Pausing to consider that theory, Sandesjo decided it an unlikely scenario. Still, to appease her handler and keep this conversation moving, she nodded in agreement. “Even if that’s the case, it’s unlikely anyone assigned to this station would be aware of such a vessel’s existence, with the potential exception of Commodore Reyes.”
“ A logical conclusion,”Turag replied, making no effort to suppress the sneer that curled the corners of his mouth. “ Perhaps all the time spent with that Vulcan has influenced you in more ways than one.”
Despite her formidable self-control, Sandesjo still felt her blood warm in response to the other Klingon’s unvoiced yet undisguised accusation. “Explain yourself,” she demanded.
Shrugging, Turag offered a lascivious smile as he replied, “ Rumors, naturally. According to ‘unnamed sources,’ you and the Vulcan have been observed in situations that— shall we say— appear to be something other than purely professional.”
Sandesjo schooled her features and her voice to remain impassive as she regarded Turag over the comm link, at the same time relishing the image of the handler’s severed head impaled upon the point of her mek’lethas she sang a song of triumph and enjoyed a hearty mug of deliciously aged bloodwine. What did this filthy petaQ’puknow? Had he somehow become privy to the more intimate moments she shared with T’Prynn?
No, she decided. While Sandesjo expected that Turag would have her under constant surveillance, T’Prynn, being a seasoned intelligence operative in her own right, would almost certainly have taken steps to ensure she was protected from covert scrutiny.
Maintaining her neutral tone and demeanor, Sandesjo asked, “Do you wish to hear the rest of my report, Turag, or continue this clumsy attempt to fuel your fantasies? I don’t believe I have sufficient time to assist you in rousing that pathetic excuse for a loD-machyou claim to wield.”
His jaw clenching in response to her rebuke, Turag’s head bobbed in a curt nod. “ Continue.”
Satisfied for the moment, Sandesjo said, “According to a subspace communication I was able to intercept and decrypt, the U.S.S. Endeavourwas attacked near Erilon and sustained several casualties, including its captain. The ship is making its return to the station now.”
“ Who is responsible?”Turag asked. While his own inflection was measured, Sandesjo could see that he still was stinging from her admonishment.
Sandesjo shook her head. “Unknown. From what I have been able to learn, the ship was attacked by a planet-based weapon of considerable power, enough to drive them from orbit. It’s not Tholian, and based on the Endeavour’s report as well as information gathered since the station became operational, there may be other repositories of such technologies scattered throughout the Taurus Reach.”
Shrugging, Turag said, “ Planetary defense systems are nothing new, Lurqal.”
Sandesjo braced against the sudden rise in anger at hearing her given name again. “I’ve told you not to call me that.” She had no desire to be reminded that her Klingon heritage had been buried beneath a façade. “The technology itself is not the issue. Personnel on the planet’s surface were also attacked, by an unknown alien life-form. Details on that are sketchy, no doubt due to security protocols, but I was able to gather that this development is of paramount concern to Commodore Reyes.”
“ How so?”Turag asked.
Shaking her head, Sandesjo replied, “There’s no way to know, based on the limited amount of information that was shared over the communications channel. I’ll pass on more information as soon as possible.” Of course, she had no idea at this point how she might accomplish that, given the apparent secrecy that seemed to enshroud much of the activity taking place among the station’s most senior officers and civilian advisors.
On her transceiver’s display screen, Turag nodded. “ See that you do.Qapla’.”
The communication was severed without even offering Sandesjo a chance to return the traditional farewell. Absentmindedly, she reached out and pressed the control that deactivated the unit and returned it to its hiding place inside her briefcase’s concealed compartment. Once more, her cover was back in place.
Reviewing the information she had gathered and reported, Sandesjo found herself with as many new questions as Turag had posed. Who had destroyed the Tholian vessel? The Klingons? If so, why?
She realized that the commander of a Klingon battle cruiser in the middle of barely charted space did not need any compelling reason to unleash his weapons—on anything or anyone. Still, most officers in such positions of responsibility still tended to exercise a modicum of restraint, even in this age when personal honor and discipline seemed to be out of favor with many Klingon warriors. After all, Sandesjo knew of no officers so bold that they would risk the wrath of the chancellor of the High Council, who had expressly forbidden any vessel operating in the Taurus Reach from taking aggressive action against Federation or Tholian interests in the region unless acting in self-defense. It was an uncharacteristic position for the chancellor to take, suggesting to her that there indeed was more occurring in this area of space than met the eye.
What that might be, of course, was the question which now taunted Sandesjo.
17
Once again, the call rang out through the Conduit. Once more, the Shedai Wanderer answered.
Doing so was difficult. Many of the channels, which long ago had allowed for limitless movement of information as well as the ability to oversee everything and everyone the Shedai once had ruled, now possessed only a fraction of their former capabilities. Navigation was problematic, with only a few scattered interface points available for reference. While transiting the Conduits had at one time been as effortless as drawing breath into one’s own body, their current lack of power and cohesion now presented a hazard to anyone who might now choose to navigate them. It was a distinct possibility that one of the few remaining thought-strands might fail.
Traveling to this world also had involved an additional risk, given that the Wanderer had left behind the shell she had worn on the frozen world. She had no way of knowing what awaited her at her destination, and should the channel falter while she was in transit before she could acquire a new host, there would be nothing to prevent her being extinguished from existence.
Regardless of the risk, the song cannot be ignored.
As before on the cold, barren world she had left behind, the Wanderer found that the call had been uttered as a consequence of the clumsy actions of Telinaruulattempting to understand that which was far beyond their comprehension. She recalled that this planet—which possessed vast potential perfectly suited to the needs of the Shedai in their quest to regain what once had been theirs—also was home to what once had been a primitive and inferior species that nevertheless held great promise. From what the Wanderer could remember from the time before the long darkness had laid claim to her, these life-forms had only just begun to display the most basic levels of sentience.
There had been fierce debates about how best to proceed with these beings, but ultimately they were left to develop at their own pace and without external interference. In doing so, it was believed, these life-forms might eventually be of some use when the time finally came for the Shedai to ascend once more to their rightful place as rulers of their vast empire.