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“I’ll take the coffee,” Fisher said agreeably as he strolled toward the desk, where the screen displayed Reyes’s after-action report on the incident at Xarant. The doctor ignored it, reaching instead for the slate that Reyes had placed facedown on the desk when Fisher walked in. He turned it over and saw Ga
“Archery,” Fisher noted. “Who would have thought?”
“Hey, do you mind?” Reyes said irritably, grabbing the slate and handing Fisher a steaming cup. “What if this had been a top secret file?”
Fisher waved dismissively and went to sit in the chair opposite Reyes’s desk. “So what? You hate keeping secrets.”
Reyes sighed and returned to his own chair. “So what do you want, really? If you came here to talk to me about Ga
“Actually, I came here to talk about you.”
“What about me?”
Fisher smiled. “Are you going to keep Hallie as your XO?”
Reyes scoffed and leaned back. “That’s none of your damn business, Doctor,” he said without heat.
“Well, now, that’s where you’re wrong, Captain. But we’ll let that one go. Here’s a better question: do you think she’s right?”
Reyes didn’t answer, and after a moment, he picked up the slate again and handed it to Fisher. “That special training she received about the Klingons . . . Look who she studied under.”
“Doctor Emanuel Tagore,” Fisher read. “The former ambassador?”
“The same. He’s been on the lecture circuit since his retirement. Felt he owed it to the Federation to share what he’d learned from living on the Klingon homeworld for four years. Somebody at Command finally realized Starfleet had something to gain from his knowledge and experience. The thinking was that star-ship captains would benefit from having officers with specialized training in the Klingons’ language, culture, history.”
“Let me guess: somewhere in this file is a glowing recommendation from the ambassador.”
“Glowing? It’s radioactive. She was one of his star pupils.”
Fisher shrugged and handed back the slate. “So she’s got a black belt in Klingon and she’s not afraid to use it. That doesn’t really tell you anything you didn’t already know.”
“No . . . but it does make me wonder if I really am making this personal.” Reyes stared into his coffee. “This thing with Gorkon . . . I’m letting it affect me exactly the way she described, aren’t I? And if Hallie is right about that . . . What if the reason Dauntlessgot the tar beaten out of it last year—the real reason Rajiv died—is because I’m not able to understand what really drives the Klingons?”
Fisher set down his cup. “Diego, listen to me. You have to stop blaming yourself for Rajiv, and everyone else who dies on your watch. We all knew the score when we signed on. Tomorrow it could be someone else. Maybe me. And if it happens, I hope you’ll feel the loss. But the last thing I’d want is for you to be crushed under the weight of it, or for it to compromise your ability to function as captain of this ship. It’s the last thing Rajiv would want, too.”
Reyes remained silent, his eyes filled with doubt.
The bosun’s whistle sounded from his desk’s intercom. “Bridge to Captain Reyes.”
Reyes switched it on, and Ga
“Sir, we have a situation,”she told him. “All hell is breaking loose aboard theChech’Iw.”
“Kendrick managed to tap into their intraship communications,” Ga
“Captain, if I might make a suggestion?” Sadler said. “This could be an opportunity.”
Fisher didn’t like the way that sounded. “An opportunity to do what?”
The security chief continued speaking directly to Reyes. “We can offer them the same sort of deal they gave the colonists— help in exchange for their agreeing to relinquish their claim on Azha-R7a.”
“Or what?” Fisher challenged. “We’re going to let them die?”
“That’s exactly the choice they gave the Arkenites,” Sadler said.
“Since when do we take our cues from the Klingons?” Fisher asked.
Reyes stared at the viewscreen. The Chech’Iwhung above them, astern and to port, offering no outward sign that anything was wrong. “I agree with Mister Sadler—this isan opportunity.”
Fisher couldn’t believe it. Well, if that’s the way it’s go
“As you were, Doctor.”
Dammit. Fisher stopped and slowly turned back around, folding his arms. “Aye, sir.”
“Hail the Chech’Iw,” Reyes told Kendrick as he strode toward the center seat.
“Hailing frequencies open, sir.”
“ I.K.S. Chech’Iw,this is the U.S.S. Dauntless. Do you require assistance?” When no answer came, he looked over his shoulder. “Are they receiving us?”
Kendrick nodded.
“ I.K.S. Chech’Iw,we have crisis response perso
“Reply coming in, Captain,” Kendrick said.
The screen warbled and dissolved to show Mazhtog, sweat beading on his forehead, his breathing labored. “What are . . . what are your . . . terms?”he rasped.
“No terms,” said Reyes, and Sadler’s mouth dropped open. “We’re offering our assistance without condition. Do you accept?”
“We . . . accept.”
“Fine. My chief medical officer will be beaming over shortly.” Reyes looked as if he were about to sign off, but then added, “After the first few minutes, you’ll probably want to shoot him. Please don’t. Reyes out.”
The captain spun his chair around and faced his officers.
Fisher smiled. “You surprise me sometimes, Diego.”
“Don’t be too impressed,” Reyes cautioned him. “I have ulterior motives. This is our best chance of obtaining first-hand intel about what the Klingons are really up to.” He looked at Sadler. “There’s more than one kind of opportunity, Lieutenant.”
Sadler nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“Ga
As the Klingon ship solidified around him, Fisher’s thought from the previous day came back to him: That boy is go
Suited up in biohazard gear, he and Ga
One of the guards spat back, and then he and another Klingon took Fisher and Ga
The Klingons who could still walk stumbled through corridors strewn with the twitching bodies of those more gravely stricken. Some of the fallen bled from their noses, or ears, or eyes.
Fisher opened his tricorder, and the readings he took confirmed his fears.
The Chech’Iwwas dying.
7
2268
“Dammit, Desai, what the hell were you thinking? I sent you to Kadru to fix things, not make them worse!”
Cringing as Nogura responded to her mission update, Desai sat back in the navigator’s seat of the Guo Shoujing,holding her head with one hand. She’d never been more grateful for the lack of viewscreens on Class-F shuttlecraft. “I haven’t given up, sir.”
“Is that meant to reassure me?”the admiral asked as the shuttlecraft’s tripartite hatch opened, letting in a cloud of cool, humid air. Desai looked up to see Fisher emerging from Kadru’s foggy night, carrying a bulky parcel under one arm. “You’ve been there less than twelve hours, and in that time, you’ve managed not only to undo whatever goodwill Commander Miller achieved with the colonists, you’ve actually set back the Federation’s broken relationship with these people even further. Is that a fair summation?”