The Expanse - J.M. Dillard [75]
Minutes later, Archer was still intently studying the viewscreen, which now revealed drifting debris: scorched chunks of rock, shards of metal, the remnants of what appeared to have been a civilized world.
He dared not let himself believe the obvious. There was something wrong: the debris was too scattered, over too broad an area, to be what he—and everyone else aboard the bridge—hoped. Still standing, gazing up at the screen, he addressed T’Pol. “How long ago did this happen?”
The Vulcan answered quickly; apparently, she too had sensed a discrepancy, and had already done the calculations. “Judging by the field dispersion, approximately one hundred and twenty years.”
Trip was bent over a console, his tone still hopeful, despite T’Pol’s pronouncement. “I’m pretty sure there was a population here, Captain.” He frowned slightly at his readout. “I’m picking up refined metals and traces of alloys ...” He met Archer’s gaze with a pointed look. “Some of them match the hull of the Xindi probe.”
The Captain looked back at the viewscreen, his mood abruptly grim. Whatever this was, it wasn’t the Xindi homeworld; or at least, it hadn’t been for more than a century. Kessick’s last words had been nothing more than another lie. The Xindi had only been on the mining colony a few years, and it was highly doubtful he’d been more than one hundred twenty years old.
This world—whether some Xindi had lived here or not—had been destroyed suddenly, violently. Speculation about what had happened here was pointless; they would only know the truth when they found those responsible for launching the probe.
“They’re building a weapon,” Archer said somberly, “planning to annihilate Earth because they think we’re going to destroy their world in four hundred years. ... How’s that possible if their world doesn’t exist anymore ... hasn’t existed for decades?”
“We know the probe that attacked Earth was built somewhere in this Expanse,” T’Pol remarked, “and it was built recently. It’s logical to assume the new weapon is being developed at the same location.”
“But if it’s not here ...” Trip trailed off, his tone one of frank disappointment.
“Prepare to go to warp four,” the Captain told Mayweather.
The helmsman looked over his shoulder. “What course, sir?”
Archer let go a breath. “We have no choice but to go deeper into the Expanse.”
Reed spoke up; in his voice was a note of concern. “Long-range sensors are showing increasing numbers of spatial distortions ...”
Archer was unmoved. “You heard me, Travis.”
Enterprise turned away from the remnants of the ruined world and trembled slightly as she jumped to warp.
In the Inner Sanctum, the primate-Xindi Degra sat at the great round table with the rest of the members and listened as the reptilian, Guruk, reported the most recent findings concerning the Earth ship.
“They scanned the debris and left,” Guruk said, his forked tongue lingering on each sibilant, “nearly three hours ago.”
As usual, Degra let his aide, Mallora, do most of the talking. “Their heading?” Mallora asked, his tone reflecting the concern Degra also felt. These humans, as they called themselves, were disconcertingly resilient; he had been certain that they would remain captives, mining trellium for the rest of their shortened lives, and was amazed by their escape. Their persistence was most troubling.
“Toward the Orassin distortion fields.”
Guruk’s answer brought sounds and gestures of approval from all ten members. The Orassin fields had great teeth, the ancient saying went, that longed to chew on ships before it spit them out.
The old marsupial Narsanyala nodded his furry gray head, pleased. “Then it’s unlikely they’ll survive.”
Shresht, with typically insectoid agitation, released a series of trilling chirps in such rapid succession that it took Degra a moment to mentally translate. We can’t assume that! I’m sending vessels to destroy them!
Mallora immediately tried to calm the insectoid. “If they are the first wave of an invasion, it would be best for us to remain hidden