TFV - Operation Vanguard (Chapter 5 continued)
“DuaNam!” Koo’liik’s gravely voice carried across the gestation chamber, causing a flurry of activity as Habertaem scurried about to meet her unexpected intrusion. DuaNam moved from where he had been in conference with a group of other senior administrators, calmly intercepting the obviously agitated representative.
“Bringing these outsiders here is a violation of our benefactor’s trust!” Koo’liik was a gelatinous-looking multiform which appeared like a mass of translucent jelly lit from within by shifting primary colors. It was unusual for one of her species, the Telieu, to appear uninvited in the Habertaem’s gestation crèche. It was not forbidden for her to be here, but it was a breach of protocol and bordered on being shockingly so in its deliberate boorishness.
DuaNam took the intrusion in stride, consciously downplaying the discourtesy of the interruption. “They have never prohibited our contact with other outsiders,” he noted calmly.
“The only ‘contact’ they wish for us to engage in is drawing refugees into their feeding nets,” Koo’liik spat venomously.
“True,” DuaNam countered. “But these are not refugees or nomads, they are explorers.”
“The explorers as you call them will sate the benefactors’ hunger all the same.”
DuaNam’s voice took on an unaccustomed edge. “These outsiders have advanced technology and have offered to help us all throw off the genetic shackles the Husnock imprisoned us in.”
“Without the benefactors, we would have been overcome years ago,” Koo’liik pressed. “We have served them faithfully, and we have been rewarded with peace and prosperity.”
DuaNam skittered on his clacking legs over to where Koo’liik rested. “Is this prosperity, Representative Koo’liik? Is it? Merely to survive while trapped in these monstrous forms? Our every waking moment is an agonizing reminder of what we once were, and could be again. Do you recall what the Telieu used to look like? Your people were grand, noble beings, all scales and feathers and ferocious teeth, mighty carnosaurs with the gentlest of dispositions and the wisdom of the ancient scholars!”
“That ended with the Husnock,” Koo’liik snapped. “Despite all that has been done to us, we yet live! How many others species were extinguished by the Husnock, or in the endless war that followed their departure?”
“We will pay the benefactors their tribute as we have since the Bargain was struck, but they have no facility for, nor any interest in restoring us.” DuanNam pointed out.
Koo’liik rejoined, “At least not without feasting at their table, an act which we all agreed we’d rather perish than take part in.”
DuaNam observed, “There at least we are in agreement, Representative.” The Habertaem leader raised one manipulator in mollifying gesture. “Let us explore a cooperative relationship with the newcomers, Koo’liik. If they come to pose a threat to our prior obligations, we will simply ask them to leave. Their rules of conduct demand that they respect and comply with any such request.”
“And if they go back on their word and refuse to leave?” Koo’liik asked pointedly.
“Then the Amon shall feast well,” DuaNam answered darkly.
*****
Sandhurst glanced up as Verrik strode through the ready room doors in answer to the captain’s summons. The Vulcan officer drew himself up into a formal stance, a habit which Sandhurst had long since stopped trying to break.
Gesturing towards his desktop display, Sandhurst queried, “Okay, I just read your report on In’Drahn’s weapons array, but I can’t say I’m completely understanding your supposition that they’re not in control of their own defense grid.”
Verrik looked vaguely perturbed. “I apologize if I did not make myself sufficiently clear, Captain.”
“No, Lieutenant, I comprehend what you’re saying,“ Sandhurst smiled patiently. “I just require some greater detail as to the particulars.”
“Indeed, sir,” Verrik replied. “The variable thoron emitters laced throughout the hull of the space station make accurate sensor reading of the interior very difficult, as we noted upon our arrival here. Subsequent scans taken from inside the structure, however, indicate that the station’s weapons arrays have no hard-line, waveguide, or wireless command and control links to any of the station’s internal systems.”
Sandhurst leaned back slightly in his chair as he absorbed that. “So… who’s controlling their defensive systems?”
“Unknown,” Verrik said.
“Do you believe they’ve been deceiving us intentionally?”
Verrik paused, weighing his response. “At no time in my discussions with the Habertaem or their allies have any of their representatives specifically addressed opening fire on the wrecked vessels in orbit. The circumstances leading up to that engagement have only been alluded to, and even then, only vaguely. That said, their sin may be more one of omission than deliberate misdirection.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that they’re keeping secrets,” Sandhurst mused. “In a First Contact situation, the contactees rarely put all their cards on the table right away.”
“Is this matter worth addressing with them,” Verrik asked, “or should we simply continue with our negotiations as before?”
“For now, we’ll leave it,” Sandhurst decided. “I don’t expect them to tell us everything up front, but if it becomes a safety and security issue down the line, we’ll reserve the right to address it with them.”
“Understood, sir.”
Sandhurst seemed on the cusp of dismissing his chief of security, but then thought better of it. “How are the Marines settling in, Lieutenant?”
“Reasonably well so far,” the Vulcan replied. “I have incorporated them into our security division training, and we are integrating our personnel to share shipboard duties.”
The captain nodded approvingly. “Good to hear. And how are you getting on with young Lieutenant Tiedermeyer?”
“Mister Tiedermeyer is indeed young, as well as ambitious, headstrong, and arrogant,” Verrik assessed. “He is everything I would expect of a junior Marine officer.”
Sandhurst looked at Verrik with guarded curiosity. “And that isn’t a problem?”
“For a Starfleet officer, yes, it would be. However, Lieutenant Tiedermeyer is a Marine officer. They are a breed apart.”
“Many of the characteristics you listed would seem incompatible with that of a good leader,” Sandhurst mused skeptically.
“The Marines function as the Federation’s warriors, sir. Their casualty statistics during and since the war bear that out. As such, they must espouse a warrior ethos that demands strict discipline and above-average levels of aggressiveness, even in the face of overwhelming odds. Such aggression requires a certain level of arrogance and naiveté.”
Sandhurst smiled ever so slightly. “That almost sounds like admiration, Lieutenant.”
“No, sir,” Verrik demurred. “It is merely a recitation of observable facts.”
As he inclined his head toward the security man, Sandhurst offered, “Thank you for your input, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”
*****
The shuttle Lisbon navigated slowly through the waste zone, utilizing her bow thrusters to avoid various chunks of spacecraft debris that proved too large for her navigational deflectors to push aside.
Lisbon and her sister shuttles had been trolling the flotsam disc accreted in orbit of the planet around which In’Drahn was stationed. Europa’s finely attuned sensors sought out the most promising bits of wreckage and then directed the shuttles in to recover them for further analysis.
“Junk,” Engineering Specialist Morovska assessed. “And junk, and more junk, and oh, here’s some mildly radioactive junk.”
Seated next to him, Petty Officer Carnegie rolled her eyes. “You know, after eight hours in here with you, I’ve come to the inescapable conclusion that you’re a real ray of sunshine.”
“Please,” Morovska’s sigh was laced with tedium, “tell me you’re having fun. I dare you.”
“This isn’t supposed to be fun,” she chided. “We’re working here, remember?”
Morovska groaned and leaned his head back against the seat’s neck rest. “Sifting space garbage is not what I’d envisioned when I was assigned to the task force. The excitement and intrigue of a challenging deep space exploration assignment…” he yawned theatrically.
“Would you rather have been assigned to one of the other intercept groups right now that’s locked in a running battle with an oncoming threat fleet?” she asked, her earlier humor evaporating in the heat of her growing irritation.
He glanced over at her, his expression growing sour to match her own. “You’ve been awake a full three weeks since coming out of cryo, Carnegie. I’ve been working for almost seven months, first on an exhausting redesign and rebuild of the warp drive and now on this scintillating refuse recovery mission.”
“Okay,” she conceded, “fair point.”
Morovska’s panel began to chime insistently, demanding his attention. “Here’s the bit Europa sent us after,” he said as he pointed to the sensor return of a roughly three-square meter chunk of refined metals.
“You’re the engineer, any idea what it is… or was?”
“No clue,” Morovska replied. “We’ll have to get it back to the ship and run a complete analysis series on it.”
A higher pitch alarm trilled on Carnegie’s board, prompting her to look at the navigational display. “Proximity alarm,” she observed, her tone one of concern.
Morovska looked down at his own panel, frowning. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s the navigational deflector,” Carnegie explained as she worked to diagnose the problem. “Sensors say there’s nothing there, but the deflectors are registering something with definite mass at those coordinates.”
“Well, which is it?” Morovska scowled as he tried in vain to adjust the sensors’ acuity to reveal whatever the deflectors thought they’d detected.
Instead of answering her partner’s decidedly rhetorical question, Carnegie toggled the comms to the starship. “Lisbon to Europa, we’ve closed with the debris you identified, but something in our vicinity appears to have tripped the nav-deflectors. The problem is that nothing’s showing on sensors. Can you scan our immediate vicinity and advise?”
Lieutenant Juneau’s voice issued from the comms interface. “Europa copies, Lisbon. Stand-by.”
*****
Juneau illuminated the area immediately surrounding the shuttle with a scant fraction of the starship’s cumulative sensor power. Fully seventy-five percent of Europa’s sensor capability was being used to probe nearby sectors for signs of the expected incoming alien formations.
Energy bathed the shuttle, unexpectedly interacting with something that both was, and yet was not there.
A multitude of alarms in the shuttle’s cockpit were tripped simultaneously, and as the competing klaxons wailed in protest, the flight control panel flared with flashing red tell-tails.
The unexpected cacophony startled Morosvka so much that he reflexively recoiled from the control panel. “What the hell is—“
There was a barely perceptible flash from outside, visible through the cockpit window as a diffuse burst of generalized energy. Carnegie and Morovska slumped awkwardly in their seats as the alarms continued to scream.
*****
