What's Past_ The Future Begins (Book 2) - Michael Schuster [29]
The outpost had been established toward the end of the twenty-second century, shortly after the Risian government had agreed to ally itself with the fledgling Federation of Planets that had been founded only a few decades before. The Risians had hoped for an increased influx of visitors to their planet, and they had not been disappointed.
Of course, the structure now orbiting Epsilon Ceti B was not the same one that had been built almost two centuries ago. The station had been overhauled, repaired and upgraded many times, so much so, in fact, that it no longer resembled a dark gray cylinder but a disc with a slightly blue tinge.
EC Outpost, as it was commonly named, featured a breathtaking observation center. Five levels tall, it served as a general recreation area, complete with trees, ponds, lakes, hills, even a river and a waterfall. Ross had asked him to wait at the Littlejohn Monument, a statue of the famous Earth president that had been erected near the central lake. On three sides of the monument, a number of comfortable benches invited passersby to sit down and enjoy the view—and perhaps think about the time of the founding of the Federation, back when Lydia Littlejohn had been Earth’s president.
Those had been bad times, almost as bad as these last few years, Scotty was sure. The Romulans had been the twenty-second century’s Dominion, provoking Earth into a war by means of their minefields and crudely disguised ships. Earth’s wounds from the Xindi attack had just begun to heal when a new threat had made itself known. However, although they were trying to destabilize relations among Earth, Andor, and Tellar, the pointy-eared xenophobes managed to strengthen them instead, which directly led to the foundation of the Federation only a few years later.
The sound of approaching steps on the graveled path behind him disrupted his train of thought, and he turned around to look at the newcomer. It was Ross.
“Good day, Captain Scott,” the much-decorated war veteran said. “Thank you for coming.”
“A good day to you, too, Admiral. Why don’t you take a seat?”
“Oh, I will, don’t worry. I have a lot to talk about with you, and I’d much rather do that with a nice hardwood bench beneath me.”
“A lot, you say? I thought there’s only one thing we need to discuss,” Scotty said, confused. What had Ross planned for this meeting? He mentally prepared himself for the worst and expected dozens of S.C.E. captains looking for new crew members, letters of recommendation to be written, speeches to be given, and all the other tasks that so far had been dutifully fulfilled by Leland T. Lynch.
“One major thing, that is correct,” Ross said, his face once again serious as usual, the welcoming smile of seconds before gone without a trace. “But before we start, let me just show you this.”
Ross held up a small metallic-looking ball between his thumb and forefinger and showed it to Scotty. It was an electronic device, that much was certain, but its function was not as clear. However, Ross had chosen a particularly public spot that, while currently being remarkably devoid of other visitors, still was not as suited for discussions of a very secret subject as both of them would have liked it to be. Most likely, this device’s purpose was to change that. Indeed, it did have some similarity with a com scrambler that Nyota had shown him once, about a century ago, if he wasn’t mistaken.
Ross seemed to read his thoughts. “This here is a little gadget to ensure the privacy of our conversation. Nobody will be able to listen in, so you may talk as freely as you like.”
“That depends,” Scotty said and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest.
“On what?”
“Will you do the same?” he asked and looked Ross in the eyes. Scotty’s level of candidness depended heavily on Ross’s reaction, so he observed intently.
The answer came at once. “Of course I will. I have no reason to lie to you.”
“That’s very good to hear. So, let’s cut to the chase, lad. Why are we both here?”
“I thought that was obvious. I know of your connection