise from his face, Reyes replied, “That sounds great, actually. I . . . I missed dinner. Paperwork. The life of the commanding officer, and all that.”
Stop babbling, you idiot.
Their first dinner had been a quiet, unassuming affair in the officers’ club, and while they had maintained a professional demeanor throughout the evening, Reyes could not help but sense that Desai had wanted something more, just as he had. Neither party acted on those apparent feelings, and their dinner concluded with Reyes returning to his office to catch up on reviewing backlogged reports, while Desai continued her efforts to settle into her new assignment. What Reyes wondered was whether the captain, like him, had simply sat at her desk, ignoring her work and ruminating on how the evening might have gone if either or both of them had chosen a different path.
Swallowing the odd lump that had formed in his throat, Reyes asked, “So, what are you hungry for?”
Desai seemed to ponder the question for a moment, and then Reyes saw her features soften before she stepped toward him. “I’ve decided I don’t want dinner. We can talk later about what to have for breakfast.” Reaching out, she grasped his head in her hands and pulled him to her.
Well, this changes some things,was the last rational thought to pass through Reyes’s mind before he surrendered it and everything else.
13
Ambassador Jetanien had never liked waiting, despite the knowledge that waiting—and being able to make others wait—was a time-honored weapon in any diplomat’s arsenal. He employed it himself on frequent occasions, using it as a means of informing other parties that he was in control of a given situation, and that events would evolve and progress according to his agenda and desires.
He was rather less enamored of the practice when it was utilized against him.
Holding his hands together before him, Jetanien tapped his long fingers in rhythmic fashion as he waited for the image on his desktop computer monitor to show him something else besides a spinning crimson dodecahedron superimposed upon a black background. He had been staring at it for no less than five minutes, and was sensing his patience beginning to wane.
One has to wonder if this species’ apparent obsession with punctuality is a ruse.
Jetanien was almost ready to declare this venture a wasted exercise and terminate the connection when the image on the monitor shifted from stark, unmoving black to a sea of roiling blue. At the center of the image now stood an angular, crystalline silhouette, its crimson hue all but leaping through the screen. Boring into Jetanien was a pair of triangular pink eyes, the sole features on the face of the Tholian now staring at him from across dozens of light-years of interstellar space.
“I am Sesrene,”the Tholian said, “special diplomatic envoy representing the Tholian Assembly. You are Ambassador Jetanien?”
Jetanien nodded. “Indeed I am, Ambassador. It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance. As you no doubt are aware, the Federation has for some time now been attempting to engage your government in the interests of cooperation and peace.”
“You do this even as you seek to encroach upon our territory?”Sesrene asked. “Do not think we are unaware of your aggressive expansion into the region flanking our borders. This does not seem to us to be the acts of supposed allies.”
Well versed in Tholian xenophobia, Jetanien considered Sesrene’s words before replying, “Ambassador, the Federation has always demonstrated, through word and deed, restraint and respect when attempting to expand or simply explore beyond its borders. We view the sovereign claims of any civilization to be inviolable. Our surveys into the Taurus Reach are limited to worlds which harbor no indigenous populations or which are not otherwise known to have been claimed by another power. It is not the Federation with which your government needs to be concerned, sir, but rather the Klingon Empire.”