The Last Stand - Brad Ferguson [37]
“I’m curious about one thing, sir,” Riker began. “The Lethanta know the Krann are coming and that they plan to attack. We’ve already seen that the Lethanta are armed to the teeth. So why aren’t they doing anything about the Krann?”
“That’s been bothering me as well, Number One,” replied Picard. “There’s been no response by the Lethanta whatsoever, not even to yesterday’s attack on their government headquarters. I must admit that I admire their restraint, but it is not logical.”
“Perhaps the Lethanta are waiting for the Krann to draw closer before doing anything,” Data said.
“Why would that be, Mr. Data?” Riker asked.
“I do not know, sir,” the android replied. “Perhaps the Lethanta prefer to make a stand closer to their own world.”
“That’s odd,” Riker said. “If you’re going to make a stand, leave yourself some room in which to fall back—even if it’s to be a ‘last stand.’”
“If you’re going to make a stand at all,” Troi said, almost to herself.
“Eh?” Picard said, turning in his seat. “What’s that, Counselor?”
“I’m not sure, Captain,” Troi said, slowly shaking her head. “What Commander Riker just said made me realize something. Nothing I’ve been picking up throughout our meetings with the Lethanta leadership suggests to me that they intend to fight an all-out battle with the Krann.”
“Do you actually believe that the Lethanta are not going to resist the Krann with everything they have?” Worf asked, clearly shocked. “Aside from the disgrace involved, there is the fact that the Lethanta are quite adequately prepared for battle. They have weapons and the people to use them. They apparently have the need and justification to defend themselves against attack. Why would the Lethanta not fight?”
“I don’t know, Worf,” Troi replied. “All I know is what I feel.”
“Is that really what you’re getting from them, Counselor?” Picard asked.
“Yes, Captain. The Lethanta seem—well, it’s almost as if they’re resigned to their fate somehow.”
“Another damned mystery,” Picard groused. “Well, I hope we’ll get some answers from the Krann, forthcoming as they’ve been so far.”
A few hundred million kilometers farther out from Ma’ak Indawe, thousands of delegates to the Fleet Congress watched the main monitor in the Great Hall located at the center of the Krann flagship. The vast monitor occupied the entire wall behind the congressional rostrum. It showed a real-time computer reconstruction of the Enterprise heading straight for the flagship, her white hull aglow with the golden light of the sun astern. The greenish orb of Nem Ma’ak Bratuna was shrinking rapidly behind the ship.
A lone, dark figure walked up to the lectern located at the center of the rostrum, just in front of the monitor screen. A spotlight slammed on, outlining the form of Presider Hek.
“They are coming,” Hek told the delegates in a booming voice that hardly needed amplification, even in that enormous hall. “The alien ship is on a course that will intercept the flight line of this vessel. The aliens will make rendezvous with us in less than an hour.”
“Are they going to attack us?” came a worried voice.
“Probably,” the Presider said.
Hek knew better, of course. He had heard every single hail from the Enterprise over the past day and more, and he had ignored them. Hek knew that this captain, this Jean-Luc, wanted to negotiate, to talk peace—but there was no point in informing the Fleet Congress of that fact. Hek wanted the members of the Congress excited, scared, and apprehensive. Indeed, spurred by this manufactured crisis, the Congress was about to cede to Hek what power remained to it “for the duration”—a duration that Hek and his inner circle knew would be effectively unlimited.
“What can we do to stop them?” asked a delegate. “My ship will fight valiantly, of course, but we’ve all seen the energy readings on this alien craft. Even our entire squadron would be hopelessly outmatched.”
“We’ve also seen this ship wheel about and accelerate without