Andorians don't have fixed sleep cycles, so when we sleep, we sleep deeply. It takes a while for the nagging warble of my bedside communicator to penetrate the fog and wake me up.
I hit the button on about my third attempt. "Shohl," I mumble.
"Skipper." F'hon's voice. "I've got Vice Admiral Grau on the line for you. Sorry, skipper, but it sounds urgent."
I sit up in bed. "Put her through," I say.
"About time," Ronnie's voice says. Her spell in Orion captivity doesn't seem to have harmed her natural... energy... any. "What the hell have you been doing? Sleeping?"
"Yes," I say.
"Sleep is for tortoises!" I think I'm going to hit her if she says that again. "Now, listen, kiddo, I've just had a tactical alert come in from Starfleet, and we are in trouble with a capital T and a lot of rubble. I reckon you'll be getting confirmation of this in about ten minutes anyway, but I'm giving you and ginger-nut the heads-up first, all right?"
"Ronnie," I say, with as much patience as I can muster, "what the hell is going on?"
"It's not going on, it's breaking loose," says Ronnie. "Sixth Fleet just ran into the Siohonin and got its head handed to it. Gref's missing in action. The Siohonin are advancing on Dioclema Station and there's no earthly reason to think they'll stop there. Got your attention yet? Good. Quinn wants us back at ESD for a top level security briefing. So let's move."
---
Hobbled to the speed of the Tapiola, it takes longer than I'd like to get back to Earth. But we wind up cooling our heels, still, for a day and a half while other "essential personnel" - to quote Admiral Quinn - make it in.
By this time, the news media have got hold of the story, and the rash of Siohonin conquests has been splashed across every holovid station in the Sol System. I can feel the tension rising on the huge station.
When we're finally called in to the meeting, it's almost with a sense of relief - until I see who's in it. Ronnie, T'Pia and I are the most junior ranks present - a distinction we share with one other; T'Laihhae. The Romulan gives me one of her trademark brief flashes of smile, but her eyes are haunted, and there are marks on her forehead as if she's had some kind of hasty surgery.
The others in the briefing room are enough to make anyone worry. Obisek is there, his scarred nightmare of a face dark and brooding; J'mpok is there, and beside him is a silent Klingon in a uniform carefully devoid of insignia - an Imperial Intelligence spook, and possibly a very high up one indeed.
And sitting beside Quinn is a small, dapper figure in civilian clothes, with quiet reptilian calm and lambent golden eyes. Aennik Okeg. If the President of the Federation and the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire are here... things must be getting very bad indeed.
"To begin," says J'mpok. "The Siohonin are - or, rather, were - a minor client species of the Empire. Their rise in rebellion has been sudden, unexpected, and... unwarrantedly successful." He glares around the room. "They are getting highly advanced technical assistance from somewhere. Of that much, we are certain."
The nameless Klingon spook speaks up. "We took the opportunity, when the Siohonin extended their operations into Republic space and threatened their interests, to recruit assistance from Republic Intelligence. Vice Admiral T'Laihhae has recently spent much time among the Siohonin. Her report is... disturbing reading. Vice Admiral, would you care to summarize?"
"I will attempt to." T'Laihhae draws in a deep breath. "Until recently, the Siohonin consisted of a vast bulk of disenfranchised workers, ruled by a tripartite aristocracy - military, administrative, and religious. Until recently. Then, a single cult among the many Siohonin religious factions gained... total ascendancy. They have destroyed all the other religious groups, and have established, in effect, a theocratic state, ruled over by the head of the cult."
She pauses. "It has happened with... shocking speed. A year ago, the cult of Sebreac Tharr was a minor one, a historical anachronism, based on the worship of a fire god that was outdated and absurd even by the standards of the Siohonin. Today, the high priest of Sebreac Tharr is the undisputed ruler of the Siohonin - and their increasingly numerous subject worlds. The explanation -"
She stops. She takes a deep breath. "The explanation is simple, but terrifying in its implications. The cult of Sebreac Tharr has attained its total ascendency because... its god is real."
Everyone stares at her. "What?" J'mpok shouts.
"I am not saying it is a god, in any religious sense," says T'Laihhae. "What I am saying is that the priests of Sebreac Tharr are able to interact with some entity of immense power, and they can request it to perform actions on their behalf. Usually destructive actions," she adds, dryly. "Sebreac Tharr is a god of fire, and most of the so-called miracles performed in his name are related to that quality. The priests can target destructive effects, usually involving combustion or extreme heat, virtually at will. Enteskilen Mur, the new theocratic leader of the Siohonin, apparently incinerated every rival priest in the Dolsulca system, all at once. His subordinates do not, as yet, show such wide-ranging powers... but they can target individuals and destroy them without having line of sight, or any detectable sensor data to locate them. It poses something of a tactical problem in ground combat. The Siohonin are technically inferior, still - we have better guns, but they have... magic wands."
"The problem is equally apparent in space combat," the Klingon spook continues. "Our experiences, and Admiral Gref's ill-fated conflict with a Siohonin fleet, show three massive technical advances on the Siohonin side. Firstly, all their ships are equipped with a devastating kinetic lance that can simply bypass shields. Secondly, any capital ship, or any three frigates acting in concert, can generate a subspace pulse that throws an opponent half a light year away, usually wrecking them completely in the process. Thirdly, the Siohonin capital ships - and, we believe, trios of frigates also - can create a warp mirror effect, inverting a region of space between themselves and an attacker - the attackers, therefore, shoot themselves with their own weapons. This last accounts for the loss of many Klingon capital ships, and the disabling of the USS Taras Bulba in Sixth Fleet's battle with the Siohonin." His voice softens a little. "Admiral Gref fought well in that battle, and it is largely thanks to his efforts that we have this information. But we are, as yet, no nearer to having a counter for these weapons."
"In the meantime," says Quinn, "the Siohonin are advancing on all fronts, and we have to find some way to stop them, before it's too late."
"A suggestion," says Obisek. "And I withdraw it immediately, so as not to offend Federation sensibilities... but if this priest Enteskilen Mur is so central to the Siohonin's sudden expansion, one wonders how they would fare if he were to meet with some fatal accident."
"If it could be arranged," says T'Laihhae. "Enteskilen Mur is defended by the military forces of the Siohonin, and, most likely, by the entity he worships. He is not an easy target."
"OK, hold on." Ronnie speaks up suddenly. "What makes this thing god-like? And how do the Siohonin weapons work? Only thing I can think of - that fits with why we're here - is this." Her pale face is screwed up in concentration. "It can manipulate cosmic forces at any range - heat, subspace, kinetic effects, whatever. The Siohonin weapons must just be, well, channels for this thing. Like, like antennae that can tune in on its power, sort of thing." She shoots a glance at me. "No offence. Second thing is, it gets the uses of this power right. It targets what it wants to target, even though it can't see what it's shooting at. What that suggests to me...." She is speaking very slowly and carefully, now. "… is an entity that can see the outcomes of possible actions before they happen. Like, it knows that a burst of heat here and now means a happy Enteskilen Mur later, and it sends them accordingly. An entity that perceives time and space from an outside perspective. A timeless thing. Like one of the Bajoran Prophets." Her voice turns steely, and she looks straight at Quinn. "Or like the thing from out of the Stygmalian Rift."
Quinn looks at her, steadily, and he nods, slowly, once.
"Is there further activity from the Rift?" T'Pia asks.
"Yes," says Quinn, "and it's increasing. That, and Q's apparent involvement in this, suggests that you three need to be out at the Stygmalian Rift as soon as possible. If it is the source of Sebreac Tharr's power... we need some way to stop it, and you three seem best placed to do that."
He doesn't suggest how. And I have no ideas.
"Something else we must consider." Aennik Okeg's voice is very quiet, but everyone listens to him anyway. "I have received a communication from the Theocracy of the Siohonin. It lists... certain territorial demands. They include the region of space surrounding the Rift."
"Hang on," says Ronnie. "I'm no great shakes at galactography, but, well, isn't the Rift in the old Tellarite sectors? And aren't the Siohonin, well, the other side of 61 Cygni from there?"
"You are quite correct," says Okeg. "Essentially, they are asking for Tellar. And all the Tellarite sectors... but, most importantly to the Federation, Tellar itself." His lipless mouth quirks into a sort of a smile. "In a sense, they are doing us a favour."
"A favour?" snarls J'mpok.
"Oh, yes," says Okeg. "There are always cries and arguments for appeasement, in times of crisis like this... but this is a demand that clearly cannot be met. It leaves us with no alternative. We must fight." His voice drops. "I only hope we can win."
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