Open Secrets

You might want to rethink your priorities, Lieutenant.

Turning to look over her shoulder, she called out, “He is here, my captain.” Xiong followed her gaze until he saw a large, swarthy Klingon male emerge from between stacks of packing crates. Compared with the female, this specimen was gigantic. The black hair that fell from his shoulders was longer than the female’s, flowing behind him like a mane. Xiong’s eyes noted the disruptor pistol and the very large knife suspended from a belt at the Klingon’s waist.

“I am Komoraq,” the Klingon said, studying Xiong with a critical and—Xiong was sure—disapproving eye. “And you are the Earther who has studied these relics?”

The blunt statement sent a wave of unease through Xiong. He had been suspecting something like this. His capture and subsequent treatment had to be related to his knowledge of the Shedai artifacts, such as those he had been studying on Erilon.

They’ve found something here, wherever here is, but they don’t know what to do with it.

Xiong cleared his throat and said, “Yes, I’ve studied them. We’ve made some small progress understanding them and the technology.” It was not technically a lie, but even he did not feel convinced by his own words.

Neither, apparently, did Komoraq, who offered a dismissive grunt.

“Your modesty aside, the simple fact is that you seem to be the foremost authority on these people and the power they once wielded. We wish to understand that power, and I’ve brought you here to assist us.”

Xiong tried to affect an expression of uncertainty. “We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface, but based on what we’ve found and what we’ve seen, this civilization is orders of magnitude more advanced than yours or mine. You know what happened to the Jinoteur system, right?”

The Klingon nodded. “Indeed, as well as Palgrenax, Gamma Tauri IV, and even the planet from which you were taken. We’ve made some discoveries of our own, here and on other planets, but I’ll admit we lag behind the Federation.” His eyes bored into Xiong. “That is why you are here, Earther. We have similar Shedai technology on this rock, though we are unable to do anything with it. Even the artifacts discovered on Palgrenax and Lerais III offered more insight.” He gestured toward the Klingon female. “My wife believes that this is because of what happened with the Jinoteur system. Is she correct?” As he asked the question, Komoraq’s left hand rested on the handle of the far-too-large knife on his hip.

Feeling his anxiety rising, Xiong replied, “We don’t know.”

The Klingon wasted no time, waving to one of the guards flanking Xiong. “Kill him.”

“Wait!” Xiong blurted, holding up his hands. “I said I didn’t know, but it is a possibility we’ve been exploring.” That was somewhat truthful, but he hoped it was enough of a feint to forestall his execution, if only for a few moments. “Since the system’s disappearance, all of the alien technology we’ve encountered has gone dormant. We suspect a co

“It is because humanoids are not biologically compatible with the technology,” the Klingon female said, moving to stand beside her husband. “Correct?”

Xiong shrugged. “Maybe.” He kept his expression neutral, careful to reveal no clue to the Klingon woman that she was indeed on the right track. “We’ve only just begun to test that concept, though.” Another small obfuscation.

“Then it’s fortunate that I brought you here, rather than killing you outright on Erilon,” Komoraq said. He indicated his wife with a nod of his head. “Lorka?”

To Xiong’s guards, she said, “Bring him,” before turning on her heel and marching off, cutting a path through the stacks of crates and equipment. Xiong felt a massive hand on his shoulder, directing him to follow Lorka, and he and his escorts set off after her. As they made their way around a large container inscribed with long strings of text written in Klingonese, Xiong knew what he would see even before it came into view. Still, he could not help a gasp of surprise as he beheld what the Klingons had found.

It was a series of control consoles, nearly identical to those found on Erilon, Ravanar IV, and other worlds where Starfleet research teams had discovered remnants of Shedai civilization. Like those with which he had been working before his capture on Erilon, these consoles seemed active, receiving power from a portable generator. Xiong could only assume that, also like those on Erilon and—presumably—every other world containing such technology, these systems were all but useless without the guiding force once provided by the now-departed Jinoteur system.

A Tholian stood before them. It was dressed in an environment suit much like the one worn by Nezrene, though this one was a metallic red in color. At his approach, the Tholian turned and appeared to regard him through the narrow slits in the suit’s helmet covering. Xiong heard a chorus of lyrical twitters, indecipherable gibberish until the translator incorporated into the Tholian’s suit offered up its rendition.

“Why have you brought this outsider here?”

Ignoring the Tholian, Lorka said to Xiong, “This creature has proven to be of limited use to this point. Its physiology has allowed us to gain some access to this equipment, but it lacks any knowledge of its ancestors or their technology. That is why you’re here. You will work with it.” Turning, she reached for a small equipment box sitting on the rocky floor next to the console. From it she extracted what Xiong recognized as the tricorder confiscated from him at the time of his capture. “Your research and discoveries on Erilon should prove most helpful in that regard, yes?”

So, Xiong decided, this Klingon woman was no fool. Not a simple soldier, he suspected, but likely one of their scientists. As such, she would not be easily duped, and he would have to take great care in what he said or—more important—did not say.

“With time,” he said, hoping not to appear too eager to please. “There’s still so much we don’t know.”

“Then I suggest you get started,” Lorka said, tossing him the tricorder. “But rest assured, Earther, patience is not one of my husband’s numerous virtues. The moment he senses that you are attempting to deceive or misdirect us, or should you try to escape, you will die.”

42

Despite the sensation that the collar of his dress uniform was choking the life out of him, Reyes did not reach for it, did not move to run a finger between it and his neck. Instead, he remained fixed at his position of attention, staring straight ahead as the members of the court-martial board resumed their places on the bench. Out of the corner of his right eye, Reyes saw Desai and Sereb, both standing as well. Below the bench, Lieutenant T’Nir stood facing them, her expression implacable as usual.

The happy fun group.

Admiral Moratino and the trial board had spent nearly three days deliberating behind closed doors, and Reyes—with Desai’s help—had tried to take some comfort from the protracted waiting. According to her, it was a good sign, indicating that the board did not view the charges against Reyes and the actions he had taken as a simple matter of good or bad, right or wrong. As far as he knew, no Starfleet flag officer had ever stood trial on charges on this magnitude, not with ramifications such as those that might still come about as a result of the events that had occurred and that continued to unfold in the Taurus Reach. In Desai’s estimation, the members likely were proceeding with utmost care, perhaps aware of the historic nature of the ruling they would hand down and the precedent such a decision might set for the future.