What Judgments Come

Then, the generator fired.

From his vantage point lying flat on his back, Festrene had an unobstructed view as a pulse of orange energy erupted from the top of the mechanism, accompanied by a shrill whine as it described an arc across the clear blue Traelan sky. As it traveled, the pulse began to expand, flattening and stretching with each passing moment. In the distance, Festrene could see the pulses fired from other generators in the network following similar courses, each doing their part to weave their portion of the web as they converged on a point Festrene had calculated as being above the center of the Klingon colony.

It is working!The thought pushed past the torment gripping Festrene as the pain from his wound mounted. He could not be sure, but he thought the Klingon’s attack may well have damaged at least one vital organ in his torso. It was almost certain that he required medical attention, but there was none to be found in this place.

The field’s effect on the Klingon was immediate, who staggered to a stop in midstride and dropped her weapon as she reached with both hands to grip the sides of her head. There was no mistaking the distress she obviously was experiencing as she fell to her knees. Blood was ru

What was happening?

The device had been designed to be used as a neurological attack, so the field’s effects on humanoids should not be this severe, and it certainly should not be killing anyone, as it appeared now to be doing.

What have I done?

Unable to move and feeling his strength ebbing, Festrene reached with one feeble appendage toward the console, willing it to deactivate itself. The mechanism was out of reach, and though it would deactivate itself after a prescribed interval, he knew by then it would be too late. Every Klingon at the colony would be dead, quite possibly along with every other specimen of animal life in the targeted area.

He had killed them.

With supreme effort as he fought through the pain racking his body, Festrene maneuvered himself so that he could crawl along the ground. Accompanied by the incessant hum of the web generator, he pulled himself through the dirt and dust until he felt the console’s warm smooth surface. Once activated, the field could not be aborted until it completed its programmed duration, but there remained a single option for disabling it. Festrene’s phalanges moved across the rows of controls and indicators until he found the familiar, octagonal switch that sat by itself in the center of the panel. It was intended for use only in the most dire of circumstances, which to Festrene seemed appropriate just now.

Despite his injuries and even as he felt consciousness begi

21

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His eyes wide with surprise as he regarded the welcoming, smiling face of Ezekiel Fisher, Reyes had to raise his voice to be heard over the background noise of the restaurant situated on the fringe of the Omari-Ekon’s gaming deck. All around him, patrons, servers, and other employees bustled past on their way into and out of the restaurant. Fisher himself seemed immune to the minor chaos unfolding around them, just as he appeared oblivious to the pair of Orions who had accompanied him this far into the casino. The burly security guards were going out of their way not to look obvious as they stood several meters away, pointedly looking anywhere except to where Fisher and Reyes stood.

Amateurs.

Hooking a thumb over one shoulder at the two guards, Fisher replied, “It’s like I told Thick and Thicker over there: I’m here for the buffet.”

Reyes resisted questioning the statement, knowing that for every guard he could see failing in his attempts to keep them under covert surveillance, there was another pair of eyes or ears keeping tabs on him from another, better vantage point. Instead, he said, “There’s nothing in there that’s good for you.”

“Exactly,” Fisher replied, smiling again. “I get tired of Starfleet dietary menus. Sometimes I just want to feel my arteries harden while I eat.”

“This place’ll do it,” Reyes said, following Fisher as the other man led the way into the restaurant. “I’m surprised Nogura didn’t declare this place off-limits to station perso

Looking around before answering, Fisher regarded Reyes with a neutral expression. “Why would he do that? It’s not as though anything odd or bad has happened over here. At least, there’s nothing on any of the news feeds or daily briefing reports.”

It was more than just a casual statement, Reyes knew, thanks to the information T’Pry

Meanwhile,Reyes mused as he tried to keep up with Fisher, who was working his way farther into the restaurant like a man possessed, might as well eat. He was only somewhat surprised to see Tim Pe

“Mister Reyes,” Pe

Returning the greeting, Reyes noted that neither Pe

What are you up to, Zeke?

The pair navigated a path around tables, patrons, and servers bearing plates and bowls of various substances Reyes had learned over time was food of one sort or another. Reaching the start of the buffet line, he let his eyes wander over the dual aisles with their stations containing all ma

“What’s with you and Pe

The doctor turned and regarded him with a flat expression. “Pe