Nodding, Moratino asked, “Do you have any objections to Captain Sereb serving as prosecuting attorney or to myself as president of this court?”
“None, Your Honor.”
Hell of a time to ask.
“Very well,” Moratino said. Looking down to the young Vulcan, she prompted, “Lieutenant T’Nir.”
Standing as she had since first taking up her station by the computer interface, her face impassive as she looked toward the rear of the courtroom, T’Nir said, “Charge: willful disobedience of a superior officer. Specification: in that on stardate 1528.4, Commodore Diego Reyes did defy standing orders by revealing classified information to unauthorized personnel. Charge: releasing classified Starfleet intelligence data to unauthorized personnel. Specification: in that Commodore Reyes did allow a member of the press to distribute to the Federation News Service restricted information vital to the interests of Federation security, with that information being published via public news outlets. Charge: conspiracy in the second degree. Specification: in that Commodore Reyes, through purposeful action or lack of action and with knowledge aforethought, did allow unauthorized persons to disseminate classified information.”
Reyes stood silent as the charges were entered into the trial’s official record, each word cutting into him with the unforgiving torment of a dulled blade. Everything he had once upheld as right and proper, every oath he had ever sworn, seemed to fall to dust in the face of the blunt, cold offenses of which he now was accused.
“Commodore Reyes has entered a plea of guilty to the charge of willful disobedience,” Moratino said after the charges were entered, “and not guilty to the remaining charges. Does the commodore wish to change his plea?”
He saw out of the corner of his eye that Desai was looking to him, but Reyes did not turn his attention from the bench. “No, Your Honor.”
The admiral nodded. “Very well. The plea of guilty for the charge of willful disobedience is so entered and accepted. You may all be seated.” Once everyone had taken a seat, Moratino looked to Sereb. “Captain, is the prosecution prepared to make its opening statement?”
Sereb once again rose to his feet. “I am, Your Honor.” The Tellarite moved toward the witness stand, a lone chair on a small dais at the center of the courtroom.
“Members of the court, the facts of this case are straightforward. Commodore Reyes ignored his obligation to superior officers in his chain of command, defying their lawful orders and instead taking matters of Federation security into his own hands.” His attention focused on the bench, he began to walk a circuit around the stand, gesturing with his pudgy arms as he talked. “He did so without regard for the larger, sweeping ramifications, not only to the Federation itself but also to our allies and even our enemies. By allowing the disclosure of classified information about ongoing Starfleet operations and interests in the Taurus Reach, Commodore Reyes may well have triggered an upset in the balance of power, the consequences of which likely will be felt for years to come. His actions reflect immense discredit not only upon himself but also upon all of Starfleet and, indeed, the United Federation of Planets.”
He had tried to prepare himself for the impact Sereb’s opening remarks would have on him, but Reyes still felt his anger rise as he listened to the lawyer’s cold, stark assessment about what he had allowed to happen.
I didn’tallow it to happen,he reminded himself. I made it happen. Iwanted it to happen.He felt the unbridled need to scream the words. It was necessary. It was right.
Perhaps it was, perhaps not. Would any of that matter, or would the truth—not about what he had done but whyhe had done it—be just another obstacle for Captain Sereb as the attorney pushed the court-martial toward a conviction?
Glancing toward Desai, who, like the board members, appeared to be hanging on the Tellarite’s every word, Reyes could not help the pang of doubt that began without warning to gnaw at him.
Rana’s got her work cut out for her.
33
The ancient computer interface crackled to life, filling the subterranean chamber with the echo of a moderate hum beginning to radiate from somewhere within the millennia-old equipment.
“I’ll be damned,” said Lieutenant Commander Mahmud al-Khaled as he stood next to Ming Xiong, observing the proceedings. Beneath his feet, the leader of the U.S.S. Lovell’s Starfleet Corps of Engineers detachment could feel a low vibration coursing through the cavern’s stone floor. Somewhere, underneath however many meters of solid rock, something was happening as a result of their efforts in this room. “Any idea what it’s doing?”
His head poking out from the neck of his Starfleet-issue field parka, Xiong did not look up as he studied his tricorder. “Whatever it is, it’s very localized. I’m only detecting power readings within a sphere of less than one hundred meters.”
“That’s barely enough to account for this complex,” al-Khaled said, watching the steam from his breath as he spoke. “At least the parts we know about, anyway. Still, it’s a start.” Despite the warmth generated by the portable heaters they had brought from the Lovell,the cavern maintained a bone-chilling cold.
Standing at the console, Nezrene appeared to be leaning against it for support, but al-Khaled had quickly realized that the Tholian was, in fact, adopting a posture that allowed her greater access to several contact points embedded within the console’s onyx crystal surface. Those points were all but invisible to the naked eye, but Xiong had learned how to identify them with Nezrene’s assistance. Beneath the Tholian’s appendages, numerous controls and displays—all obviously designed for physiologies quite different from that of humans—now were visible, emanating from within the console itself. Along the wall before Nezrene, other displays were active, also ensconced within another slab of the enigmatic opaque crystal. Unlike the tactile interfaces to which al-Khaled was accustomed and which he, in fact, preferred, nothing like that existed here. Everything was contained inside the dark panels, which, for the most part, resisted scanning attempts and foiled any efforts to create technical schematics of the equipment’s interior components.
“Nezrene,” Xiong said, stepping closer, “are you feeling anything? Sensing any kind of reaction?”
The Tholian replied, “I am aware of increased power generation. Our access attempts have apparently resulted in the execution of some form of standard activation protocol. I am detecting what I perceive to be limited instructions being conveyed from this interface to other nodes, all of which are engaging in their own initiation procedures.”
“Start-up diagnostics?” al-Khaled asked. “That would make sense, especially since most of this equipment hasn’t been in operation for thousands of years.” He paused, then added, “Well, except for what happened the last time we were here.”
“Don’t remind me,” Xiong said. “It took me days to stop shaking, and it wasn’t because of the cold.”
Al-Khaled nodded, recalling vividly the events of the Lovell’s last visit to Erilon. Working with Xiong, the ship’s engineering cadre had spent several days on the surface of this icebound world, the majority of that time within this same set of caverns. When the mysterious Shedai entity had arrived, seemingly from nowhere, and commenced attacking the landing party, only some last-minute, panic-stricken ingenuity on the part of al-Khaled and other Lovellengineers had saved the entire Starfleet contingent from being annihilated.