17

It was far too early in the morning, Reyes had slept much too little the previous night, and the coffee was barely strong enough to merit the name. Despite the carefully balanced climate controls inside the starbase, he felt the same rising wall of pressure in his sinuses that he had felt on landing missions just before storms broke. Leaning forward in his chair, he rested his elbows on his desk, cupped his face in his hands, and exhaled a long, tired breath that was heavy with frustration.

The other four people in his office waited patiently for his moment of dismayed fatigue to pass.

Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Xiong occupied the chairs in front of his desk. Standing against opposite walls, flanking the two seated officers like rooks at either end of a chessboard, were Jetanien and T’Prynn.

Reyes spent a few seconds massaging the bone around his eye socket. It ached deeply. “Lieutenant,” he said at last, “what part of ‘classified’ did you not understand?”

“I presume that’s a rhetorical question, sir?”

“Do you think humor is your best tactic here, son?” Taking the commodore’s meaning perfectly, Xiong said nothing.

“It’s not his fault,” Kirk said. “I gave him no choice.”

“That’s very noble of you, Captain,” Reyes said. “It’s also a complete load of crap.” Kirk clearly meant to press his case, but Reyes kept going. “He could have briefed you in private, or told you only about the artifact. Instead he gave you—and most of your senior officers—the entire history of the project.”

“True,” Kirk said. “And my officers gave you one of the best leads you’ve had on this project since it started.”

“Also true,” Reyes said, though it galled him to admit it. He glared again at Xiong. “And completely irrelevant.”

Kirk stood, apparently for no other reason than dramatic effect. “So what now?” He paused behind his chair and leaned on the back of it. “Unbreak the egg?” Talking and walking, he took a few steps toward T’Prynn. “Court-martial a young officer who only wanted to share what he thought was vital information?” Circling around toward Jetanien, he continued, “Ask Starfleet to relieve me of command?” He saved his big finish for his last turn, back toward Reyes. “Or maybe shanghai my ship and crew into your service?”

“None of the above,” Reyes said.

Xiong looked relieved. Kirk looked surprised.

Moving away from the wall to loom over Reyes’s desk, Jetanien entered the conversation. “A court-martial, though it would be an eminently appropriate remedy for Lieutenant Xiong, is not a viable response at this time.” Spreading his arms in a gesture of acceptance, he added, “Let us just say it would be an exceedingly delicate matter to argue under the rules of Starfleet jurisprudence.”

“You mean it’d be an embarrassment,” Kirk said cynically.

“No, Captain,” T’Prynn said, still content to remain at a slight remove from the discussion. “It would be a national-security disaster for the Federation.”

“Which naturally brings us back to the topic that initially brought us here,” Jetanien said. “The attack on the Bombay. Since our earliest scout flights pushed into this region, there have been rumblings of discontent from the Tholian Assembly and the Klingon Empire. Although a major initiative such as Operation Vanguard cannot help but provoke the ire of our rivals, one of our chief priorities is the avoidance of hostilities—at any cost.”

Tapping two fingers on the cover of Kirk’s report, Reyes said, “Are your people sure it was the Tholians who destroyed her? Because I can’t work with educated guesses and maybes.”

“We’re sure,” Kirk said. “My chief engineer confirmed that the wreckage of four Tholian cruisers was mixed with the debris from the Bombay. And the data on the log buoy indicates that just prior to their attack, they had detected six Tholian ships closing on attack vectors. The evidence is solid.”

“Good,” Reyes said. For a moment, he allowed himself to be impressed by the fact that Hallie Gannon had taken out four enemy ships; then he had to remind himself that she and her crew were still dead.

Like an angry dog pulling at its leash, Kirk seemed eager to spring back into action. “What’s our response?”

“Your response,” Reyes said, “is to go back to the Enterprise, purge all data regarding the Ravanar mission and Operation Vanguard from your databanks, and never talk about any of this with anyone ever again. I’m granting you and your men retroactive security clearance so I won’t have to string up Mr. Xiong by his thumbs, but he’ll be spending the next few months serving the most horrible duty assignments I can find.”

“Let me rephrase,” Kirk said. “What response will you be recommending to Starfleet and the Federation Council?”

Jetanien interposed himself subtly between Kirk and Reyes. “We will consider a variety of appropriate courses of action, Captain. Our current circumstances afford us a significant degree of latitude in our decision-making.”

Kirk wasn’t a tall man to begin with, but standing in the shadow of Jetanien’s massive bulk exaggerated that fact. What he lacked in height, however, he clearly made up for with tenacity. “That sounds like a very diplomatic way of saying we’re not going to do anything.”

“My interpretation might differ from yours,” Jetanien said.

His face reddening with indignation, Kirk shouldered past Jetanien and leaned halfway across Reyes’s desk. “Don’t tell me we’re going to bury this. The Tholians ambushed a Starfleet vessel. They killed more than two hundred men and women.” He pounded his fist on the desktop. “It was an act of war!”

“A full-scale conflict with the Tholian Assembly would compromise our mission in the Taurus Reach,” Jetanien said. “We have to weigh the costs of the Bombay’s loss against—”

Kirk raged at Jetanien, “Weigh the costs?” Glowering at Reyes, he said, “He’s talking about politics—I’m talking about justice!”

“You’re done talking, Captain,” Reyes said. “You ship out in three days. I suggest you use that time to work on your temper. Dismissed.”

The fair-haired young captain straightened his posture into one of proud defiance. He looked down at Lieutenant Xiong. “You deserve better. Push for the court-martial.” Turning on his heel, Kirk walked in smooth, confident strides toward the door.

As it opened, T’Prynn spoke, halting him at the threshold. “I know you think justice was betrayed here, Captain.” He cast an angry look over his shoulder at her. She added, “But believe me when I tell you that justice has a very long memory.”

Kirk said nothing more. He walked out and the door closed behind him.

Reyes concealed his annoyance as Xiong struggled not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room, even though everyone was now looking directly at him. “So how ’bout it, Lieutenant? You want to push for that court-martial?”

“No, sir.”

“Smart boy. Dismissed.”

Xiong snapped out of his seat and was gone from the office before the order was ten seconds old.

The commodore shook his head and frowned. “Best field archaeologist in Starfleet. And the biggest pain in the ass.”

“With great talent often comes great impudence,” Jetanien said.

“You’re just making that up,” Reyes said.

“I was wondering how long it would take before you finally caught me.” Shifting his mood back to the serious, he continued, “This sudden increase in hostilities by the Tholians places us in a dangerous bind, Commodore. If the details of this attack reach the Federation Council, they will almost certainly insist on declaring war against the Tholian Assembly. Once we are so engaged, our forces will be unable to secure the Klingon border, and the Klingons are practically guaranteed to seize the opportunity to push into the Taurus Reach. If we permit this attack to take us to battle on one front, we will inevitably face a war on both fronts—and that is a war we cannot win.”