The Chelon administrator tilted her head. Her features were fairly rigid, but her uncertainty came through in her body language and voice. “So do you propose we abandon searching the wreckage and travel to the Hainali Basin?”
The first officer thought it over. “We’ve got to check every possibility, just to be safe. But I’m going to gamble that the rainforest should be our first priority. We’ll let the local officials search the wreckage.”
Sangupta looked over the massive pile of stone fragments that created the tenuous slope. “They’re probably better qualified to search here without starting a rockslide.”
“Right,” Mayweather replied. “We’ve got enough coming down on our heads as it is.”
Undisclosed location
“We’re getting impatient!” Rehlen Vons cried, as if the knife his henchman Damreg held against Samuel Kirk’s throat were insufficient to make that point. “It’s been two days and you’ve hardly made any progress!”
“Well, what do you expect?” Bodor chim Grev replied, trying to keep his voice firm. “You’re forcing me to work without Starfleet equipment, with this inferior public-domain translation software—an artist is only as good as his tools, you know!”
“Oh, a skilled artist can bring out the best in any tool,” Vons said. “Perhaps you’d like Mister Damreg to offer a demonstration?”
“You need to understand,” Grev went on in a more conciliatory tone. “Languages are made to be comprehensible. You just need to find the right way in, and they help you go the rest of the way. Encryptions are designed to impede you from getting in. It’s a lot harder!”
“Well, if you can’t do it,” Damreg interposed with a flourish of the knife, “we don’t need—”
“I know, I know. You could at least try putting some variety in your threats every now and then!” Kirk stared at him with alarm. “Sorry,” Grev said, half to him and half to their captors. “I get all Tellarite when I’m nervous.”
After a moment, Vons chuckled and nodded to Damreg to release Kirk from the immediate threat. Once the blond Zami had complied, the historian retreated to Grev’s side, rubbing his throat. “At this point, Mister Grev, I think I’m keeping you alive mainly for the entertainment value. But bore me . . .” Vons made a show of taking the knife from Damreg and inspecting the edge. “. . . and I’ll entertain myself another way.”
Oh, a born performer, this one, Grev thought. Just the kind to say too much, with the right prompt. As Vons turned and started to leave, Grev called, “Just tell me one thing, Mister Vons. How can you betray your people this way?”
Vons turned back to him and gave a knowing chuckle. “Oh, I always serve my people, Mister Grev.”
Once Vons and Damreg were gone, Grev smiled. “That’s what I wanted to know.”
Kirk stared. “What?”
“Something’s been off about him this whole time.”
“I know . . . that he was trying to act like he wasn’t trying to act suspicious, or something.” Kirk coughed. “But he’s not exactly hiding it now.”
“That’s just it, Sam. I thought that was why he seemed off before, but now he still seems off, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. Something about his body language, and the way he enunciates just a bit too perfectly. Everything about that man is a façade.”
The historian frowned. “You think he’s not really Vons?”
“I think he’s not really Rigelian. You catch how he subtly emphasized ‘my’ when he said ‘I always serve my people’?”
“But . . . we saw him use the biometric sensors to enter the vault.”
“Exactly,” Grev replied. “So either he’s Vons . . . or he’s using a form of disguise more advanced than Rigelian technology can recognize.”
Kirk considered. “Suliban Cabal, maybe? There can’t be many left, but . . .”
Grev was skeptical. “They were active at Rigel over a dozen years ago. The RTC would probably have countermeasures for their shapeshifting by now. Besides, what would they have to gain? No, I think we’re dealing with a group that’s currently active, has a mastery of disguise, uses transporters, and has an agenda to undermine the Federation.”
The human had figured out where he was going before he’d finished. “The Malurians.”
“The Malurians,” the Tellarite affirmed.
Kirk’s gentle features grew solemn. “These people have already tried to start a war once. They don’t care who they hurt.” He went on with resolution. “Grev, we can’t let them get the data in those servers. We have to destroy the files if we get a chance.”