Disclaimer: I don't own. I don't profit.
Special thanks to beta Note from the Classroom.
Prologue: The Spider & The Fly
The blackness of space spilled out beyond the tiny port hole. For a moment Ayel let himself be lost in it. Let his mind still. His heart calm. He could not let anything be left to chance.
From behind him came the voice of the guard. "Nero will see you now."
Turning smartly on his heels, Ayel made his way through the now-open doorway. He did not acknowledge the guards. He kept his mind focused and his eyes straight ahead.
He found Nero sitting contemplating the same blackness that had just cooled his own thoughts.
"It's almost time," Nero said, not turning to face Ayel.
"It is. That is why I have come to speak with you."
Nero spun in his chair. "Explain."
In his hand Nero held the same spear he'd used to run through Captain Robau's heart so long ago. His fingers fidgeted nervously on the long shaft. There was a reasonable chance that Ayel would face the same fate as Captain Robau every time he entered the room. Nero was quite mad. But he was a useful sort of mad. He was charismatic and inventive. Traits that Ayel did not have. He could never have successfully led the Narada's crew for so long.
What Ayel did have was a calculating mind and the same goal as Nero, though his motivations might be different. Nero wanted revenge for the death of his wife, as though a single Vulcan or even Vulcan itself was responsible for the vagaries of fate. Ayel just wanted to assure that his race was the dominant sentient species in the galaxy. Never again would Romulans be pushed to the brink of extinction.
"My Captain," said Ayel with a bow. "When we acquire the red matter -"
"And Spock!" hissed Nero.
Ayel did not allow the annoyance he felt with Nero's obsession to show. "-and Spock, it would be wise to test our drill and launching mechanism before we attack our first target."
The hand not holding the spear clenched on the arm rest of his command chair. Looking down, Nero said, "Yes. Yes. Nothing must be left to chance."
"Exactly." Licking his lips Ayel said, "I have found the perfect target. Delta-A 930; it is seismically active, at the edge of Romulan space, and light years from any sentient habitation. If our activities are noticed they will be interpreted as a natural event."
"Delta-A 930 is laced with latinum mines," spat Nero.
Ayel tilted his head and smiled. "The presence of latinum on Delta-A 930 will not be discovered for another fifty years."
Nero fingered the hilt of his spear. "It will never be discovered. We will destroy it when we test the red matter. As we agreed...nothing must be left to chance."
Ayel blinked in surprise. Destruction was unnecessary. The quantity of red matter needed to destroy Vulcan could easily be calculated. And it would endanger the secrecy they had so carefully maintained all these long years. He swallowed. Stealing ships for parts, food and fuel was one thing. "That would be unwise. The destruction of an entire planet would be noticed...in time..."
Standing from his chair Nero banged his spear butt on the rough metal flooring plates. "By the time it is noticed it will be too late!"
Ayel stared at Nero. The captain tilted his head at him. If Ayel valued his life there would be no arguing now.
"Delta-A 930 will be destroyed as soon as we possess the red matter," said Ayel.
"And Spock..." said Nero in a low voice.
"And Ambassador Spock,"
x x x x
Standing up from his chair at the massive wooden table conference table, Golarth glared at the Federation members. His fellow Klingons rose with him. Federation Guards around the room lifted their phasers from their holsters. His men prepared to do the same but Golarth held out his arm. His men stilled. Had any raised so much as a finger, Golarth would have seen to it the finger and the arm attached to it were removed as well.
His bones ached, and his heart strained, but he spat on the Starfleet insignia emblazoned in the table surface as any young warrior would. Normally Golarth found his species' reputation as the mental laggards of the galaxy an advantage. It made it easier to outwit his enemies. Now it made him furious. He was too old for these games.
Eyeing the Tellurite, Vulcan, Human and Andorian delegates, Golarth let out a bellow. "You ask for talks, you ask for cooperation, I give you what we know of the disappearing vessels and you deride it as impossible!"
"We do not deride," said the Vulcan-bitch T'Quilloc. Her telepathic mind-raper mate was not allowed in these proceedings. Golarth had not requested the absence of the Gray Guard - there would have been no point. Novasch had already slipped into his skull. Which meant the Federation members had. They were keeping secrets from each other. This did not bode well.
T'Quilloc continued in calm, even tones. "We observe that it is highly unlikely that the mysterious disappearances of ships in the neutral zone is the work of an independent agent. Their technology is too sophisticated for -"
"Only a small group, bonded by honor, could keep their identity a secret for decades. This is not the work of a bloated bureaucracy!" Golarth hissed.
"That is your opinion, and we respect it greatly," said the human Admiral Barrett. "But the agents causing chaos in the Neutral Zone seemingly possess technology more advanced than any known sentient species. Their ships move too fast. They've been completely able to avoid our sensors. It is inconceivable that a group of renegades would have the resources to develop this advanced technology on their-"
"The Romulans at Epsilon 1235 did not let themselves be captured alive, and they all shared the same unusual tribal markings!" said Golarth.
"Coincidence," said an Andorian commander tilting his head. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if the Romulan Empire is behind this. They and the Cardiassians notably did not join us here."
T'Quilloc tilted her head. "Our intelligence on the Romulans and Cardassians informs us with 94.97% accuracy that they are not behind this mystery. Which leaves an unknown third party, a race we have not -"
"There is no mystery race," said Golarth. "I have given you your third party!" With a cry of rage he brought a fist down onto the conference table.
It was only cunning that kept Golarth alive among his kind - among them he was slightly enfeebled by age. He was not prepared for how strong he was among these weaker races. The table cracked and split right through the Starfleet insignia.
All the Andorians jumped to their feet. The humans, Vulcans, and Tellurites remained sitting-the Tellurites perhaps in fear.
"Escort our Klingon guests from the premises," said Admiral Barret.
"More glory for us," hissed Golarth's second in command Warloff.
Golarth snorted. But not in agreement. Death was honorable. But not in defeat.
A/N:
I needed to catch readers up with what was going on in the Descartes Universe. I kind of like Golarth. He's sort of a tragic hero. His manners hide his intelligence, poor old Klingon man.
Nyota and Spock's circumstances will be revealed in the next chapter...which I'm publishing RIGHT NOW since I know people can't wait.
If you enjoyed, please leave a review.