“That’s enough background,” the captain interrupted. “I’m more interested in how you’d assess his behavior inside the colony.”
Gannon hesitated. “I think that whatever is going on, Gorkon is worried about something,” she said at last. “He held all the cards, yet he twice acceded to Doctor Duvadi, as if he felt he had no choice.”
Reyes turned to Fisher. “Doctor, do you agree with Commander Gannon’s assessment?”
“I do, Captain,” Fisher said. “I got the same impression.”
“So did I,” Reyes agreed. “So what does that tell us?”
“That Duvadi is the one pulling the strings,” Brzezinski said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Reyes, raising a finger toward the science officer, “but he definitely didn’t want to do or say anything to piss her off. That suggests to me he needs her for some purpose, and he’s willing to take atypical steps to ensure her continued cooperation.”
“ Atypicalis exactly the word for it,” Gannon said. “Nothing about this reflects usual Klingon behavior. Azha-R7a has little value strategically. Its mineral resources have some worth, but they represent neither a crippling loss to the Federation nor a significant gain for the Empire. No offense, Doctor Latour.”
“None taken,” Latour said.
“Arkenites, as a species, have never been of particular interest to the Klingons before, so it’s unlikely this has anything to do with them,” Gannon went on. “And with all due respect to Shey’s valid analysis of the astropolitical fallout of this crisis, the tactics employed simply don’t track with Klingon psychology. They favor direct confrontation to subtlety and lateral thinking. It’s hard to see what they’ve really gained from this.”
“The science labs,” Reyes mused, suddenly turning his full attention to Latour. “Why is it that, of all the locations to set up as their command post, the Klingons chose the laboratory wing?”
“Honestly, Captain, I have no idea,” Latour said.
“But what are the labs for?” Brzezinski asked. “I thought Azha-R7a was strictly a mining complex?”
“We started branching out last year,” Latour explained, “after a survey of a high-impact region revealed the presence of a subsurface frost layer teeming with exotic microbial fossils and unusual organic compounds, which we’ve determined were deposited by past cometary strikes. The Federation Science Council granted us a full array of state-of-the-art analysis-and-research equipment to study what we found. We’ve been at it ever since. But before you draw any hasty conclusions about that, we’ve made a thorough study of the frost and its contents, and I can assure you there’s nothing dangerous about our discoveries.”
“Let’s say you’re correct,” Sadler said. “What about the lab equipment itself? Is there anything about it that might be cause for concern if it fell into the wrong hands?”
Latour started to reply, but his confidence in whatever answer he was about to give faded quickly. “I’m not sure.”
“Shey,” Reyes said. “Take Doctor Latour with you to engineering. I want you to work together on compiling an inventory of everything the FSC sent to the colony. Check the library computer for their specs and review them for all possible applications.”
“Aye, sir,” said the Andorian engineer, nodding to the deputy administrator as the two of them got up from the meeting table and exited the briefing room.
Reyes turned to his chief of security. “Terry, I want you to start developing contingency plans to storm the colony. If we find out that diplomacy has failed, Starfleet Command might want us to take direct action to liberate the Arkenites, regardless of the political consequences.”
“Will do. But you need to know this, Captain . . . I’ve already made a thorough study of the mining complex, and in my current estimation, there’s no scenario that won’t involve civilian casualties.”
“Find one,” Reyes said. “Brzezinski, please assist Mister Sadler.”
That left only Gannon and Fisher in the room with Reyes. “Captain, I understand the necessity of preparing for worst-case scenarios,” the XO said, “but you must realize that if we do resort to force, we’ll be giving Gorkon exactly what he wants: an even stronger claim on Azha-R7a.”
Reyes looked close to losing his patience. “Commander, I respect the fresh perspective you bring to the table, but I know this man in ways that transcend what you can memorize from a computer file. And despite any pretense of honor, Gorkon is a ruthless, cunning bastard who won’t hesitate to space those people down there if and when he decides he doesn’t need to perpetuate this farce any longer. Once he has whatever he came here for, they’re as good as dead. My job is to make sure that moment never comes. Now, is there anything relevant you have to contribute to that objective?”
“There is one thing,” Gannon said evenly, “but I don’t think you’re going to like hearing it.”
Reyes’s eyebrows shot up. He cast a glance Fisher’s way, then leaned back in his chair. “Speak freely, Gannon.”
Gannon laced her hands atop the wood-stained oval table. “Gorkon takes great satisfaction in pushing your buttons, Captain. And frankly, that’s something he shouldn’t know how to do. This has gotten personal. You can’t seem to respond to him any way other than viscerally, and Gorkon knows it. He’s using your hatred of him to keep you off balance, to throw you off your game, to interfere with your judgment. And from what I’ve observed so far, he’s succeeding.”
Wow,Fisher thought. Go, Hallie!
Reyes’s eyes blazed. “Observation noted,” he answered curtly, abruptly vacating his chair and moving toward the exit.
“Gorkon was paying Commander Mehta a compliment, by the way,” Gannon called after him, and Reyes stopped in the doorway. “Before you threatened to blow his head off, when he told me to die as well as my predecessor? He wasn’t threatening me, or spitting on Mehta’s memory. He was acknowledging the honorable death of someone he considered a warrior. Among Klingons, it’s high praise.”
“What’s your point?”
“Only this, sir: The only way you’re going to beat Gorkon is by understanding what’s driving him, not by judging him according to human values. He’s never going to fit into the box you keep trying to put him in.”
• • •
As he strode down the curved corridor two hours later, Fisher told himself he’d waited long enough. When he reached his destination, he stopped at the door and thumbed the buzzer. It was answered in a distinct tone of resignation: “Come in, Zeke.”
The door slid open, and Fisher stepped inside the captain’s cabin to see Reyes working at his desk. “How’d you know it was me?”
Reyes’s eyes rolled toward him. “Everyone else aboard has the good sense not to bother the captain when he’s in a bad mood.”
“That’s a relief. I was afraid you were gonna make some smart-ass crack about hearing my joints creaking from down the corridor.”
Reyes rose and moved to his food slot. “Look, Zeke, if you came here to say something, just say it and go. Or you can shut up and join me for some bad coffee. Either way, I’m too busy to put up with the usual crap.”
“I’ll take the coffee,” Fisher said agreeably as he strolled toward the desk, where the screen displayed Reyes’s after-action report on the incident at Xarant. The doctor ignored it, reaching instead for the slate that Reyes had placed facedown on the desk when Fisher walked in. He turned it over and saw Gannon’s personnel file.
“Archery,” Fisher noted. “Who would have thought?”
“Hey, do you mind?” Reyes said irritably, grabbing the slate and handing Fisher a steaming cup. “What if this had been a top secret file?”
Fisher waved dismissively and went to sit in the chair opposite Reyes’s desk. “So what? You hate keeping secrets.”
Reyes sighed and returned to his own chair. “So what do you want, really? If you came here to talk to me about Gannon—”
“Actually, I came here to talk about you.”
“What about me?”