Tuesday, 13 December 2016

The Death House 16

Shalo

The Knobos is a huge ship, but she is dwarfed by the shipyard station - and even by the tangle of debris beside it. Two R-class freighters, colliding at a sharp angle, now with their superstructures inextricably crushed and tangled together... the warp cores are stabilized, at present, but the whole mass will need to be tractored carefully clear of the station and towed to a disposal orbit for breaking and salvage.

Standing beside me on the bridge, Councillor Sarv folds his arms across his chest and stares, brooding, at the screen.

"Well," I say, "at least it is now clear of the docking bays. The IKS Gamak was hardly the only ship to be delayed."

"Every single Imperial courier," Sarv growls. "If this was part of some plot -"

"It would appear not. A regrettable knock-on effect from the explosion at the transporter station. With freight transport suspended, every cargo ship in orbit was delayed... and their captains were in a hurry to resume offloading." I wave a hand at the screen. "An excessive hurry, in this case."

"Pilot error," Sarv grunts.

"We could ascribe it to that. The truth is, though, somewhat more... Klingon. A dispute over right of way, during the approach to docking bay 77-C. Both captains claimed priority based on House status. Neither would back down. The results -" I gesture again at the screen.

"It might still have been a plot. To gain time, to sabotage the Gamak."

"Conceivable. Though it seems inefficient, and expensive." I am glad to have Sarv pursue this train of thought - if he thinks the Council emissary's vessel was sabotaged here in Qo'noS orbit, it diverts his suspicions from Rrueo and R'j at the QarS planetoid. I have no doubt that they are innocent, myself... but innocence is not always an important factor in the High Council's deliberations.

"Perhaps," says Sarv. He turns to face me. "I must return to the shipyard. Accompany me to the transporter room."

Arrogant. I do not let my displeasure show on my face, as I say, "Of course, Councillor," and rise from my command chair.

"So," Sarv says, as we enter the turbolift, "how do you find your new command, General?"

"I have no complaints. Of course, we have yet to see a true test of this ship's abilities - in combat."

"The Ty'gokor class is more than adequate in that area. At least," Sarv adds in barbed tones, "when handled properly."

"I am sure the Knobos will not disappoint," I say. The turbolift doors hiss open. "Transporter room."

Sarv grunts, and strides over to the pad. "Main shipyard receiving," he snaps at the operator.

"Obtaining clearance," the lieutenant says. Sarv shifts restlessly while the necessary clearance codes are exchanged. I sigh inwardly. It would be so easy to joggle the lieutenant's arm and introduce a fatal scanning error... but it would be impolitic to assassinate a High Councillor on the spur of the moment.

"Keep me informed of all your investigations," Sarv orders me. "Energize." And he vanishes in a column of red light.

I turn to the transporter operator myself. "I will travel to First City. Arrange it, immediately." Keep him informed? I will keep J'mpok informed, and let Sarv shift for himself. Not that I have much to show for my investigations, as yet.

---

I make my way to the barracks, to my assigned private quarters, where I can sit, and think, in reasonable security. Aboard ship, I am subject to a thousand well-intentioned interruptions at any moment. Here, I can meditate in peace, and try to put the current events in some sort of order in my mind -

The comms panel flashes and squeals for attention. "I said no calls," I snap at it.

A face appears on the screen, regardless. "You should take this one," says Melani D'ian.

Of course she has override codes for the secure military comms system. Well, she must have a reason for using them.... "What is it?" I ask.

"You are to be brought in for questioning by an aide to the High Council," D'ian tells me.

In spite of myself, I stiffen. "A warrant from the Council?"

"Not yet. A request from the political aide to House K'Vegh." D'ian frowns. "That House was always strongly influenced by a former associate of mine. Yeveus of Zorb. It is conceivable that whoever removed Yeveus has - inherited that influence, somehow. I am puzzled, though. Yeveus was close-mouthed about his sources and his methods."

"But whoever has replaced him... is an enemy."

"To both of us, General. In any case, this request is sufficient to bring you under Council supervision. You may find it convenient to avoid that."

Council supervision could become house arrest, imprisonment, even execution, at a High Councillor's whim. And I am not sure how much J'mpok's influence could protect me - if he even chose to exercise it. "I see. I should thank you for the warning."

D'ian smiles. "You will serve my interests if you seek out Kalevar Thrang. And you cannot do that from inside a First City cell. Act promptly, General." And the screen goes blank.

I think furiously. If D'ian has taken this step, the danger must be imminent. It is clear that someone on the High Council is at odds with us - the business of the Gamak can only be an attempt to discredit our mission, to confuse and muddy the waters. And the only person who would clearly benefit from stopping us is - Kalevar Thrang. Somehow, we must have come close to Thrang. But how? The QarS are a dead end, with the emphasis on dead. Where else have we touched on Thrang's schemes?

While I think, I act, stripping off my KDF uniform, finding an Orion-style top of silk and platinum filigree, and a warrior's skirt of leather strips that fall to mid-thigh. I consider boots, decide to go barefoot. I ready myself.

It is only a few more minutes before the buzzer sounds at the door.

I go to it, and it slides open. Two Klingon enforcers, both male - that will make it easier. They are already looking at me, looking where an Orion costume is meant to make them look -

"General Shalo. Your presence is commanded in the annexe to the Great Hall, by D'Kal of the House of K'Vegh. Your compliance is required."

"Of course," I say, and I make my eyes wide and my voice husky. "But - your associate, there - I fear he has - bad intentions. Protect me, please!"

A naked, transparent, and feeble ploy - if it were not backed up by the full force of my pheromones. People often fail to appreciate how practical Orion clothing is. Bare skin, after all, equates to unimpeded scent glands.

One enforcer growls, draws a d'k tahg, and buries it in his companion's side. That one roars in anguish and pulls out a mek'leth, slashing across his assailant's head. In moments, they are a bloody, fighting tangle on the floor, and I leap over them and take the stairs down to ground level at a run. Perhaps they will kill each other... but, in any case, having two dead Council enforcers in my quarters is a matter that will require explanation.

I take pains to bring my breathing under control as I reach the ground level of the barracks. My heart is pounding, though. The pheromone burst is physically taxing... and that is in addition to my other concerns.

I am not challenged, though my appearance draws a few coarse remarks, as I make my way to the transporter station. The operator on duty gives me no more than a cursory glance as I set up for transport to the Knobos.

Red light surrounds me, and I am aboard my ship. Foojoy is in the transporter room to greet me, and he is taken aback.

"Of surprise, this one feels, at your so soon return," he says.

"We have a possible crisis," I snap as I stride past him to the turbolift. "Bridge."

He does not question me, but comes with me into the lift capsule. Good. I am not in a mood to be questioned. What must come next... requires courage.

The lift doors hiss open, and I stride out onto the bridge. "Ship to alert status," I order. "Helm, request priority departure clearance from traffic control." If I receive it, then the High Council has not yet taken direct action against me. If it is blocked... well, then, things will become interesting.

I sit down in the command chair. My Klingon exec, K'Gan, comes towards me, frowning. I steel myself.

"Priority departure clearance... granted," reports Sano from the helm station.

"Excellent. Engage impulse. Maximum permitted speed along our assigned departure vector."

"General." K'Gan's frown is deepening. "What is happening?"

There is a low hum, and the deckplates tremble, as the Knobos builds up speed. "I find it necessary to depart Qo'noS space." I take a deep breath. "It is likely that I will shortly be proscribed as a fugitive by the High Council. If you choose to challenge for my rank, make it now."

K'Gan stares at me.

"Something has made us - made me - an enemy on the High Council. My intention is to survive this, to find out who that enemy is, unmask him, and destroy him. You may aid me or hinder me, as you choose. But choose now. It will make difficulties, if you change your minds later."

K'Gan pauses for a worryingly long time. He has always been reliable; I would hate to have to kill him. Then he says, "Your... actions have always been honourable in the past, General. I do not believe you have fallen from honour now."

"Honourable, or profitable," Sano murmurs. Well, she is as Orion and as pragmatic as I am myself.

"An enemy of the Empire, our mission is to seek," says Foojoy. "Traitors on the High Council, such an enemy would be in employment of. Unmasking, such traitors, our mission should also be, and not of our commander challenging."

I conceal the relief that washes through me. "Very well. I will rely on you to quell any disaffection which may arise when we are all officially proscribed and become pirates. It will not be for long. I will find whoever is responsible for this - situation - and I will see their blood burn for it."

"Doubting, of this, there is none," says Foojoy.

"Clear of planetary limits," Sano says. "Warp drive at your discretion, sir. Our destination?"

"Set course for the Neutral Zone. Maximum warp. We will reach a temporary safe haven, then rendezvous with General Rrueo and General Bl'k'. They may have more information. Somehow, we have twisted Kalevar Thrang's tail, and he has set his minions on us." I do not repress a snarl. "They will regret that."

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