Reyes regarded her with a quizzical expression. “I take it you’ve been read into the project?”
“Yes, sir,” Moyer replied, her attention shifting between Reyes and her data slate. “Admiral Nogura briefed me himself.” She paused, and Reyes noted the uncertainty she was trying to hide.
“I can imagine it was a lot to absorb and accept, even if you didn’t agree with it all,” Reyes said. “How’d that make you feel?”
Looking up from her data slate, Moyer said, “With all due respect, Mister Reyes, my feelings on the subject are irrelevant.”
“They’re relevant if they’re affecting your judgment and how you plan to carry out these debriefing sessions,” Reyes countered, and punctuated his statement with another sip of his coffee.
The commander’s jaw tightened just the slightest bit, but Reyes saw it anyway. “If you’re worried you won’t be fairly represented,” she said, “you can be assured that everything we say here is being recorded, and will be reviewed by Admiral Nogura as well as the Starfleet JAG. My job here is strictly obtaining answers to questions prepared by the admiral as well as Lieutenant T’Prynn, Doctor Marcus, and Lieutenant Xiong.”
Reyes nodded in understanding. “All right, then.”
“Now, you indicated to Admiral Nogura that you believed, at least during the time you were in their custody and based on your interactions with the Klingon ship commander, Kutal, that the Empire does not seem to possess our level of knowledge concerning the Shedai?”
“From what I could gather, no,” Reyes replied. “They obviously know what the Shedai are, and were, and they’ve had their own run-ins with them as well as their technology. That said, everything I saw and heard points to them not having any real insight into the meta-genome and its potential. Oh, there may be, or have been, a few of their scientists who started putting the pieces together, but from what I know, most if not all of those people are dead now.”
Moyer, jotting notes on her data slate, said, “Lieutenant Xiong reported something similar during his time in captivity on Mirdonyae V.” She frowned. “Frankly, that surprises me. We know that the Klingons do employ scientists and engineers—if not their own, then others from species they’ve conquered. They’re certainly not stupid.”
“No, they’re not,” Reyes acknowledged, “but the priorities and focus of those in charge tend to lean more toward the military applications of any plundered technology or equipment. Waiting around for a scientist to figure out that a blob of mold pulled from a rock formation on some uninhabited planet actually contains the building blocks for an entire civilization, weapons included, isn’t something they’re liable to do. They want something that can be employed now, if not sooner.”
“So, you’re saying it’s willful ignorance on the Klingons’ part that they haven’t pursued learning more about the meta-genome?”
Finishing his coffee, Reyes rose from his chair and made his way toward the food slot. “Not at all, Commander. They’re simply looking for the upper hand. Given enough time and the diversion of sufficient resources to the effort, they’re more than capable of figuring out on their own what the meta-genome represents, and what they can do with it if they can ever learn how to work with it. I don’t see that happening any time soon, though. After all, we’ve been screwing with it for more than five years since we first discovered the damned thing, and look where we are.”
“Where are we, exactly?” Moyer asked.
Reyes slid a card into the reader beneath the food slot’s door and pressed a couple of the buttons in the proper sequence. “Assuming Admiral Nogura hasn’t been lying to me, and based on the progress that had been made before I was—as they say—removed from my former position, I know that Xiong and his crew in the Vault have had limited success interfacing with Shedai technology, thanks mostly to the assistance of a Tholian expatriate named Nezrene. The artifact Xiong brought back with him from Mirdonyae V and the one Ganz handed over apparently represent the technology of another race, the Tkon, which might be able to stand toe-to-toe with the Shedai.” Retrieving the fresh cup of coffee from the food slot, he turned and offered Moyer a smile. “How am I doing so far?”
“Not bad, actually,” the commander replied. “Speaking of the Mirdonyae Artifacts, how much about the Shedai do you think Ganz and his people knew, so far as their properties or origin are concerned?”
Shaking his head as he returned to his seat, Reyes said, “Not much, I think. They saw the things as being of some intrinsic value to anyone willing to pay a good price. I’m certain they don’t know anything about the Tkon, at least not beyond tall tales or space legends or whatever you want to call stories you tell at the bar.” Thanks to Nogura—who likely had violated a handful of regulations and security protocols in order to update him on what had been happening while he was away—Reyes knew about the mission undertaken by Cervantes Quinn and Bridget McLellan to retrieve the artifact stolen from the station by one of Ganz’s men on behalf of a Klingon client. He knew also of their journey to the unnamed planet that had emitted traces of the mysterious carrier wave signal Ming Xiong had dubbed the Jinoteur Pattern, and where Quinn and McLellan had come face-to-face with the Shedai entity that had made the entire Jinoteur system simply disappear as though it had never existed. Reyes had given up trying to imagine a race like the Tkon possessing technology that might be on a par with such an astounding display of power. The very idea made his head hurt.
“And what about the Klingons?” Moyer asked. “How much do you suppose they know about the artifacts?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Reyes answered. “They seemed to know that they could interface with Shedai technology, at least to some degree. I’m guessing that had to do with what they learned while Xiong was being held by Klingons on Mirdonyae V, and that’s what motivated the covert mission to steal the artifact from the station.”
Moyer nodded, saying nothing for a moment while she jotted ted more notes on her data slate. “The artifact you helped them to steal?”
Sipping his coffee, Reyes noted the look of accusation in the JAG officer’s eyes, and smiled in approval. “Nicely played, Commander. I’ve already admitted to providing information that allowed the thief to bypass the station’s security measures and get into the Vault. I told all of this to T’Prynn, but I don’t mind repeating it: They were going after that thing, with or without my help. All I did was try and see to it that they didn’t kill anybody along the way.”
“You briefed them on our security codes, protocols, and procedures,” Moyer said.
Reyes tapped a finger on the table. “And you changed all of that ten seconds after the heist was over, right?”
“You did everything but hold the front door open for them.”
“It could just be my imagination,” Reyes said, reaching for his coffee, “but this is starting to sound a little like an interrogation.”
Shaking her head, Moyer replied, “That’s not my intention, sir, but if you helped them to get onto the station and into the Vault, then we need to ascertain what other information you may have given them with respect to the Shedai.”
“None,” Reyes said. “First, because doing so would’ve increased the risk of harm to Starfleet and civilian personnel. Second, they never bothered to ask.”
That gave Moyer pause, and her expression was one of skepticism. “Really?”
“Really. Now, what else do you have?” In truth, Reyes did not mind the line of questioning. It was expected, and Moyer would not be doing her job if she avoided putting forth the pointed queries. He trusted in her ability and willingness to weigh what she was hearing against established facts and find her own way to the objective truth. Rana Desai had always spoken in the highest complimentary terms about the bright young officer and the potential she exuded. If Rana trusted Moyer’s judgment and commitment to carrying out her duties without being waylaid by personal views, that was more than sufficient for Reyes.
A faint metallic tone chirped from Moyer’s data slate, one Reyes recognized as coming from the device’s internal chronometer. She looked down at the unit, tapping her stylus across the slate’s smooth surface.