Quickly perusing the rest of the information on the data slate, Desai asked, “How many stolen manifests can we positively trace back to Mister Strout?”
“At least a dozen,” Jackson said. “Several of the manifests were for ships that got boarded in deep space by pirates within seventy-two hours of his accessing their logs.”
So close,Desai thought, but still so far.
She put down the data slate. “You’ve put together some very damning information … Petty Officer Strout is inarguably guilty of enabling pirates in this sector to target the most lucrative cargo on the most vulnerable civilian ships. However, after looking over his confession, I notice it contains no mention of anything having to do with the bombing of the Malacca. For that matter, none of the evidence you collected links this suspect to that event in any way, shape, or manner.”
Jackson looked taken aback. “What are you saying? You won’t prosecute him?”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Desai said. “I’ll run Strout’s guts up a flagpole tomorrow at reveille if it makes you happy. There’s enough in here to make sure he dies of old age in a penal colony.” She leaned forward. “What I’m driving at is you came to me asking for warrants so you could investigate the Malaccabombing. But nothing you’ve brought me today links him directly to that case. Frankly, when you poked your face through my door and declared you’d nailed him, I was hoping for something more … relevant.”
The security chief sighed. “I understand. And I know it doesn’t look like I made any progress on the Malaccacase. But I’m convinced Strout is only the tip of the iceberg. And if I’m gonna dig any deeper, I need more help.”
Intrigued, Desai asked, “Such as … ?”
There was a determined look in Jackson’s eyes. “I think Star-fleet Intelligence could decrypt his messages to the Omari-Ekonif someone with enough clout told them to do it. And I’m betting if we could enforce a warrant to review detailed logs of all communication-relay traffic between here and Orion for the past fourteen months, we’d find new clues to the parties behind the Malaccabombing.”
“How very optimistic of you,” Desai said. “Unfortunately, trying to lay claim to that much raw data risks inviting charges of privacy invasion. We’d have to clear a lot of legal hurdles. And the odds are we’d be refused or overturned on appeal.”
“Maybe,” Jackson said. “But we’ll never know until we ask.”
Unable to disagree with his reasoning, Desai relented. “All right,” she said. “I’ll submit a request for the comm logs.”
Rising from his chair, Jackson replied, “Who could ask for anything more?” He stopped at the doorway. “I’ll bet you one of my furlough days we get the logs.”
His challenge made her smile because Jackson had a well-earned reputation on Vanguard: he never lost a bet.
“You’re on,” she said.
Admiral Nogura stood in his office facing a wall-size map of the Taurus Reach. His attention was focused on one highlighted dot more than a hundred light-years rimward of Vanguard’s position. He asked the Starfleet Intelligence liaison, “When did the signal come in?”
“Approximately thirty-nine minutes ago,” said Commander Serrosel ch’Nayla, a middle-aged Andorian chanwho had filled the position formerly occupied by the now-AWOL Lieutenant Commander T’Prynn. “Its arrival was delayed by the lack of sub-space radio relays between here and its point of origin.”
The admiral threw a quizzical look at the blue-skinned, whitehaired humanoid. “I thought we had relays seeded throughout the region.”
“We did,” said ch’Nayla. “The Klingons and Tholians have made a sport of seeking them out and destroying them.”
Nogura felt the muscles in his lean and weathered face tense as he digested that bit of news. “Wonderful.” He nodded at the map. “So what do I need to know about this signal?”
“It’s from a pair of nonofficial-cover agents. They were sent to a planet the Vault team thought might harbor a Shedai artifact, and the agents found one—a Conduit. But before they could make a detailed analysis of the structure, a Klingon D-7 battle cruiser entered orbit. It’s likely the Klingons have established a major presence on the planet’s surface.”
Noting the proximity of the system in question to the border of the Klingon Empire, Nogura said, “It was only a matter of time. We know they’ve been looking for the Shedai artifacts. With that one so close to their space, I’m surprised they didn’t find it sooner.” He turned away from the map. “Did our agents get off the planet safely?”
“No, Admiral,” said ch’Nayla. “They’ve requested a priority extraction by Starfleet.”
Pivoting toward the Andorian, Nogura replied, “I suspect that would provoke more problems than it might solve.”
“I have to concur.” Ch’Nayla keyed in some commands through an interface on the wall. The star map was updated to display the positions of dozens of Klingon military vessels across the Taurus Reach. “Any attempt to extract our agents will only draw attention to them and risk an escalation of hostilities with the Klingons. If the Empire has claimed that world, our presence there could be seen as a breach of the Treaty of Organia.”
“Considering the ink isn’t even dry on that thing yet, that would be bad.” Nogura stroked his chin while he pondered the situation. “Do we know for a fact the Klingons have claimed the planet?”
“Yes. Signal intercepts suggest they have undertaken a campaign to subjugate the local population. Normally, that would not be a matter of immediate concern. However, our two agents on the planet are being sheltered by a local community. If they are discovered, they will almost certainly be tortured and forced to reveal classified information about Operation Vanguard.”
Shaking his head slowly, Nogura said, “This mess just keeps getting bigger the longer I look at it.” He turned away from ch’Nayla and began pacing in front of the star map. “Even if I’m willing to risk sparking a war with the Klingons, that system’s out at the ass end of nothing. It’ll take nearly three months to get anybody out there. Can your people hang on that long?”
Ch’Nayla’s antennae swiveled as if they were tracking Nogura’s back-and-forth ambulations. “I think so,” ch’Nayla said. “One of them is a Starfleet officer who has completed a full SERE program. The other is a civilian operative who has on many occasions proved to be … resourceful.”
“All right,” Nogura said. “Here’s what I want them to do until we’re able to pull them out of the fire. Tell them to inflict as much damage on the Klingons as possible while keeping a low profile. They should focus on sabotage, inciting civil unrest, and, if they’re up for it, guerilla warfare.”
“An extremely hazardous assignment,” ch’Nayla said. “And not exactly one in keeping with their mission parameters.”
Nogura folded his hands behind his back. “Sometimes, Commander, we need to go beyond our limits and exceed our own expectations.” He stopped and faced the Andorian. “This is one of those times.”
“Aye, sir. I will relay your order to the agents.” The lanky chanwalked to Nogura’s side and turned his attention to the star map. “Can I at least assure them truthfully that help is en route?”
“Good question,” Nogura said. He stepped over to the control interface and called up a deployment grid for all Starfleet vessels currently active in the sector. “Now that we have enough reinforcements to maintain steady patrols in the alpha and beta grids, I think we can free up a few ships.” Standing in front of the wall, he pointed at different vessels’ labeled icons. “The Gloucesterand the Buenos Airescan hold the line in the choke point between the Tholians and the Klingons. And the Intrepidis close enough that I can task it to watch the Klingon border.” He folded his arms and tapped one index finger against his upper lip. “If we’re going to make a bid for that distant chunk of rock, we’ll have to go all in. We’ll send the Defiant,the Endeavour,and the Akhiel. That should be enough to make that D-7 bug out of orbit on the double.”