Reap the Whirlwind

“Yer welcome, Captain,” Qui

Nassir’s tone became somber. “Since we’re already in your debt, and seeing as you men are civilians, I feel like I have no right to ask another favor of you…but my first officer is several kilometers downriver, stranded and wounded.”

Qui

“It may not be that simple,” Nassir said.” We’re not alone down here, gents. Every second you stay, your lives are in danger. Rescuing my officer might be more than just a taxi run.”

With a glance in Pe

“If it’s all the same to you, mate,” Pe

A string of data appeared on one of the small, cracked monitors mounted in the hump between the pilot’s and copilot’s seats. “We’ve sent you Commander Terrell’s communicator ID frequency,” Nassir said. “Lock that into your ship’s sensors, and it’ll lead you right to him.” They heard the captain clear his throat. “I can’t thank you men enough for this. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

“Back atcha, Captain,” Qui

As Pe

“Ain’t the first good deed I ever did,” Qui

Unable to keep a sly grin from his face, Pe

“Tell me something,” Qui

He wondered if Qui

“Yeah? That worked out well for you, then.” Adjusting his cigar between his teeth, he said, “I’ll let you in on a secret, newsboy: when I was a kid, I did not dream of growing up to be a drunk and a loser. We reach?”

Under all that bluster, Pe

Without a grin or a hint of sarcasm, Qui

For a moment, Pe

Before he could let his mind slip into a debate on that topic, he noticed the sky growing dark and flashing with lightning. The massive storm front that he had seen during their approach to the Sagittarius was directly ahead of them—and growing closer with each passing second.

Captain Kutal stood in the middle of the Zin’za’s bridge and felt his good mood deflate into disgust as he read the urgent message that had just been received from Imperial Intelligence. “They can’t be serious,” Kutal grumbled.

He handed the message to BelHoQ. The first officer read it quickly, then sagged with irritated disappointment. “Helm,” he barked. “Take us out of warp.” Qlar, hunched over the forward console, hastened to obey. Moments later the stars on the main viewer went from streaked to static.

“Answering all stop, sir,” Qlar reported.

The captain walked back to his chair and slumped into it. BelHoQ followed and stood facing him from the left. The first officer kept his voice low. “An ambush? Sounds like someone at I.I.’s been hitting the warnog again.”

Kutal feigned surprise. “You don’t think it’s possible?”

“Possible? Maybe. Likely? No. Starfleet couldn’t deploy enough ships here for an ambush without our knowledge.”

“I know that,” Kutal replied, his voice an anger-sharpened rasp. “Not unless they’ve started using devices like the one we encountered on that ship outside the Palgrenax system.”

His speculation seemed to concern BelHoQ. Weeks earlier they had hunted down a ship of unknown origin that had possessed a technology for rendering itself all but invisible to sensors and visual scans. If the Federation proved to be the inventor of such a profound tactical advantage, it could easily spell disaster for the Empire.

BelHoQ calmed himself and spoke in a cool, measured tone. “Standard procedure calls for a full scan of the system before we proceed.”

“Afraid we might be outnumbered, BelHoQ?”

Unruffled by the jibe, BelHoQ answered, “No, Captain. I just want to know where all the targets are—so I can decide which one to destroy first.”

Kutal chortled with genuine amusement and appreciation. “Very well. Run your scan. We’ll hold station here until we’re ready to move into orbit.”

As BelHoQ stepped away to coordinate the intensive sensor sweep of the star system, Kutal stared at the bold white orb of Jinoteur in the center of the main viewer. We can afford to take our time, he reassured himself. We know exactly where the Starfleet ship is—and it’s not going anywhere.

22

Less than fifteen seconds after the Starship Endeavour dropped out of warp on course to make orbit above Gamma Tauri IV, the comm system beeped with two priority signals, and every officer on the bridge tried to report at once.

The flurry of voices was little more than noise to Captain Atish Khatami, who looked to her new first officer, Lieutenant Commander Katherine Stano, to impose some kind of order on the chaos engulfing the bridge.

Stano reacted to the captain’s gentle, pleading stare with an abashed lowering of her eyes. Then she stuck her thumb and middle finger inside her mouth and pierced the din with a sharp, teeth-rattling whistle. The bridge fell silent. Khatami smirked. I knew she could sing. Didn’t know she could do that.

“One at a time,” Stano said, her moment of ire revealing traces of her long-suppressed Te

Lieutenant Hector Estrada swiveled his chair to speak to Stano and Khatami. “Priority signals from Vanguard and the Lovell,” he said. “Vanguard’s hailing both of us.”

“Both onscreen,” Khatami said.

Estrada turned back to his console and flipped switches. The image of Gamma Tauri IV on the main viewer blinked and became a split-screen image showing Captain Okagawa of the U.S.S. Lovell on the left and Commodore Reyes on the right. “Captain,” Khatami said to Okagawa, then nodded to Reyes and added, “Commodore.”

“Captains,” Reyes replied. “I just received Dr. Fisher’s forensic report on the colonists who were killed earlier today. The good news is that they weren’t killed by the Klingons. The bad news…is that they weren’t killed by the Klingons.”

Khatami understood immediately: the Shedai were involved. The same nearly unstoppable beings that had killed the former commanding officer of the Endeavour and several other Starfleet perso

“We have news of our own,” Captain Okagawa said. “Our people are off the planet, but the colonists won’t budge.”

Khatami asked, “Do they know there’s another Klingon heavy cruiser on the way? It’ll be here in less than half an hour.”