Open Secrets

So much for shore leave.

Leaning forward in her chair at the center of the Endeavour’s bridge, Atish Khatami forced the inappropriate thought from her mind and returned her attention to the situation at hand. All around her, the members of alpha shift’s bridge crew were focused on their stations, and the tension they exuded hung in the air like a stifling blanket.

“We’ve cleared the docking port, Captain” called out Lieutenant Neelakanta without looking up from his helm console. “We’re free to navigate.”

Khatami nodded, pleased at the report. Unable to resist a final jab before getting down to business, she said, “Well, it’s not as though we even had a chance to tie up or anything.”

Her observation was not far from the truth. The Endeavourhad just returned to Vanguard the previous day, only to receive orders from Commander Cooper not to utilize one of the docking bays in the station’s massive primary hull section. Instead, the starship was directed to one of the external ports ringing the docking wheel at the center of the secondary hull. Khatami had at first been confused by the instructions, but Cooper’s reasoning had been straightforward and—as evidenced by events currently unfolding—remarkably prescient.

“Bring us about,” she ordered. “Lay in that intercept course, and engage at full impulse. Shields up, and place weapons on ready status.”

Neelakanta replied, “Time to intercept is less than two minutes, Captain.”

Within moments of Cooper’s order to take any and all necessary action to protect the apparently rogue Tholian vessel, the Endeavourwas away from the station and ready for battle. This, too, was an unexpected dividend from the starbase commander’s orders, given his concern about the increase in activity throughout the Taurus Reach in recent weeks. According to the daily security briefings Khatami had received from Cooper’s staff, long-range scans had even revealed Klingon vessels at extreme range—presumably to conduct their own sensor sweeps of the station and other ships traversing the region. To this end, the Endeavourhad standing orders to dock at one of the external ports and, while moored, to maintain a crew complement sufficient to undertake combat operations in the event that an emergency arose in proximity to the station.

I like the way you think, Cooper,Khatami mused. Just remind me never to play poker with you.

“Mr. Klisiewicz,” she said, glancing toward the science station, “what’s the condition of the ship they’re chasing?”

At his console, Klisiewicz leaned over so that he could peer into the hooded viewer. “If it had deflector shields, they’re down. Sensors are picking up damage all along the hull, but so far, it’s still intact.”

Khatami asked, “What about life signs? Just the one?”

“Yes,” the science officer replied. “It’s a smaller ship, probably some kind of scout vessel. The other two ships are of the cruiser design we’re more familiar with.”

More familiar with.

The phrase rolled around in Khatami’s mind. So far, Starfleet’s dealings with Tholian vessels had been limited. Individually, Tholian ships presented only limited tactical challenges to most Federation starships. It was when they worked in concert, operating in groups of three or more, that they began to present a more imposing threat, even to larger and more powerful adversaries such as Constitution-class starships.

From behind her at the communications station, Lieutenant Hector Estrada said, “Captain, I’m picking up a new signal. It’s coming from one of the other Tholian ships.”

Khatami frowned. “This ought to be good. Let’s hear it.”

A harsh, clipped voice burst from the bridge speakers. “Federation outpost, this is theBattle Cruiser Vin’q Tholis, representing the Tholian Assembly. The vessel we are pursuing is stolen property, and its pilot is a known fugitive. Attempting to assist this criminal or in any way obstruct us from retrieving this vessel and its pilot will be considered an act of aggression against our government.”

The voice was a pitch or two deeper to Khatami’s ear than that of the first Tholian to contact the station, Nezrene, but the similarities in pronunciation and inflection were acute. Was it her imagination, or did she detect a slight hint of fear behind the aggressive demands?

Over the same communications cha

“Any response to that from the Tholians?” asked Khatami.

From behind her, Estrada replied, “No, Captain.”

“How delightfully unexpected,” retorted Lieutenant Commander Bersh glov Mog, the Endeavour’s chief engineer, from where he sat at his station.

Despite the tension she could feel mounting around the bridge as she looked over her shoulder at the burly Tellarite, Khatami could not help the wry grin she felt warming her features. “Don’t tell me youthink they’rebeing rude, Mog?”

The engineer shook his head. “Rude? That would require them actually answering our hails. No, I think they’re just being insufferable asses.”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” Khatami said as she returned her attention to the main viewscreen. “Okay, look sharp, people. Things are going to get very interesting in the next couple of minutes. Klisiewicz, what are they doing?”

The science officer turned to face her. “Still giving chase, Captain. They’ll cross the station’s outer defensive perimeter in less than a minute.”

“That’s why we’re here, Lieutenant,” Khatami said. Cooper’s orders had been quite clear on this point: protect the fleeing Tholian vessel at all costs. The station’s defenses would likely be far more than a match for the other ships, but it would be the Endeavour’s responsibility to ensure that they never got that close. Glancing over her shoulder at Estrada, she said, “Lieutenant, hail the Tholian ships, and let them know that the path to Vanguard goes through us.”

All around her, Khatami sensed her blunt, no-nonsense message having the desired effect as a new burst of determination seemed to course through everyone on the bridge. From the overhead speakers, she heard the litany of status reports coming from stations throughout the ship, notifying the bridge that they stood ready to face whatever tasks or challenges the next minutes might bring.

The responses of her crew as they readied themselves filled Khatami herself with a familiar confidence, the sort that could be cultivated only from leading into the unknown those who had placed in her their faith that she would do right by them. Since taking command of the Endeavourafter the tragic death of its former captain, Zhao Sheng, Khatami had struggled to see herself as deserving of that sacred trust. In those few short months, circumstances already had given her ample opportunity to demonstrate her worthiness. Despite their success on those occasions, Khatami knew that as a leader, her ongoing responsibility was to continue reinforcing the bond to this crew, which once had been Zhao’s but now was charged to her.

“Captain,” said Estrada, “I’ve sent the message on a repeating loop, but we’re not getting any responses to it.”

Khatami had only a moment to cast a knowing look at Mog before Klisiewicz suddenly exclaimed, “We’re being targeted!”