Star Trek: ALL - Seven Deadly Sins (25 page)

“It’s the
Kursa.
. . .” husked the glinn. “Hailing us.”

Kein opened the channel without waiting for Enkoa to order it.

Jagul Hanno was abruptly there, his cut-granite face darker than she had ever seen it before.
“Enkoa!”
He spat out the name with undisguised fury.
“Stand down! In the Union’s name, man, what do you think you are doing?”

The dal fought to keep his voice level, his knuckles turning white where he gripped his command chair. “There is an enemy outpost on the planet. A weapons stockpile. They were preparing an attack on the Dorvan—”

“You know this how?”
demanded the jagul.
“You, the commander of a mere escort, have access to intelligence that a fleet admiral does not?”

“I do,” Enkoa insisted. “I have learned certain facts . . .” He paused and swallowed hard. “We recovered a military probe and the data in its memory core led us to—”

Hanno cut him off again.
“Show me now.”

Kein took the command and transmitted a full download directly into
Kursa
’s computer core. From the corner of her eye she could see
the sensor readout tracking the other
Galor
-class ship, Matrik’s
Fell.
From the energy glow issuing from the warp coils of both vessels, they must have made a dash to the Setlik system at emergency speed all the way.
Not fast enough, though,
she mused.

Hanno disappeared from the screen for long moments, and when he returned he wore the face Kein remembered from her ascendance ceremony. Cold and hard, fueled by something past rage, past duty.

“This is your motive?”
The jagul’s lip curled in disgust.
“Only this?”

“It’s enough,” Enkoa replied, and he blinked, as if he was surprised by his own sudden show of defiance. “Scan the outpost below.”

“You do not give me commands,”
Hanno hissed.
“I want you and your executive officer aboard the
Kursa
immediately.”
The signal cut, returning the viewscreen to its default forward view. Kein could see the blades of the cruiser’s forward hull and beyond it, the curvature of Setlik III. Dark lines of color were just visible from plumes of wind-borne ash and smoke.

She looked past Enkoa; his face had taken on the pallor of corpse flesh. “Glinn,” she called to Lleye. “You have the bridge.”

“A-acknowledged,” said the junior officer, fighting down a stammer.

“Yes,” said Enkoa, after a moment. “This should not take long.”

A pair of enlisted men awaited them in
Kursa
’s transporter room, two garresh with holstered pistols on their belts. Enkoa gave them a wavering glance.

“Jagul’s orders, sir,” said the senior of the two. “If you’ll follow us?”

Enkoa glanced at Kein as they walked along the warship’s corridors. “What did he mean,
only this?
” The dal wrung his hands. “He’s not blind. He must have seen the same thing I did.”

He wanted something from her, she realized, something reassuring. Kein did not provide it. Instead, she walked briskly, in step with the two troopers.

The enlisted men waited outside as the dalin and dal entered the jagul’s duty room. It was bigger than the footprint of Enkoa’s private cabin and Kein’s combined, but the design was the same as the one aboard the
Lakar.
A desk, wall screens, chairs, but with a ceiling that
did not feel as if it were pressing down upon her back. Kein stood a little taller, and once more schooled her expression into a mask of stony detachment.

Every muscle in Hanno’s face was corded and tight, wound hard like steel cables. He radiated anger to such a degree that Kein was concerned he might actually be moved to physical violence.

“Are you so eager to shed blood that you are willing to open fire on a civilian target?” The officer’s voice was low and loaded with menace.

“Sir, that’s only a cover. Setlik III is the staging post for an attack. I’m convinced of it.”

“Yes, you obviously are,” Hanno growled. He picked up a padd and brandished it. “And clearly it takes very little to convince you of anything.” He tossed the tablet across the desktop. “This intelligence is riddled with holes. It’s worthless, full of unsubstantiated facts and unconfirmed data.” The jagul pointed a thick finger at him. “You overlooked that, either through misguided fervor or outright stupidity.”

Enkoa’s mouth opened and closed in shock at the comment. “Sir . . .”

“Did you think that just because you bedded my brother’s flighty daughter you were granted some kind of special dispensation to ignore orders, Dal Enkoa?” He bared his teeth. “Did you mistake my civility toward you for leniency on my part?”

Before Enkoa could respond, Hanno turned the full force of his ire on Kein; but she was ready for it, and she didn’t flinch. “And you, Dalin.” He ground out the words. “You stood by and let this happen.”

“I did nothing of the kind, sir.” She kept her gaze centered firmly on a point somewhere beyond the bulkhead behind the jagul. Kein saw Enkoa react as if he had been slapped.

Opportunities arise,
said a calm and metered voice in her thoughts.
All that needs to be done is to let it happen.

“Explain!” barked Hanno.

“I expressed my concerns to Dal Enkoa over this break from orders on several occasions. He overruled me.”

“No,” Enkoa insisted. “You agreed with me.”

“I sent the signal that alerted Tantok Nor,” she continued. The moment the words left her mouth, a strange sensation filled her. Kein
felt an immediate absence of rage, of all the irritation and disgust that had been her constant companions these past weeks. She felt light, buoyed on a wave of something strong and potent. Kein could feel the spite and resentment that she had been nursing all this time, flooding her, carrying her like a rising tide—a tide she would let Enkoa drown in.

“What signal?” said the dal. “I ordered no communications!”

Hanno’s expression shifted, and for a moment she wondered if he was aware of her thoughts, her intentions. Was it written large across her expression, her bone-deep loathing for foolish, foolish Enkoa? “The signal alerted us that the
Lakar
had diverted from its patrol pattern,” said the jagul. “At first I suspected an ambush . . .” He trailed off, then refocused, turning his ire back toward the other man. “I did not expect an officer of the Cardassian Union to attempt to start a war on his own!”

Enkoa’s hands moved. “The settlement conceals military equipment. The scans prove it!” His voice rose an octave.

Hanno’s tones became thunderous. “Those readings are from farming equipment! Experimental technologies invented by the Federation’s Vulcan cohorts, designed to planetform the surface of worlds like that one!” He stepped out from behind the desk and crossed toward them.

The dal blinked. “But … if that was known, then why was that information not in the
Lakar
’s data banks?”

“Because that information is known only to the Obsidian Order,” came the growled reply, “and it is known to me only because agents in my employ have stolen that data from them, along with other, far more important materials. Materials that allow me to maintain my position and status.” He glared at Enkoa, who withered under the jagul’s iron-hard gaze. “If that data was made widely available, the Order would become aware of a breach in their information security and would move to amend it. Now you have placed me in a very difficult situation, Dal. Your reckless actions will have consequences you cannot even begin to guess at!”

“No,” Enkoa insisted, “no. That’s not it at all.” He threw a look at Kein, desperation in his eyes, pleading with her to help him, even though she had thrown him to the hounds just moments before.

She enjoyed the thrill she got from ignoring him.

“You attacked the Setlik III colony without provocation,” Hanno pronounced, his voice becoming level and cold. “There were no Starfleet forces there massing for a secret attack. They were noncombatants, Enkoa. Even though the Federation are our adversaries, the malicious slaughter of civilians is something I will never tolerate under my command.” He looked away, revolted. “There were entire families down there. Their murder is unacceptable.”

“I am a soldier of the Union,” Enkoa insisted. “All I have ever wanted is to serve Cardassia and defeat her enemies . . .” He gasped, and Kein saw a fraction of the certainty he had shown on the
Lakar
’s bridge briefly return. “You prevented me from doing that, sir. I see nothing wrong in what I have done.”

Hanno accepted this with a nod. “Yes, that is clear. The error here is mine.” He reached up and Enkoa flinched, clearly afraid for one second that the jagul was going to strike him. But the officer simply reached for the rank sigil on the other man’s duty armor and detached it with a twist of his fingers. “I relieve you of your command, Laen Enkoa,” he said, grim-faced. “You are under arrest, pending a full investigation into your actions here.” Hanno touched a tab on his wrist communicator and the door opened to admit the two troopers. “Put him in containment,” said the jagul.

“But, my ship—” Enkoa protested, straining against the grip of the soldiers.

Hanno nodded toward Kein. “It’s the Union’s ship. It was never yours.”

Then the door closed and they were alone. The jagul gave her that same measuring stare once again. For the first time, Kein matched Hanno and met his gaze, unafraid, waiting for him to speak.

She waited for him to admit his mistakes in choosing Enkoa over her. She waited for him to acknowledge that she was the superior, that it had been her intelligence, her daring that had saved the lives of the
Rekkel
crew, her loyalty to Cardassia that had alerted him to Enkoa’s irresponsibility. She waited for all these things to be said.

Hanno finally broke the silence and turned away from her. “Take command of the
Lakar
and bring it back to Tantok Nor.” He gave nothing else, dismissing her with a flick of his hand.

When Kein rematerialized in the escort’s tiny transporter alcove, she found Glinn Lleye waiting for her. He glanced at the other, empty transport pad and then back to her.

“Where is the dal?” he asked.

She pushed past the junior officer, heading for the bridge. “You won’t see him again.”

She rose into Tantok Nor’s operations center inside the open-walled elevator, drawing a few cursory looks from the staff on duty. A Kelrabi—a trustee of some sort, she surmised—backed away from the lift platform and allowed her to exit, clutching a tricorder to its chest in an unconscious gesture of self-protection. The alien took the elevator back down as she glanced around the domed chamber. A female glinn at the main systems table in the middle of the room looked up and nodded toward the raised upper level, to the copper doors of the station gul’s office. “He’s waiting for you,” she said.

Kein had never seen the other female officer before, and for a moment she wondered how the glinn knew her identity. But then news traveled fast on any military outpost; she wondered what they were saying about her on Tantok Nor behind her back, and she wondered about the glinn.

Did she already have an understanding of how hard a road she was on? What lessons was she learning from Kein and her conduct?

The young officer looked away, but Kein wasn’t finished with her yet. “You,” she said, demanding her attention once again. “A question.”

“Yes, Dalin?”

“The refectory down on the main concourse, the one with the long booths and the open frontage.”

“By the quartermaster’s office?”

She gave a nod. “It’s closed. Every time I’ve been on this station it’s been open around the clock.”

“I never visited it.” The glinn’s brow furrowed; clearly the question wasn’t what she had expected. “I believe the facility has been shut down for refurbishment, ma’am. The storefronts down there, they’re civilian interests under contract to the Fleet. They only have short
leases from the station’s support office.” She reached for a panel on her bowed console. “I could contact the chief of logistics if you wish me to. They will have details of the contractors—”

Kein shook her head. “No.” She looked away. There would be no point. Somehow, the moment she stepped through the cogwheel hatch of the airlock, she had known that the place … that
he
would be gone.

With swift, purposeful pace she climbed the steps to the station gul’s office and saw through the windows in the doors Tantok Nor’s commander and Jagul Hanno standing at either end of a curved desk. Hanno caught sight of her and beckoned her in. Kein entered as the two men continued their conversation, content to let her wait.

Station Gul Relaw was speaking. “Gul Matrik reports that the deployment has gone without incident. They have secured an encampment in an area known locally as the Barrica Valley, some distance from the remains of the Federation settlement. Setlik III has now formally been annexed by the Cardassian Union.”

“For the moment,” Hanno noted. “Order him to have the
Fell
maintain a wide patrol perimeter until reinforcements can arrive to relieve them.”