Dark Allies

  The lift's titanium panels slid apart sooner than he had expected, revealing a short corridor shared by five black doors. Dane knew enough about Command protocol to figure out which one he wanted.

  Advancing to the farthest of the doors, he touched the pad set into the bulkhead beside it. Inside, where he couldn't hear it, a chime was sounding, alerting the officer within that he had company.

  With a rush of air, the door moved aside. Beyond it stood a broad-shouldered man in a black and gold admiral's uniform, his hair whiter than Dane remembered it.

  Big Ed Walker's eyes narrowed beneath bushy brows. "Connor," he said. He indicated a chair in his anteroom. "Come on in."

  Dane took the seat. Then he eyed the admiral. "I'm glad you recognize me, Uncle Ed. For a moment there, I thought you were confusing me with someone who had some ambition to be a Starfleet captain."

  Walker chuckled drily as he pulled up a chair across from his nephew. "Funny, son. But then, you always did have a lively sense of humor."

  "I'm glad I amuse you," said Dane. "But I didn't come here to crack jokes, Uncle Ed. I came to find out how my hat got thrown in the ring. I mean, you and I haven't exactly been close for a good many years now, so I know it wasn't a case of nepotism."

  The admiral nodded reasonably. "That's true, Connor. But then, you can't call that my fault, can you? You were the one who chose to leave the service and strike out on your own."

  "I had no desire to be a military man," Dane tossed back. "No one seemed to believe that."

  Walker smiled grimly. "I still don't. What you accomplished during the war, the reputation you earned yourself… that just proves you had it in you all along. You're a born officer, son, a natural leader—"

  "So are dozens of other space jockeys," Dane pointed out, "guys who'd give their right arms to join your star fleet. But you picked me instead." He leaned forward in his chair, deadly serious. "So tell me… what's the deal, Uncle Ed?"

  Alonis Cobaryn grunted softly to himself as he studied the scale hologram of theDaedalus- class prototype. Somehow, the two-meter-long hologram had looked more impressive in the darkened briefing room where he had seen it the day before.

  Here at the center of Earth Command's primary conference room, a grand, solemn amphitheater with gray seats cascading toward a central stage from every side, the hologram seemed small and insignificant. And with two dozen grim, lab-coated engineers occupying a scattering of those seats, already making notes in their handheld computer pads, the Rigelian had to admit he was feeling a little insignificant himself.

  He saw no hint of that insecurity in the other captains standing alongside him. But then, Hagedorn, Stiles and Matsura were used to the soberness of Earth Command environments and engineers. And while neither Shumar nor Dane could make that claim, they were at least Earthmen.

  Of all those present, Cobaryn was the only alien. And while no one in the facility had done anything to underline that fact, he still couldn't help but be aware of it.

  For some time, the Rigelian had been fascinated by other species. He had done his best to act and even think like some of them. However, after having spent an entire day on Earth, he was beginning to wonder if he could ever live as one of them.

  Abruptly, Cobaryn's thoughts were interrupted by a loud hiss. Turning, he saw the doors to the amphitheater slide open and produce the slender form of Starfleet Director Abute.

  As the dark-skinned man crossed the room, the engineers looked up from their pads and gave him their attention. No surprise there, the Rigelian reflected, considering Abute was their superior.

  "Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen," the director told the lab-coated assemblage, his voice echoing almost raucously from wall to wall. "As you know, I have asked the six men who are to serve as captains in our new fleet to critique your work on theDaedalus. I trust you'll listen closely to what they have to say."

  There was a murmur of assent. However, Cobaryn thought he heard an undertone of resentment in it. Very possibly, he mused, these engineers believed they had already designed the ultimate starship—and that this session was a waste of time.

  However, Abute disagreed, or he wouldn't have called this meeting. The Rigelian found himself grateful for that point of view, considering he was one of the individuals who would have to test the engineers' design.

  The director turned to Matsura. "Captain?" he said. "Would you care to get the ball rolling?"

  "I'd be happy to," said Matsura. He took a step closer to the hologram and pressed the flats of his hands together.

  "Let's talk about scanners."

  It seemed like a reasonable subject to Cobaryn. After all, he had some opinions of his own on the matter.

  Matsura pointed to a spot on the front of the ship. "Without a doubt, the long-range scanners that have been incorporated into theDaedalus are a big improvement over what we've got. But we can go a step further."

  Abute seemed interested. "How?"

  "We can devote more of our scanner resources to longrange use," Matsura answered. "That would allow us to identify threats to Earth and her allies with greater accuracy."

  The engineers nodded and made notes in their pads. However, before they got very far, someone else spoke up.

  "The problem," said Shumar, "is that additional longrange scanners means fewer short-range scanners—and we need that short-range equipment to obtain better analyses of planetary surfaces."

  Cobaryn couldn't help but agree. Like his colleague, he was reluctant to give up any of the advantages Abute had described the day before.

  Matsura, on the other hand, seemed to feel otherwise. "With due respect," he told Shumar, "you're equating expedience with necessity. It would be nice to be able to get more information on a planet from orbit. But if we could detect a hostile force a fraction of a light-year further away… who knows how many Federation lives might be saved some day?"

  Shumar smiled. "That's fine in theory, Captain. But as we all know, science saves lives as well—and I think you would have to admit, there's also a tactical advantage to knowing the worlds in our part of space."

  Matsura smiled too, if a bit more tightly. "Some," he conceded. "But I assure you, it pales beside the prospect of advance warning."

  Cobaryn saw the engineers trade glances. Clearly, they hadn't expected this kind of exchange between two captains.

  Abute frowned. "Perhaps we can table this topic for the moment." He turned to the engineers. "Or better yet, let's see if there is a way to increase both long and short-range scanning capabilities."

  Grumbling a little, the men and women in the lab coats made their notes. Then they looked up again.

  The director turned to the Rigelian. "Captain Cobaryn? Can you provide us with something a bit less controversial?"

  That got a few chuckles out of the engineers, but not many. They seemed to the Rigelian to be a rather humorless lot.

  As Matsura stepped away from the hologram, looking less than pleased, Cobaryn approached it. Glancing at the crowd of engineers to make sure they were listening, he indicated the hologram's warp nacelles.

  "While I am impressed," he said, "with the enhancements made in theDaedalus's propulsion system, I believe we may have placed undue emphasis on flight speed."

  Abute looked at the Rigelian, his brow creased. "You mean you have no interest in proceeding at warp three?" His comment was met with a ripple of laughter from the gallery. Cobaryn did his best to ignore it.

  "In fact," he replied diplomatically, "I haveevery interest in it. However, it might be more useful to design our engines with range in mind, rather than velocity. By prolonging our vessel's ability to remain in subspace, we will actually arrive at many destinations more quickly—even though we have progressed at a somewhat slower rate of speed.

  "What's more," he continued, "by shifting our emphasis as I suggest, we will be able to extend the scope of our operations… survey solar systems it would not otherwise have been practical to visit."

&nb
sp; Stiles chuckled. "Spoken like a true explorer," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

  Cobaryn looked back at the man. "But Iam an explorer," he replied.

  "Not anymore," Stiles insisted. "You're a starship captain. You've got more to worry about than charts and mineral analyses."

  Abute turned to him. "I take it you have an objection to Captain Cobaryn's position?" he asked a little tiredly.

  "Damned right I do," said Stiles. He eyed the Rigelian.

  "Captain Cobaryn is ignoring the fact that most missions don't involve long trips. They depend on short, quick jumps—at ranges already within our grasp."

  "Perhaps that is true now," Cobaryn conceded. "However, the scope of our operations is bound to grow. We need to range further afield for tactical purposes as well as scientific ones."

  Stiles looked unimpressed with the argument. So did Hagedorn and Matsura. However, Stiles was the one who answered him.

  "We can worry about the future when it comes," he advised. "Right now, more speed is just what the doctor ordered."

  There was silence for a moment. Without meaning to do so, the Rigelian had done exactly what Abute had asked him not to do. Like Matsura, he had become embroiled in a controversy.

  "Thank you, gentlemen," the director said pointedly. "I appreciate the opportunity to hear both your points of view."

  Cobaryn saw Stiles glance at his Earth Command colleagues. They seemed to approve of the concepts he had put forth. But then, that came as no surprise. It was clear that they were united on this point.

  "Since Captain Stiles seems eager to speak," Abute added, "I would like to hear his suggestion next."

  "All right," Stiles told him. He came forward and indicated the hologram with a generous sweep of his hand.

  "Two hundred and thirty people. Entire decks full of personnel quarters. An elaborate sickbay to take care of them when they get ill." He shook his head. "Is all this really necessary? Our Christophers run on crews of thirty-five—and most of the time, we don't need half that many."

  "Your Christophers don't have science sections," Shumar pointed out abruptly, his arms folded across his chest. "They don't have laboratories or dedicated computers or botanical gardens or sterile containment chambers."

  It was a challenge and everyone in the room knew it. Stiles, Shumar, the other captains, Abute… and the gathering of engineers, of course. Their expressions told Cobaryn that this was much more entertaining than any of them might have expected.

  Stiles lifted his chin, accepting the gauntlet Shumar had thrown down. "I read the data just as you did," he responded crisply. "I heard the argument for all those research facilities. My question is … how much of it do we need? Couldn't we cut out some of that space and come up with a better, more maneuverable ship?"

  Shumar shook his head. "Maybe more maneuverable, Captain, but not better—not if you consider all the capabilities that would be lost if theDaedalus was sized down."

  "And if it'snot sized down," Stiles insisted, "the whole ship could be lost… the first time it engages the enemy."

  Again, Director Abute intervened before the exchange could grow too heated. He held up his hand for peace and said, "I would say it's your turn, Captain Shumar. To make a suggestion, I mean."

  Shumar cast a last baleful glance at Stiles. "Fine with me," he replied. Taking a deep breath, he pointed to the hologram. "As we learned yesterday, we've improved our tactical systems considerably. Thanks to all the extra graviton emitters on theDaedalus, we've now got six layers of deflector protection—and as someone who's been shot at with atomic missiles, I say that's terrific."

  Cobaryn hoped there was a "but" coming in his colleague's declaration. He wasn't disappointed.

  "But what if we were to covert one or two of the extra emitters to another use?" Shumar suggested. "Say… as tractor beam projectors?"

  Matsura made a face."Tractor beams?"

  "Tightbeam graviton projections," Hagedorn explained, his voice echoing easily throughout the amphitheater. "When their interference patterns are focused on a remote target, they create a certain amount of spatial stress—which either pulls the target closer to the source of the beam or pushes it farther away."

  Shumar nodded approvingly. "That's exactly right."

  "However," said Hagedorn in the same even tone, "tractor beams are very much in the development stage right now. Some people say it'll be a long time before they can be made practical… if ever."

  The Rigelian saw some nods among the engineers. It wasn't a good sign, he told himself.

  Shumar frowned. "Others say tractor beams will be made practical in the next few months. Those are the people I prefer to put my faith in."

  Hagedorn shrugged with obvious confidence. "I was simply putting the matter in perspective, Captain."

  "As we all should," Abute said hopefully.

  "Is it my turn now?" Hagedorn asked.

  The director shrugged. "If you like."

  Hagedorn began by circling the hologram in an almost theatrical fashion. For a few seconds, he refrained from speaking… so when he began, his words had a certain weight to them.

  "You've made some interesting improvements in the ship's transporter function," he told the assembled engineers. "Somevery interesting improvements. For instance, it'll be a lot easier to shoot survey teams and diplomatic envoys to their destinations than to send them in shuttles.

  "But frankly," he continued, running his hand over theDaedalus 's immaterial hull, "I don't think these enhancements will be of any use to us in combat. As we proved during the war, it's impossible to force-beam our personnel through an enemy's deflector shields."

  "Not everything is intended to have a military application," Director Abute reminded him, anticipating an objection from Shumar or Cobaryn.

  "I recognize that," Hagedorn told him, as expressionless as ever. "However, transporterscan have military applications. Are you familiar with the work of Winston and Kampouris?"

  Abute's eyes narrowed. "It seems to me I've heard their names…"

  So had Cobaryn. "They are military strategists," he stated. "They have postulated we can use transporter systems to penetrate deflector shields by sending streams of antimatter along their annular confinement beams."

  Shumar made a sound of derision. "Talk about being in the development stage," he said. "Transmitting antimatter through a pattern buffer is and always will be suicide."

  Hagedorn shrugged. "Not if the buffer has been built the way we might build a warp core?"

  "In which case it would have tobe a warp core," Shumar insisted. "The same elements that would protect the pattern buffer would make it impermeable to matter transmission."

  "Not according to Winston and Kampouris," Hagedorn remarked.

  But this time, Cobaryn observed, the engineers seemed to rule in Shumar's favor. They shook their heads at Hagedorn's comment.

  Taking notice of the same thing, Abute scowled. "Which leaves us at another impasse, I take it."

  Shumar eyed Hagedorn, then Stiles and Matsura. "I guess it does."

  The director turned to Dane. "We have one more captain to hear from. Perhaps he can put forth a design recommendation on which we can all agree before we call it a day."

  He didn't sound very optimistic, the Rigelian noted. But in his place, Cobaryn wouldn't have been very optimistic either.

  Like everyone else in the amphitheater, he looked to Dane. The man considered Abute for a moment, then glanced at the engineers. "Communications," he said simply. "You say you can't do anything to improve what we've got. I say you're not trying hard enough."

  The director seemed taken aback—but not nearly as much as the crowd of engineers. "I've been assured by our design team," he replied, "that nothing can be done at this time."

  Dane regarded the men and women sitting all around him in their white labcoats. "I've got an assurance for your engineers," he said. "If they don't come up with a quicker way for me to contact headquarters, th
ey can find themselves another starship captain."

  Cobaryn had to smile. The Cochrane jockey had not shown himself to be a particularly charming individual. However, he did seem to have more than his share of vertebrae.

  Abute looked at Dane for a second or two. Then he turned to his engineers. "You heard the man," he told them. "Let's see what we can do."

  There was a rush of objections, but they died out quickly. After all, any engineer worth his degree relished a challenge. Even Cobaryn knew that.

  "Thank you again," the director told the people in the gallery. "You may return to your work."

  Clearly, that was the engineers' signal to depart. The Rigelian watched them toss comments back and forth as they descended to the level of the stage and filed out of the room. Then he turned to Abute, expecting to be dismissed as well.

  But Abute wasn't ready to do that yet, it seemed. He regarded all six of his captains for a moment, his nostrils flaring. Finally, he shook his head.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "we obviously have some differences. Honest ones, I assume. However, we must make an effort to seek common ground."

  Cobaryn nodded. So did Shumar, Hagedorn, Stiles and Matsura—everyone except Dane, in fact. But the Rigelian knew that Dane was the only one who was being honest with the director.

  After all, there was a war raging. The first battle had been fought to a standoff there in the amphitheater, but Cobaryn didn't expect that it would be the last.

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