Star Trek: Titan: Absent Enemies Read online

  Thirteen

  * * *

  The Baladonians had been busy indeed. Titan’s sensors had traced the warriors’ movements; they were searching Sanctum Isle from one side to the other for the Ekorr’s hidden interphase generators.

  They had found one very close to Jakoh’s new home—in a hidden chamber behind the cookhouse attached to the Lyceum Garadius. That had not come as a surprise to Titan’s crew: It was the source of many of the phased goods reaching the Ekorr. It had been abandoned, of course, its operators having long since phased themselves. When Riker saw that the Baladonians were bringing the cylindrical machine into the Lyceum Garadius—along with a suspicious shipment from one of their arsenals across the island—he knew it was time to act.

  “Even too busy to bring in another teleportation inhibitor,” Riker observed, seconds after his away team materialized in the anteroom to the rotunda. The Baladonians really weren’t that swift; the admiral suspected all the thinking lately had been done for them by their Breen visitor.

  Through the wide doorway he saw Thot Roje now, standing in the rotunda beside the huge anvil. In its shadow, Shayla and a Baladonian work crew moved the interphase generator closer to a meter-high dodecahedron. Jakoh stood nearby, grinning like a green fool.

  “Look there!”

  Jakoh’s guards snapped to attention, disruptors raised, when they saw Riker and his security officers. But the Baladonian overlord seemed unconcerned.

  “You’ve come back,” Jakoh said, walking closer to the fat polyhedron. Reaching outward, he found it with his fingertips. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “You cannot see the object in question,” Tuvok said, his own phaser in hand.

  “Oh, I don’t have to,” Jakoh said. “I remember it. It’s wonderful. A bomb. A big fat bomb, bigger than we ever dared set off on this island.” He stroked its silvery skin lovingly. “We call it the Cauterizer. We’ve sat on it for fifty years, afraid to use it.”

  Stepping out from behind Tuvok, Orica gasped when she saw the device. She had objected to returning to the lyceum until Tuvok told her his suspicions; now she could see the proof for herself.

  “We were prepared to use the thing if something crazy happened,” Jakoh said, “like the Ekorr learning to fight better than us. We’d never use it on our home otherwise—but we’ll happily send it to them.” Feeling around, he found the interphase generator and kicked at it. “You know, for years, we liked to pretend that the Ekorr were invisible to us. But now I see they’d have been a menace even then. They’ve been walking around as ghosts, spying on us—laughing at us!”

  Shayla stepped to the generator’s controls. “We’ve already set the bomb to explode as soon as it’s phased. We’ll blow their spirit forms to bits—and never have to see the mess!”

  Thot Roje seemed animated, concerned about what Riker’s team would do. Jakoh wasn’t. “You can’t stop it, Riker!” he said. “The process has already begun!”

  Riker sneered. “Boy, Jakoh, you really are blind. Do you know that?”

  Jakoh sputtered. “Did you hear that? He’s supposed to be a diplomat!” He shook with rage. “Yes, I’m blind! What of it?”

  “I mean you can’t see the obvious. You’re preparing your little gift to the Ekorr here—in a place the Ekorr know about, and are certainly watching.”

  Jakoh’s face froze.

  Tuvok operated his tricorder. “We cannot see the Ekorr, but they can see you. And they have evidently already triggered an anyon burst from their emitter here. This bomb will not phase. Not here, not now.”

  Thot Roje squawked—he could understand them—and the Baladonians panicked. Shayla called out: “Hurry! Deactivate the bomb!”

  “Never mind,” Riker said. “We identified it when we saw you bringing it over here—and we’ve already beamed the fissile material into space.” He casually sauntered into the area between the parties, not worried about the hostiles still in the room. “No, we were never worried about what you would do. We were more concerned about stopping what the Ekorr had planned.”

  Jakoh gulped. “What—what do you mean?”

  Riker gestured to the far wall. “I mean the phased botulinus bacteria, which the Ekorr are even now making appear within your water-treatment plants. The bacteria they intended to use to kill everyone on this island—everyone who didn’t take their own water supply into hiding, that is.”

  Tuvok nodded. “Our engineering teams discovered suspiciously high chroniton levels near their work sites. It took us a while to realize that they were caused by Ekorr agents, waiting to make their move.”

  The Baladonians roared with surprise. “Th-they—” Jakoh stammered, “th-they were going to eliminate all of us?”

  “Without harming their island,” Riker said. “They were going to wipe the planet clean, while their own people were immaterial. The bacteria would die out in two weeks. And the Ekorr would return to a world all their own.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Orica said, horrified. “I never saw containers for anything like that—and I went everywhere!”

  “I did not see them,” Tuvok said, “but I know I encountered them. They were in the pile of ‘empty’ containers hidden inside the anvil’s phased form. Zorrayn warned his people against shooting them, if you recall. What I climbed over to safety was actually a stack of bioweapon containment units.” If the prospect of clambering over them alarmed him, Tuvok did not show it.

  Riker walked past Jakoh, who was still shuddering with outrage. “Don’t worry, Jakoh. Mister Ra-Havreii’s teams have taken all the plants offline.” He stepped toward Thot Roje, who stood still as a statue, his disruptor drawn. “Did you get that, Roje? Both your plans have failed.”

  “Both?” Orica asked, bewildered.

  “That’s right.” Riker pointed accusingly at the Breen envoy. “He’s been here all along—like a Greek chorus. Or maybe more like the little devil whispering into the ears of both peoples.” He smirked. “I guess it’s hard for you to have much panache as a villain when we can’t see your face or understand you—but you are the villain of the piece.”

  The Breen warbled an objection, but Riker ignored it. “You approached the Ekorr, offering help with their phasing project. The arrival of your landing ships was Zorrayn’s cue to poison the Baladonians—and as soon as you knew that had happened, you were going to execute your other plan: making sure the Ekorr never came back. It was you who prompted Zorrayn to send out the message to the Federation asking for a maintenance call before he phased himself—so that when all the Baladonians died, you could blame the disaster on the Federation publicly, even as you took over the planet for yourself!”

  Tuvok stared at Thot Roje. “I suspect the Breen originally simply planned to destroy the anyonic emitter to prevent the Ekorr’s return—but the Baladonians’ bomb seemed a better option. After all, Pell Togah’s sensors had told you that the poison attempt had begun. You no longer needed the Ekorr.”

  Riker walked around in front of the giant anvil and put his hand to his mouth. “Did you hear that, Zorrayn?”

  “He might not hear you,” Orica said. “He could be anywhere on the island.”

  “Oh, no. He wouldn’t miss this.”

  Thot Roje took a step back—and then another—as he saw the Baladonians glaring at him.

  “Oh, don’t leave,” Riker said, cocking an eye toward the Breen. “Because I have something else that I want Zorrayn to hear. The Ekorr should know why the Romulans stopped pursuing an interphase cloak. It’s a topic I happen to have some personal experience with—as I’m sure your Breen friends have learned somewhere.

  “We had an explosion in main engineering on Pegasus—trying to use the interphase cloak on the entire vessel caused the plasma relay system to blow out. The Romulan vessel that Enterprise-D encountered before our last visit here hit a similar snag, with an explosion. You can only lose so
many ships before you realize a technology is too hot to handle.

  “And that, Zorrayn, is where you come in. You’ve been generating a lot of chroniton fields—phasing almost as much matter as exists in a starship. So many chronitons in one place appears to raise the odds of a random decay event. It starts in the phased world—and impacts the nonphased world soon after, with some fiery results. That’s what happened to Pegasus and the Romulan ship. So you needn’t have worried about the nerve gas. Because right now, you’re the bombs.”

  He paused, to let anyone listening think about it. “Oh, we don’t know when it’ll happen. But it could happen at any second, and that’s why I’m ordering the following steps to save the people on this planet. In approximately five minutes, Titan’s main emitter is going to bathe this island in anyons like you wouldn’t believe. It won’t hurt the Baladonians, no—but your people and your supplies are going to reappear wherever you happen to be. Anyone who’s presently inside something solid—well, it could get messy. But I’d rather have you materializing halfway in the middle of things, than blowing up and endangering the Baladonians.”

  Orica started toward Riker. “My people! You can’t!”

  “Then they’ve got to act now,” Riker said. “Zorrayn, Tuvok tells me you’ve got a public-address system over there. Say the word or not, it’s up to you.” He looked back at the Baladonians. “But I have a suggestion for Jakoh and his people: Find some mops!”

  Riker’s words echoed through the room for several moments.

  Then a familiar—if eerie—sight appeared. The spectral form of a small figure, writhing in pain, flickered into reality in the space before Riker. By the time the admiral could recognize the anguished form of Zorrayn—whom he had not seen since the Enterprise visit—a dozen more figures were beginning to make their appearance.

  The Baladonians looked around, not knowing what to do. Riker told them, “If anyone discharges a weapon, my ship is going to beam you all into the ocean.” He glared at Shayla. “I’ve had a hard day. Don’t test me.”

  Zorrayn, much the worse for his transition, struggled to regain his feet. He glowered up at Riker. “This . . . explosion business . . . wasn’t in La Forge’s notes!”

  “It’s what you get for stealing a work in progress.”

  Zorrayn spotted Thot Roje and jabbed a stubby finger at him. “And you! You gave us this technology—said it’d help us—and didn’t tell us!”

  “Like they cared?” Riker asked. “They only cared about what’s in that ocean, and how it might help their cause. And in a choice between having Baladonians or Ekorr here as their client caretakers, I suspect they chose a third option: letting all of you die so they could waltz in and take over!”

  Thot Roje warbled an angry-sounding response. But the room around him was angrier—and the Breen touched a control on his wrist. In a moment, he was gone, transported away.

  “And that is why the transport inhibitor wasn’t replaced here,” Tuvok said. “Roje expected this moment might go wrong.”

  “I don’t care,” Riker replied. “He heard what I wanted him to hear.” He looked back out at the room. There were no sides anymore, as Ekorr rematerialized beside Baladonians; and the same thing was happening outside, on the great plaza, if the astonished cries were any indication. Riker walked toward the eastern window and threw open the curtains.

  “Both your peoples are currently unarmed and in each other’s midst,” the admiral said. “You can wrestle each other to the death—or you can talk. I can tell you which one I’d prefer . . .”

  Epilogue

  * * *

  For her first de facto captaincy, Vale thought, things had gone pretty well. No admiral had been lost—and three Breen warships had been destroyed. A fourth had run like a scared puppy.

  Pell Togah had departed seconds after Thot Roje had been retrieved; on the admiral’s orders, Titan hadn’t given chase. Vale had found that curious, after all that the Breen were accused of doing—but rather than feeling it was a case of interference, she chose to assume he had his reasons and that they were valid.

  Neither the Ekorr nor the Baladonians seemed to have much energy for a final battle royale, and with Admiral Riker’s warning that the Breen might yet return in greater numbers to invade their world, both sides repaired to their homes—their original homes, in Jakoh’s case. Remaining phased supplies and laggard Ekorr were being traced and returned to reality, and a Starfleet contingent was on the way to help the people of Garadius IV on an ongoing basis. That was the Federation’s price for extending Starfleet protection to the planet, and it was one the locals seemed willing to pay. The Breen had given the Baladonians and the Ekorr someone they could mutually hate.

  Titan remained in orbit, making sure the tainted water supply was completely safe and guaranteeing the peace. This gave its officers time for much-needed rest—and some return to normalcy and tradition.

  “Spit in the Ocean,” Riker said, dealing the cards in his quarters.

  Tuvok blanched.

  “What? It’s a card game.”

  “I am aware,” Tuvok said, anteing up. “But I do not understand what saliva has to—” He stopped. “Never mind.”

  Troi chuckled. “So, Tuvok, are you still as impressed as you were with the Ekorr’s version of peaceful cohabitation?”

  “What I saw was the illusion of peace,” Tuvok said. “Keeping out of sight of your rivals is no answer to the challenge of coexistence. It requires work.”

  Vale looked at her miserable cards after the draw and folded. “Well, it worked out. I guess it wasn’t too bad dealing with those people again, after all. Was it, Admiral?”

  Riker made a pained face. “No, it was bad!” Everyone at the table laughed. “But it worked. I expect you all to go on saving me from diplomatic scrapes as necessary—and to keep on shooting anybody who tries to kidnap me. Thanks again, Captain.”

  Vale smiled. “Will do.”

  Riker tossed more chips onto the table, prompting Troi and Tuvok to fold. “And if they try to send me to Garadius a third time,” he said, chuckling, “phase me!”

  All laughed—save for the Efrosian engineer, the last in the pot. “Actually, I have a question, Admiral.”

  “So do I. Are you in or out?”

  “My question first?”

  “All right.”

  “Your ploy to get the Ekorr to reappear worked,” Xin said, “but I don’t know that it was necessary to tell them that their phased states would spontaneously deteriorate. That ‘random decay’ business. I’ve never heard of anything like that in the research.”

  Riker didn’t respond.

  Xin clutched his cards, and his brow furrowed. “Surely the Ekorr had enough motivation to return on their own, sir, with Titan ready to act and with their source of food and water compromised. Your announcement seemed—well, superfluous.”

  “Why would your admiral lie, you mean?” Riker looked around the table.

  Tuvok glanced at Riker. “A Starfleet admiral does not lie, Mister Ra-Havreii. At least, this one doesn’t. He bluffs.”

  Vale put her fist beneath her chin. “He does, doesn’t he?”

  Riker placed his cards facedown in his hand, without folding. “All right. Who else was listening down there? Thot Roje, of the Breen. And now the Breen believe the phasing technique may be flawed.”

  “Which it may well be,” the engineer said. “This technique, that is. There are likely other methods, other kinds of phasing, where other physical rules apply. But still—”

  “Can you imagine what would happen if someone put together the portable phasing technology the Breen gave the Ekorr with something offensive in nature? Something like the drones the Ba’ku used to tag the So’na for transport? You could fire at an enemy and knock them out of phase. They’d starve to death, if they didn’t go crazy first.”

  “It .
. . sounds like we’d need anyon emitters on every battlefield, to go along with transport inhibitors,” Vale said.

  “And what would it do if the Breen took this technology—which they know we and the Romulans both gave up on—and kept on with it, putting it toward espionage?”

  Tuvok spoke gravely: “We would need anyon fields surrounding all areas we want to secure. Everywhere.”

  “That’ll be costly,” Xin said.

  “What’s easier, then? Retrofitting every starship and starbase—or convincing the Breen that this approach doesn’t work?” Riker asked. “This way, you’ve won with a pair of threes.”

  The Efrosian dropped his cards on the table. “Like you just did, you mean.”

  “Sorry,” Riker said, pulling the chips toward him. “That information is Admiral-eyes only. Now, whose deal is it?”

  A

  CKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My appreciation goes to Margaret Clark and Ed Schlesinger, and John Van Citters at CBS for making this opportunity available.

  I also owe a debt of gratitude to Ronald D. Moore, writer of the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “The Next Phase,” which inspired this story. Thanks also go to Christopher L. Bennett, whose theories about how phasing worked helped to inform my approach.

  And thanks always to Meredith Miller, proofreader and Number One in my world.

  A

  BOUT THE AUTHOR

  John Jackson Miller is the New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: Kenobi, Star Wars: Knight Errant, Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith—The Collected Stories, and fifteen Star Wars graphic novels, as well as Overdraft: The Orion Offensive. A comics industry historian and analyst, he has written for several franchises, including Conan, Iron Man, Indiana Jones, Mass Effect, and The Simpsons. He lives in Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and far too many comic books.

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