Star Trek: TNG: Cold Equations II: Silent Weapons (17 page)

As they started walking back to the embassy’s gate, La Forge played devil’s advocate. “On the other hand, you have to give them credit for their commitment to personal privacy.”

Her gaze was a poisoned arrow of scorn. “Yeah. . . . I’ll bet that’s a real comfort to Commander Tohm.”

•   •   •

It would be so much easier to explain if only I could tell him why
.

Separated from his subordinate by light-years of distance, the buffer of the subspace channel, and the anonymity of their nearly identical uniforms, Thot Tran struggled to convey the urgency of his directive without exposing its true strategic rationale. “You already have your assets in place, Konar. Why can’t you complete Phase Two?”

“First, because this updated mission profile has no exit strategy.”

“Why should that be of concern?”

Konar leaned forward, snout down, clearly treating the conversation as a confrontation.
“Sir, this operation represents a massive investment by the SRD, as do each of our active assets. We’ve already lost one. Can we really afford to squander another so carelessly?”

It was a problem of definitions, Tran realized. That, at least, could be easily remedied. “I do not consider the sacrifice of an asset, no matter how costly it might be, to be a waste when it happens in pursuit of victory. Even our most optimistic scenarios carry a high risk of losing any asset committed to this type of operation.”

The discouraged scientist averted his eyeline, and his shoulders slumped.
“I’m not suggesting a major delay. At most, it would take an additional hour to devise an extraction strategy to recover our asset once its mission is accomplished.”

“Adding an extraction to the timeline increases the duration of the asset’s engagement, elevating the risk that it will be damaged or incapacitated, leading to its premature capture and analysis. Forcing our targets into action without a retreat scenario has a high probability of ending in the complete disintegration of the asset, which will preserve operational security.”

“You
want
the asset destroyed?”

Why did he sound so shocked? Was it so hard to imagine? “Not if it can be avoided without altering our timetable. But if the alternative is that the enemy acquires it intact for analysis before we’ve prepared it for them, then yes, I would prefer it be destroyed.”

“I find your conclusion extreme, but so be it. However, that brings us to my second concern. Taking action now presents serious tactical hazards.”

“I wasn’t aware that you were a master tactician as well as a scientist.”

Konar tensed at the implied slight but struggled to conceal his reaction.
“The scenario as written poses a threat to our allies, and it risks inflicting significant collateral damage—the one thing we’ve been expressly ordered to avoid, for fear of alienating our neutral hosts.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“So you say now. But if this operation goes wrong, where will the blame be laid?”

Tran wondered if the scientist was being deliberately obtuse. “Konar, you’re in the midst of executing one of the most important covert operations on foreign soil in the history of the Confederacy. I should think you would have hundreds of concerns more pressing than worrying about something as inconsequential as blame.”

“Spoken like someone immune from the consequences of his actions.”

“Hardly, I assure you.” He uploaded a new data packet and transferred it to Konar on the data subchannel. “Here’s something new to occupy your thoughts: We’ve been ordered by the domo to commence full operational status, effective immediately. You and your associate need to have all assets on line in the next twelve hours.”

Konar flinched.
“That’s insane! How are we supposed to go fully operational while coordinating tonight’s already rushed mission?”

“Calm down. The remaining assets don’t need to be deployed, just activated.”

The clarification only added to Konar’s befuddlement.
“What purpose will that serve?”

Researchers, unlike soldiers, could be so very exasperating. “It isn’t necessary for you to understand the rationale behind my every command. What matters is that you follow orders.”

“Without question? Even if I have reason to believe the orders you’ve given jeopardize the effectiveness, secrecy, and security of this operation?”

“Even then.”

After a moment of quiet seething, Konar asked,
“What if I were to decide that you and the domo have both gone mad, and I refused to follow these reckless orders?”

“Then you would be single-handedly responsible for sabotaging one of the most vital strategic operations in the history of the Confederacy, I would charge you with treason, and the domo would send a company of Spetzkar to storm your laboratory and kill you.” A mocking tilt of his head underscored his low-key affect of menace. “Any further questions?”

Konar straightened his back, aware that his attempt to take a stand had backfired in the worst possible way.
“No, sir. We’ll proceed with tonight’s operation as ordered, and we’ll have the remaining assets activated by morning.”

“Good.” He leaned forward, toward the comm’s vid sensor, for dramatic effect. “Have a little faith, Konar. I give you my word: Even if your entire operation seems to be in disarray, everything will unfold exactly as I intend. This is chaos by design, a choreographed mayhem years in the making. Don’t screw it up by trying to fix what needs to be broken.”

•   •   •

Like a shadow at sunset, Konar’s dark mood stretched ahead of him and preceded him inside the lab. Hain felt her supervisor’s aura of angry resignation before she turned to look at him. Something had shaken him. His footsteps were slower than normal, his bearing was robbed of confidence, and in spite of the sanitized quality of communication through Breen vocoders, as he spoke she sensed that his voice lacked its usual conviction.

“We’ve been ordered to move ahead and complete Phase Two,” he said. “Tonight.”

A sick dread turned inside her. “
Tonight?
Are they out of their minds? Don’t they realize how many non-combatants will be there? We could be talking collateral damage in the dozens. Maybe more—a lot more, if this thing goes wrong.”

He shook his head. “They don’t care. We’ve been ordered to proceed.”

The single-mindedness of the directive felt surreal to her. “Didn’t you explain that—”

“That we have no exit strategy? That friendlies could get caught in the crossfire? That it would take only a few hours to prep an extraction scenario? Yes. Thot Tran doesn’t care.”

It made no sense. “Did he say why we need to move tonight?”

“No, and I’m learning it’s unwise to ask for explanations.” He handed her a data rod. “He also sent new orders, to be carried out in parallel to our current assignment.”

She took the slender cylinder of data crystal from him and plugged it into an input on her console. “Like it’s not hard enough running a high-risk op on an accelerated schedule, now he wants us to—” She lost her train of thought as the new orders scrolled across her center screen. “What is this? Tell me they’re not serious.” She looked back at Konar, who avoided her gaze. “Konar! Have you seen these orders? Do you know what they want us to do?”

“We don’t have any choice.” He had the stooped comportment of a beaten man.

Angry heat warmed her face, and she felt her pulse quicken. “No, no,
no
. They can’t do this to us. They obviously have no idea what they’re asking for, or they wouldn’t be doing this.”

“I am assured by Thot Tran that he and the domo understand the situation perfectly, and that we are the ones who lack perspective.” She interpreted a crackling of static from Konar’s vocoder as a heavy sigh. “At any rate, we have our orders.”

Hain turned back to her screens of data and absorbed the scope of what was being set in motion. “I don’t understand. This plan ends at asset activation.”

“I know.” Konar sounded tired, implying he’d already had this conversation with Tran.

“But what’s the point? Why power them up without programming? Without guidance?”

Konar stared at the screens. “I don’t know. I asked, but they refused to explain. It seems we’re expected to comply based on nothing more than our trust in the domo’s wisdom.”

“But without programming, we can’t operate the sensor screens. They’ll be radiating all sorts of high-energy particles within minutes of start-up. How are we supposed to mask that?”

“They didn’t say.”

Quaking with frustration, she balled her hands into fists. “This is ridiculous! If we do this, we’ll breach our own security! Starfleet isn’t stupid. They’ll detect these emissions, and they’ll know what they mean.” Her rage intensified as Konar half turned away, ignoring her rant. “We’ve spent
years
on this project, Konar! No one else understands how much research, how much work went into all of this! We’re on the cusp of some major discoveries, and they’re asking us to throw it all away! For what? What’s so important that it’s worth this?”

He held up a hand to forestall further discussion. “We have our orders. They’re not open to debate. And Thot Tran assures me that actions which look like mistakes are anything but. So unless you want to end up in a labor camp somewhere, I suggest you obey.”

“This isn’t right.” She started keying in sequences to carry out Thot Tran’s second directive. “How am I supposed to do this and run the current op?”

“Let me worry about our team on Orion,” Konar said. “I can coordinate now that Sair’s in position.” He took a seat beside Hain and recomposed his panel’s interface into a configuration he found convenient and comfortable. “And, even though Thot Tran doesn’t care, I have an exit plan that can get Sair out of the crossfire once the main objective is completed.”

The situation remained less than ideal, but Hain knew she was in no position to contest the orders of a
thot,
especially not one so politically savvy and connected as Tran. What could be so important that it would be worth scuttling one of the SRD’s most cutting-edge projects? After all the years and resources that had been plowed into the study of cybernetics, artificial intelligence, and robotics, why risk exposing the entire program now, after the incorporation of foreign technologies had finally made its most recent discovery viable? She was certain she would never understand the whims of executive power or the moral calculus of the privileged.

There was nothing more for her to do but carry out her orders.

The first part would be simple. A broadcast command on the passive-receiver frequency would trigger the startup circuits on all the remaining assets. Hain keyed up the pulse, checked the channel assignment, then sent it. Moments later, her status screens flooded with pingbacks from worlds throughout the sector as the embedded assets were awakened from their dormant states, empty vessels hungry for a purpose she could not yet provide. At a glance, they all seemed to have activated as planned. Now would come the tedium; one by one, she would have to access their systems and confirm that each one was fully operational—except, of course, for the lack of a mind or any sort of functional programming. She could only assume those things would come later, as they had for the Orion assets.

“All the units are on line,” she told Konar. “Starting benchmark tests.”

He remained intent on the tasks in front of him. “Tell me if you find any anomalies.”

She stole a look at his screens and glimpsed the improvised exit strategy he was writing for Sair. “Do you really think that’ll work?”

“As long as Olar can hold up his end, we can bring them both out in one piece.”

She wasn’t sure she shared his faith in Olar. “And if he can’t?”

“Then Berro will have to make sure no one finds any trace of them in the bank’s wreckage.”

14

La Forge gazed up at a stern visage, a face that looked as if it had been chiseled from dark malachite and cast in a permanent glower of intimidation. Next to it was another much like it, only far less welcoming. “We don’t care if you’ve been sent by the Great Bird of the Galaxy itself,” said Tall-Green-and-Ugly. “You don’t have permission to enter the bank.”

He and Šmrhová held up their Starfleet photo ID cards—documents for which they had rarely had any use, on or off the ship—as if presenting the Orions with proof of their affiliation would change their answer. “We’re from the
Enterprise,
” La Forge said. “We’ve been tasked with investigating the attempted break-in, and—”

“We don’t care,” said Taller-Greener-and-Uglier. “You have no jurisdiction on the surface of our planet, and even less inside the walls of this bank.”

Their refusals spun up Šmrhová’s temper. “This is a matter of Federation security.”

“No, it’s a matter of bank security, and we’ll conduct our own investigation—without your help.” They pointed away from the main gate, into the sprawl of the capital. “Why don’t you two go back to your embassy, or your ship, or anyplace other than here?”