Star Trek: The Fall: The Poisoned Chalice (25 page)

Tuvok saw no reason to be anything but completely honest. “I do not know,” he said, glancing back out of the tear in the wreck's hull and into the windstorm.

*  *  *

“That's not what I'm saying,” said Maslan, reaching for a cup of fruit juice.

“Yes it is.” Kader made a face at the
Lionheart
's science officer, absently brushing a stray thread of hair back into the confines of her headscarf. “You're suggesting that Commander Vale's assignment is part of some kind of . . .” She groped for the right word. “
Plot
.”

At her side, Lieutenant Commander Darrah made an amused noise and took a bite from his lunch. The only other person seated at their table in the mess hall was the first officer, and Atia's attention seemed fully and completely on the replicated meatloaf she was eating.

“Okay, fine,” Maslan replied. “Maybe I'm overstating it. But you have to concede that it is unusual.”

Darrah mimicked the pose of a cleric at benediction. “Starfleet Command, like the Will of the Prophets, moves in mysterious ways.”

“Thompson agrees with me,” continued Maslan. “He knows someone on McKinley Station. He said there have been a lot of odd comings and goings from the
Titan
.” He glanced at Atia. “I mean, okay, after Captain Briggs retired, we all knew this ship would be getting a new CO . . . but suddenly Vale is dropped on us, hours before we're due to set off across the quadrant. And it's just supposed to be a temporary posting, but couldn't that be handled by, you know, one of
us
?”

Atia gave him a sideways look but didn't say anything.

Darrah sighed and put down his fork. “I think it's safe to say we're all somewhat surprised by this turn of events. But we're in the middle of an ongoing crisis here. A major terrorist attack was just successfully perpetrated against the Federation. . . .”

“And now your man is in charge,” said Maslan.

The Bajoran eyed him. “Ishan Anjar is certainly not
my man
.” He shook his head, returning to the point at hand. “What I mean is, after the assassination, you can't blame Starfleet for being cautious.”

“Agreed,” said Kader. “But then again, Seth does raise a valid concern. That whole diversion to Jaros II? And
now we're going off the route again to some uncharted system? I'd like to know what it all means.”

“My point exactly,” insisted Maslan, spearing a piece of celery and crunching down on it.

“Captain's prerogative,” countered Darrah. “She doesn't have to tell us anything if she doesn't want to.”

Kader shrugged. “Not exactly a good command style, though. I mean, if
Lionheart
has been co-opted into some high-security mission, how does keeping the bridge crew in the dark help?”

Darrah glanced at the engineer. “Has it occurred to you, Basoos, that we might be outside the loop because it's
safer
that way?”

“Oh, great,” said the woman dryly. “That makes me feel
much
better.”

“I don't have anything against Vale,” Maslan went on, his lip curling. “But I still don't like it.”

“What you like counts little,” Atia said at last as she was cutting at her food. “Fall to purpose. Assumptions breed mistakes.”

“With respect, Commander,” said the science officer. “Any senior officer who deliberately withholds important information from their senior staff has to be up to something. And if we're potentially going in harm's way, with a captain who we don't know and can't anticipate, that's a recipe for disaster. I'll do my duty; we all will. But as Hayn said, the situation is serious right now, and . . .” Maslan suddenly noticed that everyone else at his table had gone very quiet. “And she's standing right behind me, isn't she?”

“Is this seat taken?” asked Vale, dropping down next to the first officer, depositing her lunch tray before her. She looked around at all of them, with a fixed smile. “So. What's good?”

“Try the
hasperat,
” said Darrah, pointing with his fork. “It's tasty.”

“Um. Captain Vale.” Maslan tried and failed to find the right words. “I, um—” His combadge chirped and the science officer swatted at it, thankful for the interruption. “Maslan!”

“Seth, it's Alex. Got an incoming personal message for you. Thought you'd like to know.”

“Great.” He stood up quickly. “I'll take that in my quarters. . . .”

“Saved by the bell?” Vale said quietly.

Maslan took a swift exit, and in the awkward silence that followed, Kader and Darrah also made their excuses and stepped away. After a moment, Vale looked up and found Atia watching her.

“Apologies,” said the commander. “It is just . . . your predecessor was of more conventional manner.”

“I'm sure you'll adjust,” Vale replied.

*  *  *

Within a couple of hours, the assault operation on IN-748 was officially concluded, and Active Four was recalled to the
Snipe
. The bodies of the sentries killed in the engagement—the one shot down by Kincade, another ended in hand-to-hand combat with Ashur, and two more lost in a firefight by the shuttle—were in a stasis compartment. The four prisoners, Onar Throk among them, were being held in one of the freighter's other loading bays. What Nog had thought were just cargo container pods were revealed to be portable cells, each big enough for a single humanoid, each sealed off from the others so their targets could not communicate while in their confinement.

Zero-Zero and One-One had transported down to the surface to help the Ferengi pull the computer core
from the disabled shuttlecraft while Sahde and Tom scoured the Orion wreck for any materials or equipment used by the targets. Once they had all they could recover, it had been another painful jaunt back via the folded-space transporters to the ship. Now Iota Nadir was just a fading memory, and the
Snipe
was heading back toward the Federation core worlds at warp speed. The mood among the Active Four team was muted and wary.

Khob had insisted on taking Tuvok back to the
Snipe
's small sickbay to check him over, along with Ashur, who had come off worse for wear in a knife-fight with a Cardassian twice his size.

The Zeon came wandering into the main cargo bay where the rest of the group was assembled, his arm swathed in bandages. He was sweaty and pallid, and with a jaundiced eye he surveyed the piles of gear gathered up from the planet below. “What's the point of all this?” He kicked at a pile of salvaged ration packs. “We found them; mission accomplished. Must we sift through their trash as well?” Ashur found Kincade, who stood nearby examining a tricorder. “We're done. I for one would like my . . . remuneration as promised and to be on my way.” He looked for Tom Riker and the Bynars, seeking agreement from the other mercenaries. “Don't you feel the same?”

It was Sahde who finally said what they all were thinking. “I don't think this is over yet, Ashur.”

Tuvok entered the compartment, and Nog saw that he was still moving a little stiffly, although the color had returned to his tawny features. “Commander . . .”

The Vulcan nodded. “Mister Nog. Have any of the prisoners spoken?”

Kincade answered first. “Not a word. I suppose that's to be expected.”

“Really?” Tom shot her a look. “Because nothing about what we encountered down there was what
I
expected.”

“I don't recall any promises made that this mission would be straightforward,” she replied, frowning. Nog couldn't tell if it was Tom's challenge or the matter itself that was vexing her.

“Tom Riker's point—”

“Is well made.” The two Bynars spoke in a quick-fire chorus. “Assassin suspect was—”

“First thought to be Bajoran.”

“That was revealed to be—”

“Falsehood. Tzenkethi suspected instead.”

Sahde was nodding. “I thought the Cardassians were supposed to be the allies of the Federation.” She glanced at Nog and Tuvok. “Now it seems like they were part of a plot to kill your president?” The Elloran gave an expansive shrug. “Or am I misunderstanding something?”

Nog picked up a Cardassian padd and offered it up. “This contains manifesto documents and propaganda materials for an isolationist group called the True Way. I know them of old, from Bajor. They blame the Federation for all of Cardassia's ills. They're not shy about planting bombs or killing anyone they deem deserving of it.”

“Which would make them the perfect cat's-paw for the Tzenkethi,” grated Ashur. He spat on the deck. “Must we seek out their paymasters now? I took on this task with a deal to find the killers of the Bacco woman. We've done that.”

“Perhaps the Tzenkethi and the Typhon Pact were never part of this conspiracy,” said Tuvok, without weight. He let the statement lay for a moment before
he continued. “They have claimed their innocence in this matter. They may be truthful.”

Sahde gave a bitter laugh. “You've obviously never met a Tzenkethi or a Breen or any one of their Pact collaborators, Tuvok. If you had, you'd know they're nothing more than a clutch of backstabbers and liars.” Nog heard the venom in her tone and wondered what might have happened in the Elloran's past to make her have such hatred for the Typhon Pact.

“I don't think the rest of the Federation would be as willing as you are to give them the benefit of the doubt,” said Kincade, stepping closer to the Vulcan. “Back on the planet, that one you captured, Throk . . . he had you cold. I could have taken him out, but you blocked my shot. Why?”

“If Throk was now dead, what would we have?” Tuvok replied.

“One less murderer in the galaxy,” said Sahde.

Kincade was watching Tuvok carefully. “Justice?”

“That wouldn't be justice,” said Nog, the words coming to him almost before he was aware of it. “That would be revenge.”

Ashur snorted with derision. “A moral homily from a Ferengi? Your ancestors would be ashamed.”

Nog met the other man's gaze. “My ancestors also came up with the Eighty-eighth Rule of Acquisition: ‘Vengeance will cost you everything.' ”

A double beep sounded, and Kincade frowned, drawing a communicator from her belt. “What is it, Ixxen?”

“A holomessage packet has just come in for you on the hyperchannel,”
said the Bolian.

“Pipe it down to the holocomm rig in my quarters.” She glanced at Tuvok. “I'll be back in a moment.
In the meantime, try to keep the political debate to a minimum, Commander.” The woman strode out of the compartment and down the corridor to the crew cabins.

“This Throk . . .” began Tom. “Nog, you said he was on DS9 when Bacco was killed. So are we saying that it was
his
finger on the trigger?”

“That would seem likely,” said Tuvok. “But more evidence is required for complete certainty.”

“Just so we're clear about this, then . . .” Tom shook his head as he thought it through and then pointed toward the aft. “At the end of that corridor, we currently have the most-wanted being in the Federation as our prisoner.”

“How much do you think—”

“He is worth?” The Bynars asked the question to the group, but no one replied.

“What's going to happen when Starfleet rolls out a line of Cardassian faces in front of the Federation Council and the galaxy at large?” Sahde ran a hand over the length of her bone crest. “I think it will be quite ugly, don't you? That fine new treaty with the Union will turn to ashes overnight.”

“All the more reason to have killed the lot of them down in that junkyard.” Ashur flinched as he moved, pulling on his wound. “Kincade should have listened when I told her to blast it from orbit with a torpedo barrage.”

From out of nowhere, Nog heard a shift in the
Snipe
's engine note and exchanged a look with Tuvok. “Commander . . . I think the ship is altering course.” He was certain of it; the freighter's warp drives were accelerating.

Kincade strode back into the compartment. A
flicker of concern on her features vanished as she met their gazes. “All right, all of you, listen up. Now that we've completed the first part of the mission, we're moving to the second phase.”

“Second phase?” echoed Ashur. “I don't recall anything about that in your recruitment speech,
Colonel
!”

“As
I
recall, you were more than happy to accept my offer to get you away from the Chalnoth bounty hunters on your tail.” She shut him down with a hard stare. “So don't push your luck, Ashur.” Kincade drew herself up and scanned the room, taking them in. “Next stage after isolating the targets is to secure them for interrogation. We need to know every aspect of the attack they planned, who they were working for, how they did it, everything. The chief of staff has amended our previous orders. We're not returning to Earth just yet. I've ordered Lieutenant Ixxen to put us on a new heading.”

“For what reason?” Tuvok watched her carefully. “What is our destination?”

“Velk's security staff feel the situation on Earth is too sensitive right now. So we're diverting to a secondary deployment site. Nydak II, a planet in the Archanis Sector.”

Nog's eyes widened. “The Nydak system is over the border. In Klingon space.”

“That won't be an issue,” said Kincade. “
Snipe
and Active Four are to remain on operational standby for the time being.”

“For how long?” demanded Ashur.

“Until we get what we need,” replied the colonel.

H
e felt uncomfortable sitting in the chair at the head of the briefing-room table, and Riker let that energy propel him to his feet. “I need options,” he told the others, crossing to the windows. On the other side of the transparent aluminum, the iron-colored arms of McKinley Station reached down over the
Titan
's hull, holding it in place over the turning globe of Earth beneath.