Chapter Nine
The Zhegn He hung nose to nose with the Romulan warbird, the SSeikea. There was minimal damage that testified to the violent encounter the warbird had just been through. Soji's synthetic vision picked up miniscule amounts of hyperonic residue on the ship's hull. She mentioned this and Riker asked his science officer to adjust the ship's scanners to confirm.
"Good eyes," he complimented her when they found the traces, "Any idea what would cause that?"
Soji shook her head, "It could be innocuous or it could be a new weapon," she told him. Riker hoped it was the former but more analysis was needed to solve that mystery. Riker assigned his engineering team to study it. If the Romulans had a new weapon, Starfleet needed to know about it.
"Can I join them?" Soji asked. Vashti was a sad place for her and she didn't want to join Picard on the surface.
"That's a great idea," Riker told chief engineer, a woman named Claretta D'angelo to expect Soji in engineering. Then he asked his communications officer to hail the Romulan ship.
"Greetings!" Riker said in a friendly tone, "I'm Admiral Riker of the Zheng He and this is Admiral Jean Luc Picard, retired. We understand that you may have encountered some difficulties. Do you require any assistance?"
"Thank you, Admirals," Plutarch's expression gave Riker the impression he was a remorseless cat who had just gotten into the birdcage, "We do not require assistance. May I suggest that Admiral Picard and I transport to the surface to finish negotiations?"
Riker cut the comm and turned to Picard, "He doesn't waste time does he?"
"I suppose not," was Picard's response. He tried to take the measure of Enid's father. Unlike the many Romulan commanders he'd met in his time in Starfleet, Plutarch's regard conveyed no suspicion of or distaste for humans. No, Plutach looked very much like the type of man who fears no one therefore could be friendly to anyone. "I look forward to meeting you in person," Picard said after Riker restored the comm, "Do you have a specific location in mind?"
"I understand the Qowat Milat has a home on Vashti," Plutarch smiled broadly, "Let us meet there in two hour's time?" Picard was not surprised by the answer. "I would like to see the XB first of course." Riker had Ramdha in his observation lounge and signaled for her to be brought out.
"I would like to see your Zaht Vash operative," Picard demanded.
"Yes, well," Plutarch drawled, "The aforementioned difficulties unfortunately deprived me of my original bargaining chip." Plutarch's hand flew up before Picard to form a protest, "I did not come empty handed." Picard and Riker exchanged knowing looks. Just like a Romulan to change the deal before the negotiations were even started.
"I'm listening," Picard said cautiously.
"I assure you what I have is much more valuable," Plutarch's eyes narrowed but otherwise his countenance was unchanged, "I will only discuss in person."
Picard considered a moment then answered, "I will see you on the surface."
"One more thing," Plutarch said before the channel was closed, "I have supplies for the Romulans on Vashti."
"What sort of supplies?" Riker was now very suspicious. No one from the Romulan government had so much as asked about the refugees in well over a decade.
"Replicators mostly," Plutarch told them, "And some comforts from home." Riker agreed to let him transport down supplies and the two men left the details to their first officers.
Soji followed the bridge officer to the engineering department where he introduced him to the chief engineer, a woman named Claretta, "Just call me Clare," she told her, "This is my right hand, Noah Magel." Soji shook hands with both. Clare looked young for a chief engineer but Soji often found that organics didn't age in a consistent manner. Usually they were younger or older than she guessed and as some took offence when she was wrong so she stopped trying. Noah had an athletic build, dark hair, carmel skin, warm eyes and an easy smile. They discussed what natural phenomena could cause the readings they were getting off the Romulan ship. They determined there were no natural causes that could account for the trace levels of hyperonic radiation unless of course the Sseikea had flown through a comet that collided with a star.
"There would be more than traces in that case," Noah declared.
"There would be no Sseikea!" Soji told them. They laughed, obviously there was no natural way to explain the phenomena. It had to be from the battle, but most known weapons did not work in the presence of hyperonic radiation.
"It must be some sort of new weapon," Clare knit her brows together, "Did the weapon discharge the radiation or was it an after effect?"
"After effect," Noah suggested. He couldn't imagine anyone using that kind of weapon, "It would kill too slowly."
"What we witnessed was intense," Clare agreed, "I wonder if there is any danger to the Romulans?"
Who cares? Soji found herself thinking but stopped herself from verbalizing. She had come a long way from destroying all organic life but charity towards Romulans was asking a bit much. She listened to the engineers discuss the possibility that the new Romulan weapon might backfire on them if the radiation built up over time. They poured over the sensor readings from the firefight fight. There were so many unknowns. How could they make that determination and if they did, would the Romulans believe them? Clare and Noah seemed genuinely concerned for the welfare of their long time enemy. Mars was still on fire and these Starfleet officers were worried that the Romulans might have opened a pandora's box with their new weapon.
Plutarch transported to the surface of Vashti ahead of Picard to meet with the Romulan refugees and distribute the supplies. The contrast between Vashti and Surruk was not lost on him. These were Romulans and they had been forced to survive on the good will of their long time adversary and it didn't look as though there was much good will to go around. He spent the time talking with leaders of the community. Many were angry that no one had advocated for them before now, some were grateful for the consideration. He discovered it was the Qowat Milat that kept the peace. He was quite down trodden by the time he worked his way down to the house of the Qowat Milat.
Zani greeted him with her hands held out as though she were holding an open book. Enid had taught him some sign language during their lunches at Audit Ei'krih and Zani's gesture reminded him of sign for finished. The sign started as the open book gesture then ended with bringing the hands together as if closing the book.
"The years have been kind to you, Zani," he told her, smiling more than he felt.
"I might remind you," Zani's eyes were laughing at him, "This is a house of truth."
"Out of respect, I will only utter the truth in this house," he told her. He presented her with a gift. A box of brightly colored candy squares.
"You remember," she said, "Thank you, it has been a long time."
"As if I could forget," Plutarch said softly, "Thank you for your kindness towards my daughter."
"She is an easy girl to be kind to," Zani studied her former lover's face. He looked worn by care. This is not how she remembered him. The Plutarch she knew was unflappable. "How is Enid?" Zani asked.
"She is well, thank you," Plutarch briefly told her of his daughter's life at Audit Ei'krih. How she formed close relationships with her young cousins, "She is coaching Ji'aella in gymnastics. They just had a successful meet." As he spoke, Zani noted the change in his visage.
"You love your daughter," she observed.
"She is an easy girl to love," Plutarch mirrored Zani's words.
"She has strength in adversity," Zani said, "There were some who speculated that the Tal Shiar sought to exploit her."
Plutarch stiffened, "Perhaps they did," he admitted, then remembered something Narek had told Ni'ael, "She can not be manipulated easily."
"I imagine not," Zani thought that was an accurate assessment. The girl had slipped under the nun's noses to bring the confrontation with the synths to the mountains. If she had stayed with the Qowat Milat, Zani reasoned the girl would be dead. The synths had not even given them a chance to fight. Enid had a strong survival instinct.
"I wish I could give her an answer about A'den," Plutarch furrowed his brows, "Did the boy say anything to you?"
"No, he did not," Zanie wished she could help more.
"Did you observe anything? Something that would speak to his motives?" Zani sensed a small amount of desperation in Plutarch's voice as he spoke. He was no longer the spoiled boy she grew up with, or the cocky young man she once loved in spite of herself.
"I can not speak to the motives of radicals," she told him. He burst into laughter.
"But you are a radical," he accused with a smile. This was closer to the Plutarch she knew.
"The replicators that you brought are very welcome," Zani changed the subject.
"I wish I could have wrangled an industrial replicator, but they are hard to come by," he looked out towards the mountains, "Have you hiked in those mountains?" He and Zani used to enjoy vigorous hikes in the mountains around Audit Ei'krih.
"No," she told him, "Surruk has no industrial replicators?" Plutarch shook his head, "My what difficulties the elites must have faced. Next you will tell me that the Indigonites no longer provide the hard labor that makes your lives possible."
Plutarch rolled his eyes, "This is an old argument Zani…"
"And one worth having," she interrupted him.
"You could have stayed and made that argument," Plutarch's eyes were steely and set but his mouth betrayed amusement, "But you didn't. Do not profess to care now, after so many years of silence." He was not going to allow himself to be shamed by Zani.
"One can not float with rocks in one's pockets," Zani told him.
Again Plutarch laughed, "More like boulders," he admitted, "I did not come here to rehash old arguments. I plan to take those who wish it away from here."
"To Surruk?" Zani asked for clarification. She was skeptical that Plutarch would allow the rough refugees of Vashti into the heart of elite culture.
"You would be welcomed home," he countered without answering her question.
"A house of truth on Surruk?" Zani laughed at the irony.
"I said you," Plutarch told her, "Not the Qowat Milat!" Plutarch was grateful for Zani's kindness towards Enid, and her service in general to the Romulan refugees, but any thought of rekindling their relationship was past. The two would part friends but nothing more. Picard and Riker had arrived and Plutarch could see their outlines through the curtains in the great room. He moved to join them.
Picard couldn't help but overhear Zani's conversation with her old flame in the house without walls. His hearing, while not as acute as Soji's was, was still much better than it had been when he was flesh and blood. Plutarch shook Picard's hand and confirmed his daughter's ability to hear synthetics did not come from him. When he shook Riker's hand he had to struggle to maintain his composure. The surviving synthetic was on its way to kill Enid, and La Serina had been sent to intercept it! He would have to warn Ni'ael. Security on Surruk was alway a priority and Ni'ael had increased measures at Audit Ei'krih but he was anticipating an attack from Oh, not a rogue synthetic. Narek would have a better idea of how to protech Enid, he thought.
"You said you had something of interest to us?" Riker said, sounding perturbed. Plutarch understood what moved the man. People often reacted with hostility when their mind had been probed without their consent. He told himself it was different from what the Order had done to Enid. Plutarch passively gathered information from the top of the Admiral's mind. He hadn't gone digging. Besides, the treacherous Federation was protecting their precious synthetics. They criticized Romulans for practicing slavery but had no problems constructing beings for servitude. The hypocrisy angered Plutarch but he controlled it. He had to, Enid was in danger. He took comfort in knowing that Narek and Ni'ael were capable men. His daughter too had proven to be dangerous herself. She would be fine, he told himself, but he needed to warn her.
"Yes," Plutarch fought to clear his head, "I have the locations of the synthetic traps in Federation space."
"How do you know?" Picard asked urgently. He had not expected this. Federation authorities had been working on it since the catastrophe on Kiara.
"Enid had the information," Plutarch was purposely vague. He judged that they would be prejudiced against the intelligence if he knew that Narek was behind it. We've identified eight systems within Federation boundaries that have traps. We believe that the introduction of synthetic labor will trigger events such as you saw on Kiara." Plutarch could tell his information was of interest to the men.
"How do we know this is accurate?" Picard asked.
"I will provide you with the coordinates of one of the systems. You can investigate it." This was a gamble, if they could not detect the trap or if the information was wrong, the deal would be off, but Plutarch believed in Enid and Narek.
"You should just give this information to us," Riker argued, "Aren't you afraid of Gamadon?" Plutarch marveled how sensitive this man was to telepathic influence! Wasn't he married to a Betazoid?
"I believe I am negotiating with Picard," Plutarch locked his steel blue eyes on Riker until the man shifted his position, "I am asking for a very small consideration."
"Why is Ramdha so important to you?" Picard was more curious than anything. He agreed with Plutarch it was a small consideration for the information he was offering.
"That is my business," Plutarch told him, "She is of no value to you."
"Very well," Picard nodded, "We will take one of the coordinates and check it out."
"I will transmit them to the Zhegn He," Plutarch told him, "We are not sure how to detect the synthetic presence. Afterall, Kiara was cleared for habitation and people lived there for nearly five decades." Plutarch thought for a moment, "I would not recommend that you or the other synthetic traveling with you to go to the planet's surface."
"Quite right. Would you be willing to accompany us in investigating the site?" Picard proposed, "Maybe working together we can find a way to verify the presence of a trap." Plutarch agreed but wanted to take his own ship.
"NO!" Riker's reaction surprised Picard. What had gotten into his former number one?
"We've made some progress here," Picard suggested, "The Synthetic Alliance is of concern to both our peoples. Why don't we pause for a few hours to consider our options." Plutarch agreed. He wanted to get back to the ship. He thanked Zani for her hospitality and left Picard and Ricker with the nuns.
"That is outrageous!" Ni'ael paced. He and Narek were on the terrace overlooking the south lawn. Narek was listening but also watching Enid and her cousins playing takart with Igan while twisting the rows of a tan zhekran. A takart was a small soft ball that the player bounced on their feet or head. A foul was called if the player touched the ball with any other part of their body. The game could be played in teams but it looked like Igan was conducting a beginners workshop. Enid's arm was feeling much better, Narek could feel it. She had told him that she wasn't really aware of how bad her arm hurt was until it didn't. The relief of that pain was liberating.
"We should let Enid know," Narek said reluctantly. He didn't want to, but she had to know. She could assist in her own protection. Enid was picking up on Llark-aer'rl quickly. "There are upgrades we can make to our security net," he suggested.
"Is there a way to detect the synthetics?" Plutarch asked.
"Sutra and the other synths were not as advanced as Soji," Narek twisted a row, and thought for a moment, "Cailem took discrete scans of the synthetic heads as Soji was collecting them. Maybe there is something there." He hoped there was something usable from Caliums
"Good," Plutarch felt better, "I want updates every 8 hours." He returned to the bridge of the Sseikea where Torcuil was working on isolating the cause of the hyperonic radiation. While it was unexpected, the levels of radiation did not pose a threat to life or the operation of the ship. Still, Torcuil was a cautious man and advocated taking the device offline until he could isolate the cause. He told Plutarch that the device could be brought on line within minutes if the need arose. Plutarch ordered him to coordinate with the other ships who were involved in the confrontation and find out if they were experiencing similar readings. Confident that everything was under control, he returned to the surface of Vashti, bringing a flask of kali-fal and some shot glasses with him this time. If Riker had not recovered from Plutarch's telepathic intrusion, the kali-fal might help. Plutarch prided himself on being able to casually read a person without their knowledge and Riker's reaction was puzzling to him although he admitted that his experience with humans was minimal. His past encounters with humans had been fleeting and he had not stuck around to judge how well the subjects dealt with the process.
Picard confronted Riker about his oppositional behavior towards Plutarch. "I don't know Jean Luc," Riker told him, "I just don't like the man."
"If he has a map of the synthetic traps, then we need that information," Picard looked out towards the mountains and wondered again what had occurred between Elnor and Enid that day. He put his musings aside. That was a problem for another time. Right now he had to stay focused on the situation at hand.
"But why not just give us the information?" Riker persisted, "Why barter like a Ferengi?"
"It is a face saving maneuver," Picard offered after some thought, "Romulans are a proud people. He is an elite and can't be seen as cooperating with the Federation."
"Two years ago they wanted to wipe out synthetic life. Now they want to help us dismantle synthetic traps?"
"The Synthetic Alliance is a threat to all organic life," Picard reminded him, "A typical Romulan would plan a clandestine operation to destroy the traps or step up their efforts to exterminate the synths. We are fortunate that Plutarch is willing to share the information with us."
"Why change tactics now?" Riker knew his former captain was correct. Something about Plutarch rubbed him the wrong way, but the man had done nothing he could think of to warrant this feeling.
"Lack of resources," Picard thought that sounded right, "Plutarch admitted to Zani that elites did not have access to an industrial replicator. That had to be hard for him." Their conversation was cut short. Plutarch was walking up the road towards him. He had two guards and a case slung over his shoulder.
"Good afternoon!" He greeted them, "I thought we might share a drink. That is unless you don't trust me," Plutarch flashed a mischievous grin, "I do not believe kali-fal is common in the Federation although I have learned from my daughter that Romulan ale is easier to come by than authorities would care to admit." The embargo had been a sore spot between the two governments before the supernova. Enid bartered drawings at the station for ale to share at summer bonfires on Kiara. She attributed Rone's first kiss to the substance. Enid could draw from people's memories and some paid to recapture a moment with a lost loved one. Picard and Riker agreed to give the liquor a try and Plutarch instructed them on how to achieve the best experience. Kali-fal should be enjoyed aromatically first, then consumed. The substance had the desired effect, Riker appeared much less hostile after he drained the shot glass. The sticking point in the negotiations was the travel arrangements to the first site. Plutarch did not wish to give the Federation two hostages and Riker could not approve passage for a Romulan ship to pass through Federation space.
It was Picard who cut to the chase, "We detected low levels of hyperonic radiation on your hull," he admitted, "We are concerned that you may be outfitted with a new weapon."
"We detected the same," Plutarch admitted, "And are investigating the findings." Zani would consider this a lie, he knew, but he didn't. It was linked to the warp bubble but they did not know how.
"So you don't know the cause?" Riker sounded skeptical.
"We do not," he assured them. To Plutarch's relief the ploy worked and Riker reluctantly gave him permission to follow in his ship. He had no hostile intentions towards the Federation, but could not allow himself to be distanced from his home knowing the synths were still a threat to Enid. He needed to react as the situation unfolded and couldn't do that from a Federation ship.
Picard wanted to talk to Zani before he left so he stayed while Riker returned to his ship.
"So," he asked, "Has your assessment of Plutarch changed?"
"He is older, less...," Zani thought about it, "He is more measured than he once was, but still arrogant." That could be said for most Romulans despite the difficulties since the supernova, "Plutarch looks after his own," she concluded. Yes, Plutarch still championed the causes of the elite.
"And you take care of the vulnerable," Picard said. Zani's expression confirmed what he had been thinking. That had been the split, or at least part of the split, "He is offering to help the people here, and the information he brought us is valuable."
"There is something in it for him. Something that furthers the interests of the elites," Zani smiled, "You can be sure of that." Picard took note of Zani's assessment. "There is one more thing you should be aware of…"
"Yes," Picard welcomed any information that would make working with the man easier.
"Plutarch is an adept telepath," she told him. Picard had heard that telepaths were usually conscripted into the Tal Shiar but Zani assured him that was not true of those born to the kind of privilege that Plutarch's family enjoyed. His status protected him.
"So Enid would be protected?" Picard queried, "She would not be a target?" Zani postulated that there would be those who would target her because of her hybrid status but if Plutarch wished to shield her, it would be unlikely any would succeed. The supernova had hit the Romulan class system hard but Zani assured Picard that Plutarch's objective was to preserve his way of life and the power of the elite. Picard appreciated this insight into Plutarch's motives. Aboard the Zhegn He, he wished that he had asked more about Surruk.
Both ships laid in a course for the planet that held the synthetic trap. While the system did not boast an M-class planet there were signs that a civilization had existed on one small world before the atmosphere apparently had burned off. Plutarch sent Torcuil and a science officer to the planet surface in environmental suites. The Zhegn He sent Claretta and another officer. They transported to a clearing in what appeared to be once a population center. Plutarch watched the feed from the bridge Sseikea as did Riker, Picard and Soji from the bridge of the Zhegn He. The steel frameworks of what might have been skyscrapers lay twisted and broken across an empty street. There was no encroachment of vegetation that would be expected from an abandoned metropolitan area. The feed panned to the horizon. The planet's sun appeared as a yellow spot in the black sky and a nearby planet shone blue as the sun reflected off its atmosphere. Torcuil climbed one of the twisted masses. From there he could see the vastness of the destruction. The wasteland of twisted metal eventually gave way to countless stone spires reminiscent of a forest.
"Over there!" Torcuil pointed to a sprawling mass of metal twisted around a central pod. The team worked their way over to the artifact.
"That looks like a spider," Claretta commented. She had heard spiders had attacked Kiara. A directed energy wave had crippled the creatures. The technology behind the wave was still under investigation but if it had been used here, it was long enough ago to be indetectable. From the readings Claretta was getting she could only think of one devastating conclusion, "They set fire to their atmosphere," she said solemnly. Outside the city limits, they came to a cliff from which they could look down over a wide expanse of burnt landscape. Crippled spiders lay as far as the eye could see. In the center of the clearing was a twisted melted structure. They were transported from their current position to the foot of the structure.
"It looks like a beacon," Torcuil observed, "Whoever these people were, they knew they were going to lose."
"Yes," Claretta agreed, "They set their atmosphere on fire to keep the synthetics from calling in reinforcements."
Torcuil touched the fingers of his right hand to his forehead, to his lips, then to his heart. "They sacrificed their world to save all organic life."