The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [99]
“Please, Professor, do not worry yourself with the petty details of interplanetary diplomacy; that is my job.” Chandat studied the flight control console with growing delight. He would gladly forfeit his life for these next few days of space travel. “Now, if you will, the coordinates for this Appointed Place you mentioned.”
With a heavy sigh, Manja unrolled the parchment scroll to display an ancient star map.
Asao Matasu had just closed his eyes when the trill of an intercom hail shattered the serene silence in his cabin.
“My apologies for interrupting your meditation, Admiral,” said his aide’s voice a second later, “but Lieutenant Commander Kiley-Smith said it was urgent; something about a starship that has dropped out of sight and is not responding to any subspace radio hails.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he replied, unfolding his lanky body from the lotus position. “Please meet me at Communications.”
The commander of Starbase 75 walked with a slightly bowed head through the halls of the station. He appeared to be in constant meditation, but the posture was more practical than philosophical; Matasu was a very tall man whose head would brush the ceiling otherwise.
Lieutenant Abell was already waiting for him outside the entrance to the communications complex. She smiled a greeting, and said, “This way, Admiral,” then turned so as to trigger the doors to open.
Matasu ducked his head to follow her over the threshold. His last aide had given up even the pretense of eye contact and had addressed all his comments to the admiral’s stomach. Matasu appreciated Abell’s greater show of courtesy, but hoped she did not suffer unduly from the effort.
Perhaps he would recommend yoga exercises to keep her neck muscles supple, just as he did to counteract the constant strain of looking down.
Once inside, however, the admiral was able to straighten up to his full height. The control room of the communications center was a spacious dome whose curving walls were alight with colorful data displays. Dozens of maps, charts, and graphs tracked the streams of information that moved in and out of Starbase 75 from every point in the sector and many places beyond.
“Still no word from the Enterprise?” asked Matasu.
“No, sir,” said Kiley-Smith as he stepped away from the base-to-ship tracking console. “But now we’ve lost contact with the Plath, a Klingon bird-of-prey, crew complement of twelve.”
The console operator continued the specifics of the briefing. “The starship’s navigator transmitted a coordinate check just after the Enterprise reported the destruction of Starbase 193. Captain Duregh volunteered to assist the Portsmouth with the rescue effort, but then the Plath never arrived.”
Starbase 193 had covered an area that was far beyond the reach of Matasu’s current resources, and the loss of the station blinded him as to what was happening in that sector; he needed eyes to see through the darkness. “Are there any other starships in the area that could investigate this matter?”
Kiley-Smith shook his head. “The Portsmouth and the Clarke are still docked at Luxor IV, but currently both are committed to other missions.”
“I shall see to uncommitting one of them,” said Matasu firmly, but he knew that the diversion would take time to arrange and that even the fastest vessel would require considerable time to cover the distances involved. “Meanwhile, issue an alert to all Starfleet facilities in this quadrant; tell them to be on the lookout for both the Enterprise and the Plath … and their attackers. I will prepare a report for Starfleet Command advising them of the situation.”
“Aye, sir.”
As the admiral headed toward his office, head bowed once again to facilitate his passage through the corridors, Lieutenant Abell echoed his own worried thoughts.
“What’s going on out there, Admiral?
Exploding starbases, missing starships … Could the Romulans be planning a new offensive for the Empire?”
He shook his head. “A warbird is powerful, but I don’t think it could take down two Federation starships in a row.”
Abell accepted the admiral’s assessment