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"THE BRIAR PATCH" By Dinah Rating: PG Author’s note: I want to thank all of you for your reviews. I really appreciate it. I also want to extend my sincere thanks to Blacknblue for his sage advice. As usual, he was spot on.
CHAPTER 5: MAJOR LUVAN If Major Luvan lived for another hundred years, he knew he would never understand Humans. He’d become inured to their inane conversations during meals, but the frantic gesticulations with forks and spoons, the guffaws which spewed bits of food over unsuspecting dinner companions, the greasy hands which gripped unappealing, foreign-sounding foods such as barbecued spareribs, fried chicken and pepperoni pizza – that was too much. Luvan’s eyes quickly scanned the diners in the cafeteria, which occupied 21% of the United Earth Embassy’s lower level. The room itself was pleasant enough – the soft blue and green appointments were soothing to the senses – but the cacophonous noise was hardly an aid to digestion. The cafeteria line, with its questionable open containers of food, stretched along the far wall. Twenty-six round white metal tables, each surrounded by four white metal chairs with casters on the legs and overly padded seats and backs, were spread evenly across the large, airy room. Given a choice, he much preferred to dine in the small café, which was located across the central hall from the cafeteria. The café, which was divided into twelve relatively private dining areas, served only food from alien worlds. Occasionally, humans with adventuresome palates ate at the café, but the customers were primarily visiting aliens or alien employees. The food was reputed to be surprisingly good for a Human establishment. The major, however, could not personally attest to that fact. He cared little about food, eating only when he required fuel for his body. Suddenly he heard the sound of laughter. Glancing to his left, he saw a young Starfleet lieutenant grab a crouton from the top of her salad and toss it at the overly amused male seated across the table from her. Luvan was not surprised by this inappropriate behavior; in point of fact, he rather expected it. Humans were, after all, little more than unruly children. Without discipline and self-control, they would never reach their full potential as a species. Fortunately, he’d discovered something more substantial in one member of their species. That was just as well. It made his current assignment considerably less onerous. Luvan sat twelve feet from the table where his charge, Commander Charles Tucker III, or Trip as he persistently asked to be addressed, was engaged in a spirited conversation with two men, who were executives with a powerful interstellar cargo company. As he watched them, Luvan wondered idly if Starfleet realized that their foremost warp field engineer was being courted by at least four private firms. He thought not. Humans often seemed to be oblivious when it came to matters of importance. Then again, perhaps Starfleet knew and simply didn’t care. Immediately after their reassignment, Commanders Tucker and T’Pol had been invited to attend meetings of the High Council. Their subsequent briefings were surprisingly well-received by both Starfleet and embassy personnel. Unfortunately, after eighteen days, the Vulcans had cut off all access to the High Council. No explanations were given. Since the restrictions imposed by the High Council made it virtually impossible for the two commanders to carry out their duties as liaisons, they had expected to be transferred back to Enterprise. When that didn’t happen, they’d sent a formal request for transfer to Starfleet, but nothing came of it. Now four weeks and two days later, they were still waiting, languishing in obscurity, and no one from Starfleet seemed to be the least bit interested. Hands folded on the table in front of him, back rigidly straight, Luvan studied the two men dining with the commander, trying to gauge the accuracy of the information he’d read in their dossiers. Martin Granville, seated to the left of Tucker, was president and chief executive officer of the United Earth Cargo Corporation. At five feet nine inches tall and 167 pounds, the 39-year- old Granville was not physically imposing. He had a ready smile and an amiable personality, but his body language made it clear that he was also a man who was comfortable wielding power. His Chief Operating Officer, Emil Proehl, on the other hand, appeared nervous and unsure of himself, constantly blotting perspiration from his brow with a soggy, balled-up handkerchief. With his round, overweight body and pudgy, well-manicured hands, he appeared harmless, but anyone who’d had business dealings with Proehl knew there was nothing soft about him. Like Granville, he had a reputation for accepting nothing but the best and doing whatever was necessary to get it. There had been other lunches and dinners, both here in the cafeteria and in the formal dining room on the top floor of the embassy, as well as a steady stream of messages from Earth. With the prospect of war looming, defense contractors, freight haulers and passenger carriers were scrambling to obtain the services of someone with Commander Tucker’s expertise. Tomorrow, the commander was scheduled to meet with Andra Patkar of Interstellar Transport Services, a company eager to develop a passenger ship capable of cruising at warp 3. Then there were the daily calls from Eduardo Galland, CEO of Howard-Barlow, Inc., the primary supplier for many of the components used in Starfleet’s warp engines. Having overheard several of those calls, Luvan knew that Gerard could be an extremely persuasive and determined man. There had even been some feelers from a representative of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology asking Tucker to join the faculty as head of their warp theory department. When this assignment first began, Luvan knew with some degree of certainty that these people were wasting their time; now he wasn’t quite so sure. Commander Tucker was becoming increasingly restless and dissatisfied. As things stood now, if the right offer came along, the commander might be persuaded to turn in his uniform. The major saw Tucker’s head turn toward the doorway. There was no one there, but Luvan knew that T’Pol would be arriving momentarily. Over the past weeks, he’d watched the interaction between the two commanders with growing interest. They were obviously involved with one another, even though they made every effort to be discreet. At first he found their relationship distasteful, but he’d since revised his opinion. Commander Tucker was certainly not the equal of a Vulcan male, but he was surprisingly capable for a Human. As expected, T’Pol appeared in the doorway and motioned to the commander. With a nod of recognition, Tucker stood, shook hands with the two men from the UECC and said his good-byes. Moving quickly to the doorway, he exchanged a few whispered words with T’Pol and then they left together. Luvan rose immediately and followed them. T’Pol was no longer accompanied by her female bodyguard. Without warning, Private Money had been recalled to Enterprise eight days ago. Commander Tucker immediately filed a protest with Starfleet, but the situation remained unchanged. No explanation for the recall was given. In light of the unexpected move, Luvan thought that he, too, would be asked to leave the embassy, but so far there had been no demand for a change in his status. The three officers went directly to the room the major shared with Commander Tucker. Once inside, T’Pol moved to the monitor mounted on the walnut desk in the far corner of the room and tapped in a code. “I thought you should see this,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Tucker. “It is a portion of a speech delivered by Julian Esterle at a political rally held yesterday in Sydney, Australia.” “Esterle?” Wrinkling his brow, Trip pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Oh yeah, I remember now. My Mom mentioned him the last time we talked. He’s the fella who thinks he can get Earth back on the right track by preaching isolationism.” “Yes, and apparently people are beginning to listen. In the past few weeks, rallies for his Peace Forever Movement have drawn huge crowds worldwide.” “You’ve been keepin’ tabs on him?” “Yes,” Luvan replied, from where his stood just inside the door. “The Ministry of Security monitors all political activities which might have an impact on Vulcan citizens. I alerted Commander T’Pol to the growing importance of this movement sixteen days ago.” Luvan took note of the scowl on Tucker’s face. Perhaps he’d been remiss in not informing both commanders. “With the coming parliamentary elections on Earth,” T’Pol added, “Mr. Esterle has evidently decided that a stronger message is needed.” There was a palpable tightness in her voice. “I think you should be aware of what he is advocating. If he is successful in accomplishing his goals, it will bring about sweeping changes, some of which will affect us directly.” Tucker sat down on the bed closest to the monitor. “Okay, let’s see what he’s got to say.” T’Pol accessed the appropriate file from the embassy’s database then sat down next to him. The image of a large open-air stadium filled the screen. As the crowd cheered wildly, the camera panned a full 360 degrees before zooming in on an unadorned stage at the center of the field. Under a cloudless blue sky, a lone man stood near the front of the stage acknowledging the cheers of his audience. “This is the guy everyone’s so het up about,” Tucker observed incredulously. “He looks like a beach bum.” Looking from T’Pol to Luvan, he evidently saw the questioning looks on their faces. “Well, look at him.” Tucker pointed toward the screen. “He can’t be a day over twenty-five. Bleach blond hair down to his shoulders. California tan. He’s even wearin’ sandals with his suit.” “You may see him as a figure of fun, but I do not believe he is a man to be taken lightly,” T’Pol responded. Tucker held up his hands in mock surrender before turning his attention to the man on the screen. When the crowd quieted, Esterle spread his arms wide. “Peace Forever,” he cried jubilantly, and the crowd immediately roared its approval. He allowed the applause to continue for a minute and a half before motioning for silence. When he once again had their full attention, Esterle cupped his hands in front of him. “We hold the future in our hands. This is the time for every man and woman to step forward and raise their voices so that people around this blessed planet can hear our message. We will settle for nothing less than a world free from fear, intimidation, violence, and war – a world where Earth controls her own destiny. “The coming parliamentary elections stand as the most crucial in the history of our planet. We are at the threshold of a golden age. Prosperity, enlightenment and cultural advancement await those who have the courage to stand up and demand an end to entangling alliances…an end to threats of war…an end to politicians who place the well-being of other species over the welfare of their own people.” With a satisfied look on his face, Esterle waited calmly for the cheers to subside once again before he continued. “First, it is imperative that we acknowledge that peace begins at home. There is no room in a peaceful society for terrorist organizations such as Terra Prime. They are a cancer which slowly destroys all that is good in humanity. We, as right-minded people, must make it clear that these terrorists stand as an example of everything we abhor and, therefore, must be rooted out. We must tell our government officials in no uncertain terms that we expect them to bring Terra Prime’s reign of terror to an end. You and I…” Arms outstretched, he turned around slowly in place. “All of us working together can bring about change peacefully.” Luvan saw a look pass between the two commanders. He was well aware of their ongoing struggle with Terra Prime. “For the past five years, we have read accounts of the exploits of Captain Jonathan Archer and the crew of the starship Enterprise. At first I, too, was caught up in the excitement of exploring the unknown, but unfortunately we are no longer wide-eyed innocents. It is time for our leaders to realize that the exploration of space is a luxury we can no longer afford.” Commander Tucker shifted uneasily when this statement produced a huge cheer from the crowd. “Our ships are needed here at home to protect our planet and support our colonies. We cannot run the risk that Enterprise, Columbia, or some other Starfleet vessel will provoke an alien power and bring down their wrath upon our heads. Earth cannot withstand another attack like that visited upon us by the Xindi. “Now I hear what some of you are saying. Yes, aliens have helped us in many ways over the years – I will not dispute that – but now it’s time for us to help ourselves. It is time for all aliens to return to their own worlds. Earth is not their home. “We must bring an end to this ill-advised Coalition, which threatens the peace and security of our world. We cannot allow alien species to involve us in their feuds, some of which have been ongoing for centuries. We must break off all contact with the Vulcans, Andorians, and every other species that can deny us the peace we so richly deserve. We must close their embassies, take their books from the shelves in our libraries, and remove all alien influences from our schools and universities. It’s time for us to stand on our own feet, unaided. Only when the last alien has peacefully left this planet will we truly be free. Earth belongs to the human race!” The applause was thunderous. With his hands clasped in front of him and a smug smile spread across his face, Esterle stood motionless on the stage, basking in the approbation of the crowd. When the cheers began to wane, he threw his arms over his head and yelled, “We deserve peace! We will accept nothing less than peace forever!” The audience rose as one, roaring their approval. Shouts of “peace forever” echoed again and again throughout the stadium. T’Pol rose and turned off the monitor. “The rest of his speech deals with domestic issues.” She kept her back to Tucker. The tension in her voice made it clear that she was struggling to maintain her composure. “If you are interested, you may continue to watch…but I have seen enough.” “Are all the rallies like this one?” Tucker asked quietly. He sat with his shoulders slumped, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. “I cannot say. Watching one rally was quite enough.” “Esterle can call it peace, but what he’s preachin’ is intolerance. He’s nothing but a damn bigot!” “If this man has his way, my people will no longer be welcome on Earth. I…will no longer be welcome.” Commander Tucker jumped to his feet and gently took hold of her shoulders. “Don’t say that. Just because a few thousand idiots are willing to listen to this man’s nonsense, doesn’t mean that most Humans think the same way.” “That stadium holds considerably more than a few thousand people. And don’t forget the other rallies in other stadiums.” “Those people are just runnin’ scared. They’re all still living in the shadow of the Xindi weapon. You mustn’t let it upset you,” he murmured. When he nuzzled her hair, she slowly leaned back against his chest. “Besides, I don’t give a damn what anybody thinks. Earth isn’t my world anymore; you are.” “I will not be responsible for keeping you from your family.” “If I remember right, Mom called Esterle a jackass. I wouldn’t let it worry you.” “But if people knew that we…” Suddenly T’Pol pulled away from Tucker and spun around. She’d obviously just remembered that they were not alone. When Tucker turned his head and caught sight of Luvan, he stiffened. “We…uh… He took a deep breath and collected himself. “What you just saw here never happened. Understand?” “Commander Tucker, I have spent over a month with you. I would be a poor excuse for a security officer if I was unaware that your relationship with Commander T’Pol has progressed beyond that of mere colleagues. You have my word that I will continue to respect your privacy.” “Thanks. We appreciate your discretion.” Relaxing noticeably, Tucker gestured toward the monitor. “Obviously, this isn’t the best time for a Vulcan- Human relationship to become public knowledge.” “Indeed.” Luvan turned toward the door. “I have been ordered to report to Minister Vaaris. I will return to the embassy in two hours. It is imperative for you to remain in this room until then. Ambassador Soval would be most displeased if anything happened to you in my absence.” “Take your time,” Trip said, as he unobtrusively took T’Pol’s hand in his. “We’ll be right here when you get back.” Minister Vaaris was late. Major Luvan stood, hands on hips, and scanned the sky in all directions. The only thing visible was the brilliant red-orange Vulcan sun, which blazed overhead. Even the clouds had abandoned this desolate wasteland. He disliked the secrecy that had become so much a part of his job of late. Someday, when the current crisis had passed, his people would be able to communicate with one another, once again, without resorting to coded messages and clandestine meetings, but for now, they were necessary to ensure both his own survival and the survival of his species. While he walked back to the shuttle, he carefully considered his options. Attempting to communicate with Vaaris was out of the question; it would be a breach of security. Leaving was also not an option. There was no point in attempting to find Vaaris because he had no idea where to look. He would just have to wait. If the minister still had not arrived when it was time for Luvan to return to the United Earth Embassy, he would alert the Ministry of Security. They were better equipped to undertake a search than he was. Leaning back against the side of the shuttle, he tried to relax his tense muscles, while still remaining vigilant. Off in the distance, he could just make out the south entry to the Fire Plains. That area, with its mammoth stone statues and fiery lava coursing from the heart of Vulcan itself, had always held a special fascination for him. It was also the only place where he’d ever felt close to his father. From the time he was eight years old, Luvan had visited the lava beds once each year with his father for a week of study and contemplation. His father’s work with the Ministry of Security often took him away from home for long stretches at a time, and even when he was home, he had little interest in interacting with a child who had not yet learned to fully control his emotions. His mother, understanding the importance of a paternal role model in a child’s life, had suggested the visits and his father had reluctantly complied. During these trips, he and his father had had many stimulating discussions on a myriad of topics, including history, geography, astronomy, and geology. Luvan never failed to be impressed by his father’s breadth of knowledge and his intense interest in the universe around him. Unfortunately, these conversations came to an abrupt halt as soon as they returned home, and once again a wall of silence descended between father and son. Then one day his father had gone away and never returned, the victim of a pernicious disease on an alien world. His death had barely sent a ripple through his family. Even his mother had almost seemed unmoved by the passing of her mate. It was ironic that Luvan had chosen to travel the same path as his father. His two children, now both grown, had also had a father who was frequently absent on assignments for the Ministry of Security, only their upbringing had never included trips to the Fire Plains. For a fleeting moment, Luvan felt a twinge of regret for what he had missed, but he quickly quashed those thoughts; they would serve no useful purpose. He had done his duty. He had married, sired children, and provided for his family’s welfare. He had been a dutiful husband, but he and his wife were strangers to the emotions that he had seen, in unguarded moments, in the eyes of Commanders Tucker and T’Pol. But then T’Pol was playing a fool’s game; no good could come from losing control of one’s emotions…especially with a Human. A dot on the horizon caught his attention and he straightened, instantly on the alert. As he watched, the dot grew steadily until he could identify three Vulcan shuttles flying in a V formation. Luvan’s head swiveled as they streaked by. Then he saw the lead shuttle bank to the right and begin its descent while the other two ships began circling overhead. The shuttle sent up a swirl of grit as it touched down. Twenty-five seconds later the hatch opened and Lieutenant Komas stepped out. After taking a careful look around, he called softly over his shoulder and Minister Vaaris emerged. When the minister motioned toward a spot midway between the two shuttles, Luvan started forward. As soon as the two men were facing one another, the diminutive minister wasted no time getting down to business. “Over the past week, there has been a marked increase in subspace traffic between Earth and their embassy here on Vulcan. So far, we have been unable to break their code, but all indications point to something major occurring in the next couple of days. I want you to be on your guard, Major.” “Yes, sir. Do you believe Commander Tucker is in any imminent danger?” “I don’t know, but we cannot afford to take any chances. Torok is adamant that Commander Tucker must be protected at all costs.” “And what about Commander T’Pol?” Luvan unobtrusively took a couple of steps back so that the minister, a man well over six inches shorter than the major, didn’t have to crane his neck to look up at him. “The Human who was guarding her returned to Enterprise eight days ago.” “I’m afraid the responsibility for T’Pol’s safety must also fall on your shoulders. Soval has tried on several occasions to get Lieutenant Komas admitted to the embassy to protect T’Pol. Each time, his request has been denied.” Luvan was not surprised. From what he’d observed, Humans seemed to think that if they ignored a problem, it would simply go away. “There is little more that I can do. As per your orders, I have provided the Humans with regular reports. They are well aware that, over the past month, the commanders have been followed five times when they left the embassy grounds. Two weeks ago, when I discovered that the commanders’ rooms had been searched, I notified embassy security personnel immediately. I also provided copies of the threatening messages they have been receiving.” “Be that as it may, Ambassador Belliveau still insists that the commanders are not in any real danger; therefore, he sees no need for bodyguards. Soval was able to persuade him to allow you to remain, but I think it is only a matter of time until you, too, will be asked to leave.” That tallied with Luvan’s assessment of the situation. “I am impressed that Soval was able to accomplish even that much. “Explain.” “It has come to my attention that the Humans are quietly expelling Vulcan workers from their embassy.” A look of concern spread over Vaaris’ face. “I have heard nothing about this. Are you sure?” “Yes. During my weeks in the embassy, I became acquainted with Tolec, a scholar who works in their research library. This morning, he was told that his services would no longer be required. Financial cutbacks were cited as the reason for his termination, but when he was preparing to leave, he found documentation that a Human worker would be arriving next week to take over his job. He knows of at least three other Vulcan workers who have lost their positions in the past two days.” “Perhaps their work was unsatisfactory.” “I do not think that is the case. While Commander Tucker showered and shaved, I was able to gain entry to their database. A quick check of their employment records revealed that the files of all Vulcan workers have been flagged. There was no indication that a deadline had been set for the terminations, but it would not surprise me if Commander T’Pol and I are the only Vulcans left in the United Earth Embassy by the end of the week.” Obviously deep in thought, Vaaris tucked his hands up the sleeves of his robe and took several steps away from Luvan. The cry of a sehlat could be heard off in the distance, but the minister never stirred; his attention remained focused on the patch of ground directly in front of his feet. Finally he asked, “Did you see anything that would lead you to think that the Humans are preparing to break off relations with our government?” “No, sir.” Vaaris looked back over his shoulder and studied Luvan. “Spoken with confidence, Major.” “Such a move would be highly illogical, even for Humans. It would doom their Coalition. At this point, I have seen nothing that would indicate they are ready to go that far.” “I will notify Soval of your findings as soon as we are done here. He and V’Lar are scheduled to meet with Belliveau later today. Soval is accustomed to dealing with Humans. Perhaps he can gain some insight into what they are planning.” “Soval may want to review this information before his meeting with V’Lar and the ambassador.” Reaching into his pocket, Luvan pulled out a data disk and held it out to Vaaris. “This is the latest intelligence on Terra Prime from our embassy on Earth.” After motioning for Lieutenant Komas to join them, Vaaris took the disk from the major. “Have you looked at this?” “Yes. There are several items of interest.” “Such as?” “John Frederick Paxton is dead.” Surprised, Vaaris raised one eyebrow. “Has this been verified?” “Our agents were not able to view the body, but a man who assisted at the autopsy was willing to talk…for a price.” “How did Paxton die?” “The official cause of death is listed as suicide.” “Official cause? Is there some question as to the accuracy of the pathologist’s report?” “The fact that Paxton had been receiving Rigelian gene therapy for Taggart’s Syndrome is well documented. The autopsy showed that at some point this treatment was stopped. He was not able to survive for long without it.” “You’re implying that he was murdered?” Komas observed coolly. “There is nothing to suggest that Paxton willingly decided to stop the treatment.” “I cannot believe that the leaders of United Earth would condone murder,” Vaaris said in a peremptory tone of voice, “even if the victim was a convicted criminal.” “It may have been done without their knowledge.” Luvan thought that many of the Human leaders probably were, in fact, corrupt, but this was not the time to challenge the minister’s opinion. “Have you told the commanders? They will undoubtedly be interested to learn of Paxton’s fate.” “Not yet, but I am sure the news will reach the embassy soon. I would rather that they did not learn of it from me. I don’t want to have to explain where I got my information.” “Very wise.” Vaaris held the disk up and wiggled it back and forth. “Is there anything else of note on this? Does it contain the information we’ve been seeking?” Luvan shook his head. “Our agents still have not discovered how Terra Prime was able to transmit their message on one of our secure diplomatic frequencies.” With lips pressed firmly together, Vaaris thrust the disk into a pocket stitched into the lining of his light brown robes. “That is unacceptable. Only someone in a position of authority in our government had access to that information. We must find that person before he can do any further damage.” Luvan watched with interest as Lieutenant Komas lifted his chin and clasped his hands firmly behind his back. Judging by his body language, the young man knew that what he was about to say might not necessarily be viewed in a positive light. “Given the untenable restrictions placed on our intelligence agents,” Komas stated, “I doubt that you will ever obtain the information you desire. The Ministry of Security knows the identities and the whereabouts of a number of influential members of Terra Prime. These people should be seized at once and interrogated. Humans are weak. They would soon tell us everything we need to know.” “And then what?” Luvan asked. A frown wrinkled Komas’ brow. “I do not understand.” Luvan had to admit that Komas’ suggestion had some merit, but, given the current political climate, it was a risk that might prove too costly in the long run. It was clear the lieutenant had not taken all possible ramifications into consideration before he spoke. That was unacceptable, especially for an officer in a potentially sensitive area such as security. “What happens to these Humans after we are done with them? Do we simply kill them and dispose of their bodies or do we allow them to live and run the risk that they will tell everyone that they were captured and tortured by Vulcans?” Komas stiffened. “We would not have to kill them, although the loss of a few Humans would be of little consequence. We have a number of operatives who have the necessary skills to perform mind wipes.” “The High Council will never give its approval for that.” “The Ministry of Security is empowered to do whatever is necessary to protect Vulcan. We do not need the approval of the High Council.” Luvan knew that a certain amount of ruthlessness was necessary for anyone working for the Ministry of Security. He had killed in the past and never given it a second thought; he was only doing his duty. But ruthlessness must always be tempered by logic. Komas had apparently lost sight of that fact. Perhaps his advancement at the Ministry had been too rapid. For the next few months, it might be best if he spent less time in the field and more time learning to control his impulsive nature. “Mind wipes should not be taken lightly,” Luvan stated in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “The procedure is not only controversial, even when performed by a priest, but it also might prove to be dangerous. We do not know what effect the procedure will have on Humans.” “Enough.” Vaaris held up his hand, halting any further discussion. “Our relations with Earth are already strained. We cannot run the risk of being caught interrogating Humans against their will. We must find another way to obtain the information we need.” Luvan thought a moment, carefully weighing what he was about to suggest. “Over the past weeks, I have watched a number of broadcasts from Earth. It is becoming increasingly apparent that public sentiment is turning against Terra Prime. Without Paxton, they no longer have a unifying force. Our agents report that there appears to be a growing power struggle within the organization. This will foment discontent and disloyalty. If the government of United Earth could be persuaded to offer disgruntled members immunity from prosecution in exchange for information, we, as the injured party, would have the right to be notified of any revelations related to Terra Prime’s claim that they were responsible for the destruction of our ships.” “Yes, I see,” Vaaris said, pausing to consider Luvan’s words. “Even though we have right on our side, such a concession from Earth’s government might not be easy to obtain. We ask for cooperation from them when we, in the past, have demonstrated an unwillingness to offer them the same consideration.” “Obviously, we may have to offer something in exchange. Perhaps giving Commanders Tucker and T’Pol limited access to the meetings of the High Council once again would be a show of good faith on our part.” “I think it is time for Soval to return to Earth.” Turning on his heel, Vaaris started for his shuttle, taking it for granted that the two security officers would follow. “He has the connections inside Starfleet and the United Earth government to ensure that this will work to our benefit. V’Lar is more than capable of handling any negotiations with the Humans here on Vulcan. I must speak with T’Pau.” Given the sour expression on Komas’ face, there was little doubt that he did not agree with Vaaris’ decision, but he made no further comment. When Vaaris reached the open hatch, he stopped. “I want to meet with Commanders Tucker and T’Pol this evening, as scheduled. We still have a great deal of intelligence data to sift through. Minister Speth was a very thorough man. I think it would be wise, however, to change the meeting site. I believe my home is being watched. It is only reasonable to assume that our previous meetings sites are being watched as well.” “Commander T’Pol’s home is unoccupied,” Komas offered. “We might catch the enemy off guard.” “It might do.” Deep in thought, Vaaris entered the shuttle and took the seat closest to the open hatch. “T’Pol would probably have no objections, but we would be isolated there…” “…which could work to our advantage,” Komas added. “We will be able to catch our enemies off guard.” “It could also leave us vulnerable to attack. At this critical juncture, we cannot afford to end up like Speth. Corpses will not save Vulcan.” When Komas started to protest, Vaaris waved him off and immediately turned his attention to Luvan, who, like Komas, stood directly outside the open hatch. “All right. With T’Pol’s consent, we will use her family home tonight, but I want extra security. You know the people who can be trusted.” “Yes, sir,” Luvan replied. “I also think it would be wise to vary our rendezvous time. Over the past several weeks, we have become too predictable.” “Agreed. We will meet 45 minutes later than scheduled.” Without further comment, Vaaris motioned to Lieutenant Komas that it was time to get underway. Luvan quickly stepped away from the shuttle as Komas closed the hatch. He was already giving careful consideration to the security assignments for tonight. He’d once had complete confidence in his ability to determine the trustworthiness of others; that was no longer the case. Only last week, mandatory blood tests had revealed that a member of the Ministry of Security – a man Luvan had known and trusted for many years – was, in fact, a Romulan agent. If the man hadn’t become careless about masking the distinctive Romulan antibody in his blood, he might easily have been one of the people the major would have chosen to protect Minister Vaaris and the others. From here on out, Luvan knew he could not afford to make a mistake. Even a small error in judgment could spell disaster. People – men and women who potentially held the future of this entire sector in their hands – were depending on him to keep them safe. “Hand me that hyperspanner, will ya?” Commander Tucker lay sprawled on his back on the floor of the embassy’s mechanical room. One of the two auxiliary generators had malfunctioned and he’d volunteered to repair it. After twenty-two minutes of banging and cursing, his efforts so far had met with little success. “We must leave within the next fifteen minutes or we will be late,” Luvan said sternly as he scanned Tucker’s disheveled appearance. “You have very little time to make yourself presentable.” “I know, I know. I’m almost finished.” Tucker stuck out his right hand, palm up and wiggled his fingers impatiently. “Just give me the hyperspanner, and I’ll be able to button this baby up in a couple of minutes.” Luvan sighed – something he’d never done prior to meeting the commander – and reluctantly handed over the tool. With a few mumbled words of thanks, Tucker, once again, turned his attention to the job at hand. This tinkering, of one sort or another, had been going on now for almost three weeks. With little to keep him occupied now that his duties with the High Council were at an end, the commander had gone in search of the mechanical room. Unfortunately, when he arrived, he’d found the door unlocked. From that point on, there was no holding him back. The maintenance staff – no doubt unbeknownst to their supervisors – continued to take shameless advantage of the commander’s willingness to work. He’d unclogged pipes, repaired damaged circuits, soldered, spackled, and performed countless routine tasks. No job was apparently too menial or distasteful. But this was hardly surprising, Luvan thought resignedly. The man was bored. He missed performing the duties of chief engineer on board the Human starship, Enterprise. Given his impatience, his restless nature and his attention span, which lately seemed to be shorter than that of a two-year-old Vulcan child, it was obvious that the commander was ill-suited to a life of inactivity. “There.” Tucker scrambled to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans. “All done.” “You have eleven minutes, Commander.” Tucker broke into a grin. “Then I guess I’d better get a move on.” Bending over, he quickly picked up the tools he’d been using and deposited them in a metal cabinet, which stood near the door leading out of the maintenance room. While the commander showered and changed, Luvan mentally reviewed his security arrangements for the evening. Shortly after his meeting with Vaaris, he had deployed a small, elite team to secure T’Pol’s family home and the surrounding area. Twenty minutes ago, Lieutenant Komas had left the embassy grounds with Commander T’Pol. The officers protecting Ministers Vaaris, Kuvak, and T’Pau had checked in at the appointed times; they were also en route. As an added precaution, Luvan had assigned one officer to covertly monitor communications at the Ministry of Security. That might buy them a little time if the location of the meeting was discovered. He refused to second-guess his personnel assignments; he’d made the logical choices. Besides, at one time or other over the past month, most of these officers had already been entrusted with safeguarding the five people who were responsible for sifting through the voluminous data Minister Speth had collected over the years. Each dossier, each intelligence report had to be carefully studied and dissected, facts checked and rechecked. As soon as there was indisputable proof that someone had a connection, no matter how tenuous, to the Romulan Empire, that individual was ordered to submit to a blood test. Those who were found to have the distinctive Romulan antibody in their blood were quietly taken into custody by the Ministry of Security and interrogated. Some were eventually cleared; others were not. For those treacherous few, incarceration was not an option. The Romulans were ruthless and unrepentant. They did not take prisoners and expected no quarter in return. Luvan still did not approve of the decision to include Tucker in this screening process. Classified information did not belong in the hands of an alien, even one who’d proven that he could hold his tongue. Speth had compiled a great deal of sensitive data on every species – Romulans, Orions, Andorians, Tellarites, Humans, etc. – that threatened the safety and security of Vulcan. Obviously he’d never intended for that data to be viewed by someone like Tucker. And then there were the questions the commander asked all too frequently about the treatment of the accused. This only provided indisputable proof of how dangerously naïve Humans were when it came to dealing with the Romulans. The Romulans had no conception of justice or fair play. They were trained from childhood to identify the weaknesses of their opponents and then exploit them mercilessly. Humans would never accept that. They would try to reason with them, to reform them. No, if Vulcan was going to survive this crisis, Starfleet and the United Earth government must never learn of their efforts to eliminate the Romulan threat. Misguided human compassion combined with a blind commitment to due process could doom them all. Luvan looked up as the bathroom door opened and the commander emerged. Dressed in his uniform, his hair still wet from the shower, Tucker held up two fingers and called across the room, “Two minutes to spare.” Without waiting for a response, he flopped down on the bed and proceeded to put on his shoes and socks. “Didn’t think I’d make it, did ya?” “I am duly impressed.” Luvan walked the short distance to the door and opened it. “Now if you don’t mind, Commander, it is time to go.” “Right.” Tucker slapped his hands against his thighs and got to his feet. “Did T’Pol get off okay? I was so busy with the auxiliary generator that I forgot to ask.” “Everything is going according to plans. Commander T’Pol left with Lieutenant Komas precisely on schedule, a feat we will not be able to match if we do not leave immediately.” “Take it easy. I’m goin’.” Tucker raised a hand placatingly as he walked out the door and started down the hall. Luvan quickly double-checked the jamming device he carried on his person and then followed Tucker. So far he hadn’t discovered any listening equipment, hidden cameras, or other detection devices in the embassy, but he preferred to err on the side of caution. Upon reaching the end of the corridor, Luvan reached over and pressed the call button for the lift. While they waited, Tucker asked, “Have you ever heard of the Uncle Remus Tales?” “No. Should I have?” “Not really. It’s just that they’ve been on my mind lately.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Tucker leaned back against the wall. “My grandma used to read them to me when I was a kid. My favorite character was always Brer Rabbit.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “He was a crafty devil who took great pleasure in outsmarting the likes of Brer Bear and Brer Fox.” Bears and foxes? True to form, the commander’s choice of topics for conversation was certainly unpredictable. “I am sure that Human children find tales of quaint fur bearing creatures entertaining, but Vulcan children prefer stories with more substance, stories which will improve their minds.” “Oh, these stories were plenty educational. Brer Rabbit taught me that intelligence and quick thinking can overcome sheer brute force. That’s been a source of some comfort to me, given that a fair number of the people I’ve met since I left Earth are bigger and nastier than I am.” “I stand corrected.” When the doors opened, the two men entered the lift. “Brer Rabbit taught me something else,” Tucker continued. “Always have a fallback position. You see, whenever he got into trouble, Brer Rabbit would head for this big ol’ briar patch. It was the one place he knew he’d be safe.” Tucker ran his tongue around the inside of one cheek. “I think that’s what the Romulans are doin’ now; they’re headin’ for the briar patch.” Luvan wrinkled his brow slightly as he tried to make the leap from rabbits to Romulans. Tucker seemed to realize almost immediately that further clarification was required. “The intelligence data we’ve been reviewing has made it pretty clear that infiltrators and Romulan sympathizers have been operating at will on your planet for centuries. However, now that the High Council and the Ministry of Security are starting to crack down, those same people are undoubtedly heading for their fallback position, just like Brer Rabbit.” “Hence the briar patch. Yes, I see.” Luvan took a moment to consider the commander’s words. “It is, of course, logical to assume that the Romulans have established an internal security network. Something of that sort would be necessary for their continued survival.” “That’s why I kinda wish your people hadn’t tipped your hand so soon. Once you made the first arrests and started mandatory blood testing, you lost the element of surprise. It’s gonna be a lot harder now to get the goods on the Romulan infiltrators and their Vulcan cronies. It’s a good bet that a lot of vital evidence has already been destroyed.” “So it is your contention that we should have continued to allow these Romulan infiltrators to undermine our government until we had incontestable proof that they were subversives?” “Not necessarily.” The lift doors opened and the two men headed for the lobby. “I’m just sayin’…” Luvan stopped in his tracks. He knew instantly that something was wrong. The lobby was empty except for the security guard at the front desk. At this time of day, there should be a steady stream of people in and out of the building. Looking around quickly, he murmured, “Commander, return to the lift.” With a surprised look on his face, Tucker stared at the major. “What?” “Go back to the lift.” Luvan’s hand moved to his side arm as his eyes continued to scan the corridor. “Now.” “But…” “Keep your hand away from your weapon, Vulcan,” a voice said from behind them. Turning his head in the direction of the voice, Luvan saw two Starfleet officers, phase pistols drawn, step cautiously out of a doorway. At the same time, two other men stepped out from behind two of the large columns that flanked the corridor; both had their phase pistols at the ready. As Luvan slowly raised his right hand, a stocky, middle-aged officer with a balding head reached around behind the Vulcan and carefully removed his sidearm. “What in the hell’s goin’ on!” Tucker took a step forward, but stopped instantly when two of the men raised their weapons menacingly and pointed them straight at his chest. The ranking officer, a tall, well-muscled lieutenant with skin the color of rich mahogany, motioned for them to hold their fire and said, “Starfleet Security. Come with us, Commander Tucker. We have a warrant for your arrest.” “Me?” Dumbfounded, Tucker gaped at the officer. “What am I supposed to have done?” “You’re charged with espionage… “What!” “…and treason.” “Treason!” Tucker desperately searched the faces of the four men, but their expressions gave nothing away. “There’s gotta be some mistake.” “There’s no mistake, sir,” the lieutenant said, as one of the other security men holstered his weapon and roughly cuffed Tucker’s hands behind his back. “The warrant charges you with operating as an agent for the Vulcan government.” To be continued... |
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