T’Prynn replied, “Your predilection for discerning what information better serves the citizens of the Federation by being kept from public dissemination was successfully argued by Mister Reyes. He may be your strongest advocate aboard the station.”
“But not my only one,” Pennington said, shifting his gaze from his recorder to her. “Thank you, T’Prynn.” Nodding toward the device, he added, “Don’t get me wrong; it’s a tremendous story, but not for the news feeds. I’ll archive it along with the rest of my Vanguard recordings and when I’m ready, I’ll give it a look.”
Maybe I can write a book or three about all of this one day.
“As you wish,” T’Prynn said.
She said nothing else for a moment, and when that moment began to lengthen to the point of awkwardness, Pennington shifted his position once again, his discomfort now existing on multiple levels. “Was there something else?” he finally asked.
T’Prynn seemed to be experiencing her own bout of uneasiness. “There is another matter. I have come to acknowledge the circumstances which led to your injury. Your actions prevented harm to me, and I … thank you, Tim.”
Thanks, from a Vulcan?Pennington could not help the odd tinge of humility he now felt as he contemplated what T’Prynn must have mustered within herself to share those words. Sensing her anxiety despite her best efforts to maintain her cool, composed demeanor, he said, “T’Prynn, please. I did what anyone else would have done in the same situation.”
“You have shown me much kindness,” T’Prynn said. “I realize this is a normal, if illogical, practice of your species, and one from which I have encouraged you to refrain on multiple occasions. And yet, you persist.”
“Call me stubborn,” Pennington replied, now feeling more than a bit anxious in his own right, and seeking a way to ease the tension they both seemed to be experiencing.
T’Prynn’s eyebrow arched once again. “ MisterPennington, with your permission, I would like to reciprocate.”
“Permission?” Pennington puzzled a bit over his own question. Reciprocate? What the hell is she saying?“I suppose, but what do you need permission for?”
Without replying, T’Prynn stepped closer to his side, reaching up to rest her fingers along the sides of his face. Pennington felt the gentle pressure of her fingertips against his temples and at points just below his eyes.
“Tim Pennington,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “my mind to your mind. Our minds are merging. Our minds are one, and together.”
“Wait, what are you …” There was an initial rush of uncertainty at what was happening, but Pennington forced himself to relax, knowing T’Prynn was not attempting to harm him. He tried to speak further, but the words only thickened in his mouth. Then, a preternatural calm overtook him, and though he could not hear her words, he felt her presence in his mind. Soothing warmth washed over him like a thick, inviting blanket, and he felt the tension in his body melt away, and a sensation of euphoria began to overtake him. T’Prynn was there, but just beyond the perimeter of his perception, and he comprehended he was slipping away into the welcoming embrace of sleep, no doubt brought on by T’Prynn’s mind-meld and whatever passive instructions she was feeding to his subconscious.
As he drifted away, content to let whatever spell T’Prynn had cast upon him soothe his overtaxed mind and body, Pennington realized she also had given him one additional gift.
The pain from his nonexistent arm was gone.
29
Standing on a rise that afforded him an unobstructed view of the valley below, Thomas Blair studied the settlement through the viewfinder of the field binoculars. The structures, all of obvious Klingon design, appeared to be intact. He saw no signs of attack or even a natural disaster that might have been misconstrued as an attack. To his eyes, nothing about the colony appeared amiss.
Except for the bodies, of course. “Good God,” Blair said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His mouth had gone dry, and he swallowed several times in an effort to work up some spit. Panning the binoculars across the colony center, he opted to stop counting the number of Klingon bodies scattered along the open streets and courtyards. Other corpses were draped over balconies, or slumped over the consoles of land vehicles or other equipment. From somewhere, probably within one or more of the structures, Blair heard the low, constant hum of machinery still in operation. Generators, he thought, or environmental control or refrigeration units. He saw no sign of weapons or other military apparatus. “No life signs. You’re sure about that?”
Standing next to him, his security chief, Lieutenant Commander Trethishavu th’Vlene, replied, “None, Captain. At least, none within the target area.”
“Eight kilometers across,” Blair said, repeating that nugget of information from the briefing his science officer had given to him prior to his decision to beam down. “And almost a perfect circle. There’s no way this was a natural phenomenon, so what the hell happened? An attack, or maybe some kind of accident?” Magnifying the image being fed to him through the binoculars, he focused on a section of one of the streets where three bodies were strewn across the ground. The expressions fixed on the Klingons’ faces and the dried blood running from their mouths, noses, and ears told Blair that whatever had caused their deaths, it had been anything but pleasant.
“Perhaps some sort of chemical or biological agent was deployed,” th’Vlene said. The Andorian thaanwas holding up a tricorder, its sensors aimed toward the settlement. “Though it would have to be something we’ve never encountered. I’m not picking up any traces of contaminants in the atmosphere.”
“That’s probably a good thing,” Blair said, “especially considering we’re standing out here in the open, with no sort of protective equipment.” Sensor scans of the planet from orbit had shown no trace of anything untoward, which was the main reason he had opted for a firsthand look at the colony site.
Th’Vlene frowned, adjusting the tricorder’s settings. “However, I am detecting a residual energy signature. It’s like nothing I’ve seen before.”
Blair lowered the binoculars and turned to look as th’Vlene angled the tricorder so that he could see its display. “Send your readings back to the ship. We’ll get the computer chewing on it.” Sighing, he reached up to wipe the light sheen of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “This is a farming colony. Would the Tholians resort to attacking civilians?”
“There are unconfirmed reports that the Klingons have a military installation hidden somewhere on this planet,” th’Vlene replied.
“I’ve read those reports,” Blair said, “but according to Commander Nyn, there’s nothing here to suggest a military presence. According to every scan she ran, this is a farming colony, which makes absolutely no sense, considering everything else this planet has to offer.”
Frowning, th’Vlene replied, “Maybe they got what they wanted simply by laying claim to the planet. If they’re here, then we can’t be, and we can’t conduct mining operations.”
“But you’d think they wouldbe,” Blair countered. He then paused as he realized what his security chief was inferring. “You mean they’re just holding on to this rock for now—saving it for a rainy day.”
Th’Vlene said, “I don’t know why the weather should factor into whatever strategy the Klingons might have for exploiting this planet’s resources.”
His eyes narrowing, Blair chuckled despite the situation and his surroundings, and shook his head. “Are you sureyou’re not a Vulcan?”
By all accounts, the Traelus system had been of interest to the Empire even before their first forays into the Taurus Reach. Traelus II, the world on which Blair and his landing party now stood, was rich in natural resources valued both by the Federation as well as the Klingons. Deposits of dilithium, pergium, rodinium—minerals essential to the operation of modern starships as well as starbases and other land-based facilities—were present across the planet. The system’s proximity to the Tholian border also made it attractive from a strategic point of view, as it was one of a handful of such systems from which military action could be supported in the event of a conflict with Tholian forces. It was these same interests that had motivated the Klingons to stake a claim to Traelus II ahead of the Federation.