Star Trek: Typhon Pact 04 - Paths of Disharmony Read online

  “And what about you?” the engineer asked Taurik.

  The Vulcan said, “I have no additional comments or observations, sir.”

  Shaking his head, La Forge stepped back to the pallet where he had been working and retrieved his padd. “Let’s get back to work.”

  Only when he was sure neither of his junior officers was looking at him did he allow the grin to return.

  15

  The familiar tingling on his skin faded as the transporter beam released him, and Picard found himself standing in a well-tended atrium. Multicolored stone tiles formed a circular mosaic beneath his feet, around which was arrayed a variety of flora and fauna. The atrium in which he, Lieutenant Chen, and Ensign sh’Anbi had materialized was open on three sides, overlooking a lush, manicured lawn, and in the distance Picard could see a tall, imposing stone wall.

  “Nice,” Chen remarked.

  Picard nodded. “Indeed.” A path constructed from similar stones led a few meters from the atrium to a covered walkway running alongside the exterior wall of the mansion that now served as the seat of power in the city of Lor’Vela for the Parliament Andoria. The surrounding compound housed an array of stone walking paths winding around and among ponds, gardens, rock formations, and waterfalls. To Picard’s practiced eye, every last flower petal and blade of grass seemed the product of meticulous, even loving care. “As I recall, this building once housed elements of the regional government, but they graciously offered the complex to the parliament when it was decided this city would serve as the new capital for the central planetary government.”

  “There’s a lot of space here,” said sh’Anbi, the security officer assigned to accompany Picard. She indicated the expansive courtyard with a wave. “If this is where the conference is being held—even wtih most of the facility underground—security will definitely prove challenging.”

  “I would imagine so, Ensign,” Picard replied, “which is why Commander Worf and Lieutenant Choudhury have spent the past several hours since our arrival meeting with their Andorian counterparts.” The Enterprise had barely settled into orbit when his first officer and head of security transported down to the capital city, ostensibly to discuss final security preparations with the local Homeworld Security units as well as the Starfleet contingent based in Lor’Vela. Of course, Commander Worf also had used the opportunity to conduct his own sweep of the Parliament Andoria complex, including the mansion housing the offices of the presider as well as the subterranean auditorium and meeting rooms where the conference was to be held. Only after being satisfied with the security of the compound had he allowed Picard to transport to the surface. With respect to the safety of his captain, Worf had proven as intractable as Will Riker ever had been, a trait he obviously had taken to heart after years serving alongside the Enterprise’s former first officer.

  Noticing a change in sh’Anbi’s expression as she continued to study the courtyard, Picard asked, “Ensign? Is there something wrong?”

  “I . . . I mean, no, sir,” the young Andorian replied, shaking her head. “My apologies, Captain. I was just thinking about . . . something else.”

  It took Picard a moment to make the connection, but then he remembered what he had read in sh’Anbi’s personnel file when the ensign had first joined the Enterprise crew several months earlier. He also recalled a report filed by

  Dr. Hegol just a few days ago with respect to the young officer’s fitness for duty.

  “Ensign,” Picard said, “if you’re uncomfortable being here . . .”

  Again, sh’Anbi shook her head. “No, sir, I’m fine. I was just distracted for a moment by how beautiful everything here looks, compared to . . . other areas of the planet.” Though she said nothing else, Picard knew she was envisioning her home city, now little more than craters and ash a year after the Borg attack. Like many worlds across the Federation, jagged, scorched canyons, kilometers long where cities once had stood, mutilated Andor’s once-beautiful landscape. Millions of tons of ash, dirt, and soot had been thrown into the atmosphere, heightening the danger of global cooling as well as the rising risk of respiratory illness, particularly in children and the elderly. Brilliant scientific and engineering minds such as those assigned to Starfleet’s Corps of Engineers had hit on the notion of modifying planetary weather-modification satellites and networks to act as rudimentary, field-expedient atmosphere scrubbers, assisting with the monumental task of cleaning toxic pollutants from the air. The ploy was not nearly so all-encompassing as a true terraforming operation, but neither was it as time- and resource-intensive. Still, it would take years before all of the atmospheric impurities were removed from the air.

  No doubt sh’Anbi had viewed reports from the Federation News Service, broadcasting footage of the destroyed cities not only on Andor but on worlds throughout the quadrant. Perhaps such images were forever burned into her memory, and she was cursed to carry them with her all the days of her life. Picard could sympathize, given how his own mind still harbored the memories of the battle at Wolf 359, and the ships whose destruction he had witnessed while imprisoned by the Borg Collective as their unwilling spokesperson, Locutus.

  Enough, he chided himself. The Borg are gone. Forever.

  “Ensign,” he said, keeping his voice soft, “do you feel incapable of carrying out your duties due to personal matters?” It had been Dr. Hegol’s idea to include as many Andorian Enterprise crew members as possible into the various details and away teams scheduled to transport to the surface in support of the conference. The counselor’s reasoning was that it would send a silent yet still strong message to the conference attendees that Starfleet and the Federation stood alongside the Andorian people. At the time it had seemed like a reasonable request on Hegol’s part, though Picard had considered the idea that there might be an Andorian crew member still shaken by what had happened to their homeworld—particularly upon firsthand viewing of the devastation. What he had not anticipated was a reaction like sh’Anbi’s, who now confronted an area of the planet that had been spared annihilation while regions where her family had lived were not so fortunate.

  Drawing a deep breath, sh’Anbi said, “I’m fine, Captain. With your permission, I’d like to remain on this detail.”

  Picard offered her a small, paternal smile before laying his hand on her shoulder. “Very well, Ensign. Thank you.”

  Footsteps echoed off the stone tiles behind him, and Picard turned to see a group of Andorians emerging from a doorway several dozen meters down the walkway running parallel to the mansion. The small party’s most prominent member was a female Andorian dressed in a flowing multicolored robe that clothed her from neck to feet. Behind her followed two other Andorians, whom Picard guessed to be aides or assistants, and the entire party was flanked by a quartet of male Andorians dressed in black leather uniforms that he recognized as those worn by soldiers of Andor’s Homeworld Security contingent.

  “Captain Picard,” said the female Andorian as the group came closer. Smiling, she reached out to take his hand in both of hers. “I’m Presider Iravothra sh’Thalis. Welcome to Andor. Your reputation precedes you, and it is an honor to have you here.”

  “The honor is mine, Presider,” Picard replied with the practiced ease of an experienced diplomat. “The importance of this conference cannot be understated, and it’s a privilege for me to be a part of it.” Turning to indicate Chen with his free hand, he added, “May I introduce Lieutenant T’Ryssa Chen, the Enterprise’s contact specialist, and Ensign Ereshtarri sh’Anbi, a member of the ship’s security detail.”

  Turning to regard Chen, sh’Thalis asked, “And what does a contact specialist do in a situation such as this, Lieutenant?”

  “Anything the captain tells me to do, Presider,” Chen replied, her expression remaining neutral even when Picard flashed a mild rebuking glance in her direction.

  The response was enough to garner a small laugh from sh’Thalis, who next turned to regard Ensign sh’Anbi. “You honor us with your service t
o the Federation, Ensign.”

  “Thank you, Presider,” sh’Anbi replied, offering a formal bow of her head.

  Returning her attention to Picard, sh’Thalis asked, “Do you have many Andorians among your crew, Captain?”

  “Seventeen at present, Presider,” Picard replied. “We had fourteen others, two of whom requested assignment to the Starfleet contingent stationed here on Andor. The others elected to resign their commissions and return as civilians to aid in recovery and reconstruction efforts.” It had been a similar story with several members of the crew, but most especially from those whose homeworlds had survived the Borg invasion while still suffering varying degrees of damage.

  Nodding, sh’Thalis said, “We must each follow wherever our conscience chooses to lead, and a path of service in any capacity is not to be questioned.”

  “Indeed,” Picard replied. “Particularly now, I’d think. On that subject, I must say that it’s quite remarkable what you’ve been able to accomplish so far as reestablishing the parliament. My understanding is that ninety percent of government officials were lost in Laibok.” As he spoke the words, he glanced to Ensign sh’Anbi, whose expression revealed nothing.

  “We have very detailed plans of succession to thank for our ability to reorganize so quickly,” sh’Thalis said. “Though such plans still do not always allow for some of the more interesting choices to be made during a reconstruction effort like the one we’ve faced. Before the Borg came, I was the leader of a low-level committee, which kept mostly to itself. I oversaw efforts to protect natural resources and government-owned land such as parks, wildlife and nature preserves, as well as historical and culturally significant sites around the world.” Shaking her head, she released a small laugh. “That I was elevated to the office of presider should tell you all you need to know about just how deeply the Andorian central government was affected.”

  “You could have resigned,” Picard said, “or simply refused the appointment, and yet you chose to serve. A daunting task, to be sure.”

  Again, sh’Thalis smiled. “To be sure.” Gesturing for Picard to walk alongside her, the presider stepped toward the stone path leading away from the mansion and into the courtyard. As the party moved, her security detail once again took up their protective formation, keeping sh’Thalis and the rest of the group between them. “I wanted to personally thank you for the assistance you’ve offered for some of our reconstruction efforts. I imagine your crew’s technical expertise will be an invaluable asset in the coming days.”

  “Think nothing of it, Presider.” Among the tasks to which Picard had committed Enterprise resources and personnel were the repairs to several facilities scattered around the planet. Commander La Forge and his teams of engineers would soon be dispatched to assist with various tasks at those locations, to include getting a power generation plant back online and providing energy for a network of small villages and other provinces located in an isolated region several hundred kilometers south of Lor’Vela.

  “Your help is greatly appreciated,” sh’Thalis said. “As for other daunting tasks, that brings us to the subject of the forthcoming conference. I’m told that you have several concerns regarding security and the safety of the attendees.”

  “Yes, Presider,” Picard replied, falling in step with her as they moved farther into the courtyard. “Given the reports we’ve received regarding certain activist groups and their opposition to the work of people like Professor zh’Thiin, I’m sure you can see why I might be wary.”

  “Understandable,” sh’Thalis said, reaching out to pat Picard on the arm. “My security people have been collecting information on these groups for quite some time now, and they were a point of interest for my predecessor, as well.” Shaking her head, she released an audible breath. “Considering all that’s happened to our world, you would think those of us who survived could strive to put aside such petty differences and instead turn that effort toward salvaging what remains of our civilization. How anyone can believe that Professor zh’Thiin and those like her are working to destroy our race is, to be honest, beyond me.”

  “In times of crisis,” Picard said, “people often embrace whatever previously provided them comfort. Your world and its people have been through a terrible ordeal, which has also served to heighten a problem you were already facing. That some people might react in fear to the propositions being offered even as they struggle to rebuild what they’ve lost is not unusual.”

  The path they traversed came to an end at a line of foliage that acted as a natural barrier between the courtyard’s perimeter and the mansion. Stone gave way to grass, and out here the afternoon sun warmed Picard’s skin as a slight breeze worked to cool him. Looking up, he saw the blue sky laced with only a few clouds; perfect weather.

  I hope that’s a good omen.

  Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see Worf and Choudhury walking toward him at a brisk pace along the stone path leading from one of the courtyard’s picturesque gardens. “I don’t know if you’ve yet met my first officer, Presider.”

  “Not yet, no,” sh’Thalis replied, and Picard introduced Worf and Choudhury.

  “Mr. Worf, do you have a report for me?” Picard asked.

  Drawing himself up to his full, impressive height, the first officer replied, “Yes, Captain. We have just concluded our initial meetings with the Homeworld Security brigade commander as well as the officer in charge of the local Starfleet detachment. As expected, the preparations already under way for the conference are proceeding on schedule and with no significant trouble.”

  Choudhury added, “We’re currently in the process of integrating Enterprise security personnel into the overall plan developed by the brigade commander. I don’t expect to run into any problems, sir.”

  From behind sh’Thalis, one of her aides, a younger male carrying an electronic device that Picard took to be the equivalent to a padd, said, “Presider, I’ve just been informed that the preparations for your midday meal have been completed.”

  “Excellent,” sh’Thalis replied. Turning to Picard, she said, “I do hope you and your officers can join us, Captain. After all, there is much to discuss, both official and otherwise.”

  His interest piqued, Picard asked, “Otherwise, Presider?”

  “As I told you, my prior post involved the management of Andor’s numerous historical locations. Among those are several archeological sites, including one or two only recently discovered. Overseeing such culturally significant finds is a personal treat for me, as archeology was a subject for which I held great affection earlier in my life, before politics took over everything. Still, I was able to travel to some of those sites as part of my official duties, but now even that small pleasure has been curtailed in the face of my current responsibilities. I’m told you are something of an archeologist yourself.”

  Shaking his head, Picard replied, “I’m strictly an amateur, Presider, despite the best efforts of one of my professors at Starfleet Academy. There was a time when I did consider pursuing a career in that field, and it’s a subject I revisit as I’m able.”

  “Then you should avail yourself of just such an opportunity while you’re here, Captain,” sh’Thalis said. “We have a new discovery, something completely unknown to us until recently, that I think you’ll find to be nothing short of fascinating.”

  “Assuming time and my duties permit such a venture,” Picard said, “I’m certainly open to the idea.” The notion of doing some actual exploring intrigued him, and would without doubt provide a welcome change from the responsibilities he had shouldered these past several months. What was it that Andorian archeologists had found? Since the presider had deigned not to reveal specifics to him at this point, Picard figured she must be trying to preserve something of a surprise for him when and if he found time to visit the site. With any luck, the opportunity would present itself sooner rather than later, but for now, there were other matters requiring his attention.


  Diplomat before explorer, Jean-Luc.

  16

  Looking around Professor Marthrossi zh’Thiin’s well-appointed office, Beverly Crusher found herself feeling more than a bit envious. The private chamber was lined with shelves fashioned from a dark, stained wood and set into the room’s curved walls. Each of the shelves was filled almost to overflowing with books, their shapes and the text printed on their spines or covers telling Beverly that the professor’s collection featured works from planets throughout the Federation, as well as a few nonaligned and even adversarial worlds. Most of the books were medical volumes of one sort or another, spanning more subjects and specializations than Beverly could remember seeing even at the museum wing of the Starfleet Medical library on Earth.

  Scattered among the books were mementos from zh’Thiin’s long career, as well as what Beverly guessed to be cherished keepsakes from family or friends. The office’s far wall contained what appeared to be an old-fashioned wood-burning fireplace. Opposite the fireplace and behind zh’Thiin, a large oval-shaped window overlooked a small pond. The pond itself was part of the courtyard that encircled the building serving as a base of operations for the Starfleet contingent assigned to the new Andorian capital city of Lor’Vela. Off to one side of the fireplace was a small kitchen unit complete with replicator but also featuring a simple stove with two burners, atop one of which sat an oversized stone urn. A faint, sweet odor permeated the room, and Beverly realized the professor was brewing some kind of tea on the stove.

  “Maybe I need to reconsider private practice,” Beverly said.

  Looking up from where she sat behind a curved desk that to Beverly appeared to be carved from polished marble, zh’Thiin smiled. “Not exactly something you’d find aboard a starship, I’m sure.”

  “You can say that again,” Beverly replied. Despite her best efforts to transform her office in the Enterprise sickbay into something warm and inviting, it still was little more than a room aboard a spaceship. That much was unfortunate, considering the hours she often spent there, completing required reports, conducting research or personal consultations with patients, or simply hiding away for a few minutes to catch a bit of rest during the course of a long duty shift. Even her husband’s ready room, she long ago had conceded, was more appealing than her own office, and zh’Thiin’s private refuge made both of those spaces pale in comparison. Here, there was no omnipresent hum of warp engines reverberating through the bulkheads and the deck plates. There would be no Red Alert sirens, and with them the possibility of a hostile alien vessel or other threat destroying her office and the rest of the ship surrounding it.