Nogura’s manner was withering. “With all respect, Doctor, diplomacy isn’t high on our list of priorities concerning the Shedai.” He turned his back on Marcus, faced Xiong, and continued in a more businesslike manner. “Assuming this array works as planned, what would be the risks to the station in a worst-case scenario?”

As he considered the admiral’s question, Xiong was distracted for a moment when he noticed that T’Prynn had moved to stand at the transparent wall of the isolation chamber and was staring intently at the first Tkon artifact they’d ever acquired, the one she herself had helped recover from Klingon forces on a distant planet called Golmira.

Forcing his attention back to the conversation, Xiong said, “A worst-case scenario, from our perspective, would be one that resulted in a massive energy spike from this laboratory’s dedicated power plant into the array, compromising the integrity of the artifacts’ lattices. In such an event, if they were operating at or beyond their intended capacity, that might be enough to permit the Shedai imprisoned within them to break free, as did the one aboard the Lovell. But we have several redundant safeguards against that kind of power spike, sir. Nothing short of catastrophic damage to the system would put us at risk.”

“All right,” Nogura said. “Proceed as planned, and send me daily status updates. Unless there’s a significant development, for better or worse—in that case, notify me immediately.”

“Aye, sir.”

Marcus stepped in front of Nogura. “Admiral, I have serious misgivings about the operation you’re asking us to conduct. Frankly, I don’t think we know anywhere near enough about these artifacts to control them properly, and until we do far more research under controlled conditions, I can’t approve any plan that calls for them to be daisy-chained together into an array whose functions are not only unknown but also potentially disastrous. Even more important, I have to protest the callous disregard that you and Starfleet have shown toward our Shedai captive. Such barbaric treatment of a sentient life-form is an offense against the laws of the Federation and the principles of Starfleet. Until we establish communication with that being, I refuse to subject it to further experimentation.”

Nogura’s resolve never wavered, and his eyes betrayed no sign of anger as he met Marcus’s glare. “First of all, Doctor Marcus, I have not asked the Vault team to conduct this operation, I’ve ordered them to do it. Second, as for your invocation of the laws of the Federation, I see that I must remind you once again that we are not currently in the Federation. Third, I do not need you to lecture me about the principles of Starfleet. I am well aware of my oath and my duty. Fourth, and last, you seem to forget that whatever authority you wield inside this lab is nothing compared to the authority I wield over this station. Your concerns are all noted—and overruled.” He looked at Xiong. “Lieutenant. Tell your team to construct and activate the artifact array with all due haste, and have Doctor Marcus assist you as necessary.”

The admiral walked away while Xiong stood dumbstruck, processing the simultaneous demotion of Carol Marcus and his reinstatement as Director of the Vault, the position he’d held before Marcus’s arrival on Vanguard years earlier. He knew the shock and humiliation she must be feeling at that moment, and it took all his training as a Starfleet officer not to look the least bit pleased about the situation. Marcus, however, wore her dudgeon openly, crossing her arms as she fixed him with a smoldering stare. “I suppose you’ll want the office back,” she said.

“First, I think we should focus on getting the artifacts unpacked and accounted for,” Xiong said. Despite his best intentions, he gloated. “Then I’ll take the office.”

18

Captain Kutal entered the main transporter room of the I.K.S. Zin’za to find his first officer waiting for him. BelHoQ’s lazy stance and saturnine glare radiated disgust as he grumbled, “Has that yIntagh Brakk lost his mind?”

“He claims our channels are being monitored and refuses to share sensitive intel over the comms,” Kutal said. Before his first officer could protest, he added, “I know it’s stupid, but he’s the fleet commander. We have no choice but to do this his way.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the transporter controls. “Beam over his lackey and get this done with.”

BelHoQ stepped back to the transporter controls and activated the system, filling the compartment with the rich hum of charging energizer coils. Kutal kept his true concerns to himself as he faced the platform and awaited Brakk’s courier. It had been less than a week since the Zin’za and the baS’jev had joined Brakk’s ship, the Qu’vang, as its combat escorts. Brakk had wasted no time splitting up Kutal’s and Chang’s ships, immediately ordering the baS’jev on a long-range reconnaissance patrol while keeping the Zin’za close by. Just as Captain Chang had predicted, Brakk—no doubt with prompting from his father, Duras—had pegged Kutal and Chang as hostile operatives of their rival, Gorkon. Regardless, the haste with which Brakk had responded had taken Kutal by surprise. He had expected himself and Chang to be held at arm’s length for a few months while Brakk assessed their strengths and vulnerabilities. Instead, the impulsive young commander had gone directly to dividing and conquering.

Even if I respect him for nothing else, Kutal decided, I have to admire his aggression. But that begs the question: Is he really paranoid about using the comms? Or is this merely a ruse?

“The Qu’vang is signaling ready,” BelHoQ said. “Energizing.”

A crimson flurry of high-energy particles swirled into view above one of the target pads, and within it a Klingon warrior took shape. Seconds later the glow of the beam faded, and the enlisted crewman stepped down and saluted Kutal with his right fist raised against his chest. “Captain Kutal, I bear a message for you from Captain Brakk.” He held out a data card in his left hand. “It is coded for your eyes only, sir.”

Kutal took the data card from the soldier. “Naturally.”

“My orders are to wait here for your encoded reply.”

“Whatever. Stay here. Don’t touch anything.” Kutal headed for the door and subtly cued BelHoQ to follow him. As they left the transporter room, an armed guard entered to keep Brakk’s messenger under watch until they returned.

Neither of them spoke on the walk forward to Kutal’s quarters, but as he led BelHoQ inside, the first officer stopped in the doorway. “He said the message was for your eyes only.”

“Do I look like I give a damn? Get in here, and lock the door behind you.”

BelHoQ secured the door while Kutal crossed to his desk, sat down, and inserted the data card into a slot beside his computer terminal. The imperial emblem, a black trefoil against a red background, appeared on the screen as a guttural, synthetic voice issued from the monitor’s hidden speakers: “State command authorization code.”

“Kutal wa’ pagh SuD loS Hut Doq vagh.”

“Command authorization accepted.” The imperial emblem faded to a vid of Captain Brakk in his office aboard the Qu’vang. It was Kutal’s opinion that Brakk was far too thin, his face too lean, and his hair too short. Worse, his nose seemed perpetually wrinkled, as if he spent every waking moment afflicted by a foul odor only he could detect.

“Greetings, Captain Kutal. You are a clever man, so I’m sure you already suspect there is no actual risk of our communications being intercepted. There are three reasons I have sent you this message in this manner. The first is that our rank and file have no need to know of our roles as pawns in the political games of our betters. The second is that I do not trust you enough to risk coming aboard your vessel. I have reason to believe you and your ship were assigned as my escorts in order to spy upon me for Councillor Gorkon, and possibly to move against me if the opportunity should present itself. I do not intend to give you that opportunity, Captain.