“Healer Sobon,” T’Nel said, sensing the first hints of concern. “Is T’Prynn still in the village?”
“Again, I do not know, my child,” Sobon said, taking another bite of the liralslice. “Though, were I to engage in speculation, I would say that she has left.”
T’Nel looked through the window toward the village’s front gate and saw a Starfleet shuttlecraft, fifty meters beyond the perimeter wall and sitting on a patch of flat ground. Outside the shuttle, three humans in Starfleet uniforms milled about. “Are the Starfleet officers aware of this?”
“I suspect not,” Sobon said, reaching for another piece of fruit. “While their sensor equipment can monitor biological readings and determine the current location of each of the village’s residents, they are not so sensitive as to be able to distinguish between individuals. I imagine T’Prynn was aware of this when she asked me to stay in her room last night as she prepared to depart and to remain here until you arrived this morning.”
For the first time, T’Nel felt genuine emotion stirring within her. Training suppressed it, of course, but it was there. “Healer Sobon, do you mean to say that you assisted T’Prynn in a bid for her to escape the village?” How was such a feat even possible, given her sister’s compromised condition? Had she progressed more rapidly than she had allowed others to believe?
Was it her imagination, or did she see the ghost of a smile on Sobon’s face? “T’Prynn did not discuss her evening’s agenda. She asked only that I remain here.” After a moment, he added, “However, upon returning to my study, I expect to find several items missing, such as a small rucksack, a vessel for carrying water, a portable hand lamp, and perhaps one or two maps. An inspection of the kitchen may reveal that several days’ worth of dried fruits and vegetables is gone as well.”
Her eyes narrowing as she comprehended the true scope of Sobon’s words, T’Nel said, “I do not believe Starfleet will view that as plausible deniability, Healer.”
“That is Starfleet’s concern,” Sobon countered, “not mine.”
“How would she even be able to leave the village undetected?” T’Nel asked, confused. “Surely, she could not get past the Starfleet security team.”
He rose from the bed, and his withered hands smoothed wrinkles from his robe. “You seem to forget, my child, that T’Prynn is a formidable Starfleet officer in her own right, as well as an intelligence officer. It seems logical to conclude that she possesses the knowledge and skills to deal with such obstacles. Now, if you will excuse me, I must proceed with my own schedule for the day.”
With a final glance out the window, T’Nel turned back to the elder Vulcan. “I do not understand. Where would she go?”
Almost to the door, Sobon stopped and turned back to face her. “T’Prynn seeks answers to many questions. Perhaps she decided that now was a good time to search for those answers.”
“Once Starfleet discovers she’s missing,” T’Nel replied, “she will be considered a fugitive. Any opportunity for leniency in the face of the charges against her will be lost.”
“I have no reason to believe that T’Prynn is unaware of that, T’Nel,” Sobon said, “but you know as well as I that she would never allow that to impede her, and you also know that whatever it is she has decided to do, she will only be satisfied by doing it on her own. That has always been her way.”
Indeed,T’Nel mused. T’Prynn never had allowed anything to interfere with her pursuit of whatever goal she had set. Now that she had emerged from the ordeal that had consumed her for so many years, it was logical that T’Prynn would set new goals, which remained known only to her.
Sobon exited the room, leaving T’Nel alone. She stared out the window beyond Kren’than’s confines, her gaze taking in the panoramic view that was offered by the surrounding L-langon Mountains. Somewhere out there, she knew, was her sister, pursuing a new journey she believed she could undertake only on her own. Would she return? T’Nel could not be certain, of course, but she considered it unlikely. That, she knew, also was T’Prynn’s way.
Peace, my sister, for you have earned it,T’Nel thought. Peace and long life.
56
Komoraq cursed the droning dirge of the alarm Klaxon as it echoed through the narrow corridor leading to the M’ahtagh’s bridge. His heavy boots clanging against the metal deck grating, he bared his teeth and growled at those few subordinates standing between him and the hatch leading to the ship’s command center. Not wanting to risk incurring their captain’s wrath, they pushed themselves against angled bulkheads or plunged into open service crawlways to clear a path for him. The pressure hatch’s massive doors parted at his approach.
“Silence that insufferable baby wailing,” Komoraq snarled as he stepped onto the bridge, on his way to the captain’s chair at the center of the room. “Report!”
Standing at the console positioned along the left bulkhead, Lieutenant Kalorg, one of the M’ahtagh’s weapons officers, replied, “Federation starship has just entered sensor range, Captain. It’s on an intercept course, traveling at high warp. Sensors indicate that it is a Constitution-class battle cruiser. At its present rate of speed, it will be in our weapons range in less than two kuvits.”
“Raise shields,” the captain ordered, “Place weapons on ready status.”
Had Starfleet somehow determined the location of the Earther his wife held beneath the planet’s surface? Pondering his options as he stroked his beard, Komoraq’s first instinct was to engage the Federation ship in battle. There would be some controversy, of course, raised mostly by clueless, whiny bureaucrats back on the homeworld. It would pass, particularly when it came to light that the Federation vessel had intruded in space claimed by the empire. The Earther government, with no stomach for confrontation, would happily accept that explanation, content to dishonor those who might die in battle for the sake of protecting their own worthless hides.
“You say the ship is on an intercept course?” he asked.
Nodding, Kalorg said, “Yes, Captain, though their weapons do not appear to be activated.”
Perhaps this Earther captain has courage his leaders lack,Komoraq mused. Intrigued by this notion, he turned to his communications officer. “Open a channel, and hail them.”
At the communications station, Lieutenant Mondol replied, “Yes, Captain.”
“Vessel closing to weapons range,” Kalorg reported.
When Mondol turned back to face Komoraq, his expression was a mask of uncertainty. “I have received a response, sir.”
Komoraq scowled. “What is it?”
“The vessel’s captain has suggested that you engage in disrespectful acts with your mother, sir.”
It took an additional moment for the response to register, after which Komoraq ground his teeth together, uttering a low, ominous growl. “Target that vessel, and prepare to open fire.”
“They are activating their energy weapons!” Kalorg called out. “They’re firing!”
An instant later, Komoraq felt the deck tremble beneath his feet and listened to the protests of the angled support struts along the bridge’s perimeter. Most of the energy from the attack had been absorbed by the M’ahtagh’s shields, but that did not discount the possibility of damage. “Report,” he ordered.
“Minor power loss in the starboard deflectors,” replied Kalorg. “The enemy vessel is coming about, altering its course.”