The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [73]
Yet, if there was a Romulan warbird out there, it would be cloaked and invisible to her eyes.
She shook her head and returned her attention to the communiqu`e. Really, the very notion that there might be Romulans headed for this sector was absurd. Even if Starfleet intelligence was accurate and a warbird had indeed crossed the Neutral Zone, there was nothing of value at Starbase 193 to attract the attention of any enemy of the Federation. Six other sectors had received this routine warning and any one of them was a more likely target.
Tapping her comm insignia, Miyakawa said, “Miyakawa to dockmaster.”
“Ramsey here.”
“Initiate Security One shutdown procedures for all docking operations.”
She was accustomed to immediate obedience from her staff, but Ramsey’s brief silence was understandable under the circumstances.
“What’s going on, Commander?”
“I’m feeling bored today.” She wasn’t ready to explain her decision to anyone yet, not even herself.
“Right. Well, this should liven up everyone’s life. Security One shutdown now in effect.”
Within seconds, the Andorian passenger ship came to a dead stop; maintenance droids scurried away from the freighter, then dove through the closing doors of a cargo bay; and the repair shuttle executed a sharp turn on its hasty return to the station. There would be no more dockings or departures without her express permission, and every crewmember or passenger on shore leave would be automatically recalled to his ship.
The decision to suspend service operations would outrage every captain in the sector; it would disrupt tight flight schedules and inconvenience thousands of passengers and merchants. So before the first wave of irate calls could flood through her office, Miyakawa made a second announcement.
“Attention all starbase personnel.
Security One alert procedures are now in effect. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.”
The scramble to close down shops and return to quarters would keep everyone quiet for at least fifteen minutes. She had that much time to think of an excuse for her actions.
Someone tell me I’m overreacting.
Camenae was just the person for the job, thought Miyakawa ruefully when the bar owner swept into the Starfleet office. Of course, Miyakawa’s open-door policy was not in effect during a security alert, but Camenae was not known for her adherence to station regulations.
“I need to talk to you, Commander.”
If this had been a normal alert, Miyakawa would have had no patience for interruptions, but this time there was no discernible emergency, no further demands on her authority, so there seemed little point in turning Camenae away. “I imagine you’re here to register a complaint from the trade community.”
“No. I was already on my way here.” The woman sat down, leaned her elbows on the desk, and said, “Four twenty-three mark seventy-six mark three sixty-seven.”
Miyakawa puzzled over the sequence. “Those coordinates are in this sector.” She punched the numbers into her viewer padd, then studied the screen image. “However, according to Federation star charts, there’s nothing but a few asteroids at that intersection.”
Camenae shook her head. “One of those asteroids is three kilometers in diameter, large enough to hide Smelter’s Hold in its hollow core.”
“What! Starfleet has been trying to confirm the location of the Hold for years; now you walk in here and give me its coordinates. Why?”
“Because I suspect the outpost no longer exists.”
The commander’s sense of approaching danger grew stronger. “Explain.”
“I had an operative working at the Hold,” Camenae hesitated, then continued with an uncharacteristic revelation, “who was tracking after Reyjad@an.”
“The DiWahn who killed Grede?” It was Miyakawa’s best guess, but she knew better than to expect any confirmation. When Camenae nodded agreement, the commander’s alarm deepened yet again.
Camenae began to talk