Open Secrets

“What?” Komoraq asked.

Shaking her head, Lorka replied, “I picked up no residual readings whatsoever. For whatever reason, the console decided the power I was sending to it wasn’t compatible with its systems and shut everything down.” She released another enraged growl. “Just as on the other planets where this technology has been discovered, without this key component being active, we won’t be able to access any of the structure’s lower levels.”

She did not have to complete her thought. Komoraq knew precisely what she had not put into words. The lower levels housed the truly remarkable examples of the ancient race’s wondrous technology. If this planet possessed a global defense system comparable to ones seen on other worlds in the Gonmog Sector, then it harbored a weapon capable of ensuring the Klingon Empire’s supremacy throughout the galaxy.

Assuming that those who created the weapon don’t decide to use it on us and the planet itself,he mused. There already had been examples of such power being unleashed even in the brief time that had passed since both Federation and Klingon ships had ventured into this region of space. Since learning of this technology and the potential it offered, Komoraq had spent many evenings imagining what he might accomplish with such weaponry under his direct control. There would be no limit to what he might achieve, but now he was sensing the enormous opportunity begi

“We need to find some way inside,” Komoraq said through gritted teeth as he bit back his mounting frustration. “If we’re unable to wrest control of this technology from the belly of this cursed planet, I’ll have destroyed a Federation freighter and forcibly evicted one of their colonies for nothing except my own amusement.”

He had been informed by his superiors that the High Council was not pleased with the methods he had employed to secure Lerais II in the aim of the empire. Though he had made the uncharacteristic gesture of sparing the Earther colonists and allowed them to evacuate the planet without incident, a

For the first time since he had entered the chamber, Komoraq felt his wife’s hand on his arm. “We will find a way, my husband,” Lorka said, “but you know that I ca

Pausing, she added, “The artifacts we found on Mirdonyae V are in better condition. The planet is also more isolated than this one. We should continue our research there.”

Komoraq emitted a dissatisfied grunt. “Unfortunately, my wife, even your best efforts may not be good enough.” No, he decided, they needed something more, something that had been unavailable to them. Offering his beloved wife a leering grin, he felt a small rush of anticipation as he considered how best to proceed. “What we need just now is a fresh perspective.”

17

INTERLUDE

Pain and exhaustion gripped the Shedai Wanderer, threatening to crush the withering vestiges of life to which she clung as she all but fell to the dead world that was her destination.

Without the Conduit to guide and support her, it had taken nearly all of the energy she had been able to gather during her exile on the distant moon even to reach this far. By the standards of travel to which she long ago had become accustomed, journeying to this planet should have been simple. She knew it to be on par with the sort of exercise a mentor might give to a child just learning to control the great powers commanded by the Shedai. Instead, the voyage had drained most of her strength, nearly leaving her stranded without corporeal existence and dispersed to the void between stars.

She took in her surroundings, searching her memories for information on the world she would now call home, at least until she regained enough strength to make another attempt at travel. Like the moon she had left behind, this planet also was lifeless, though for much different reasons. All around her, the Wanderer saw remnants of the civilization that once had thrived here. The ruins of a great city stretched to the horizon in all directions, the artificial structures and other technological constructs lying abandoned and crumbling for aeons, if her memory served her. Far above, the sky was black and brilliant, though it and the stars that filled her vision carried a crimson tinge, owing to the large red sun dominating the spectacular scene. The planet’s atmosphere had been burned away, a casualty of the nearby star having gone nova, an event that likely had snuffed out this world’s population in an instant.

It took a moment, but in short order, the stories came forth from her memory. A great empire—Tkon, the Wanderer now recalled—had once owned this planet. Now all but extinct, its influence had covered a vast segment of space, nearly rivaling that of the Shedai. The Tkon, according to the legends, were but one of the very few peoples to resist any effort at conquest, including submitting to the will of the Shedai. Tales and folklore regarded them as a more than worthy adversary. Had they survived the disaster that had befallen their homeworld, they might well have unseated the Shedai as the dominant power in this area of the galaxy. While legends suggested that some paltry shadows of the once-mighty Tkon people might still remain scattered through space, their empire would never rise again.

Unlike the Tkon, the Wanderer knew, the Shedai would return. When that might happen remained uncertain, of course, as did the nature of their resurgence, but that they would emerge once again to stake claim to their place as rightful rulers was not in doubt.

Whether the Shedai would be worthy of that authority was also a question demanding resolution. After all, the galaxy had changed, evolved, while the Shedai had lain dormant. Would the civilizations that had emerged and advanced during that time willingly subjugate themselves to such rule? Based on what she had seen just since her own awakening, the Wanderer found this unlikely. Despite her unwavering loyalty to the Enumerated Ones, she also had learned to doubt the inherent assumption that all others existed simply to serve the Shedai. Such thinking was dangerous, she knew, and would not endear her to the Serrataalwhen they finally returned. That did nothing to keep the thoughts from taking hold in her mind, commanding her focus and requiring answers.

Dishonorable notions and other ephemera were pushed aside without warning as the Wanderer realized that something else was drawing her attention. Another presence, distant and faint but still detectable, called out across the Void.

The Apostate. As I roam free, so, too, does my enemy.