“Then I trust that all your immediate questions have been answered, Lieutenant,” zh’Thane said, facing Ro. Ro noticed then that zh’Thane’s own hands were clasped behind her back, perhaps to conceal the visible trail her own grief had left upon her body.
Ro nodded to Shul and Tarses, and they began to gather themselves to depart. “Certainly, Councillor. I believe we have enough information for now. Is there anything I can do to help…to provide for funeral or memorial arrangements?”
“No. Again, these quarters are to be considered off-limits to all station personnel.” Zh’Thane gave Ro a sharp look, as if to warn her. “If I need to, I’ll discuss the matter with Colonel Kira to make certain this requirement is honored. I will contact you regarding other arrangements as we need them.”
Ro was uncomfortable with the councillor’s near-threatening tone, but knew that now was not the time to debate it. “I’ll make certain to discuss the matter with Colonel Kira myself, and advise my personnel of your…restrictions.”
“We will need a stasis chamber for Thriss’s body,” zh’Thane said, seeming not to notice that Ro had spoken. “Please have it delivered as soon as possible. Discreetly.”
“Certainly.” Ro eyed Tarses, who nodded almost imperceptibly as he moved toward the door with Shul.
As zh’Thane turned away from her, Ro began to make her way to the door as well. She stooped near Anichent and Dizhei, but carefully avoided coming into contact with them. They maintained their crouched positions, both of them seeming to be entirely inward-directed.
In a low voice, Ro said, “My sincere condolences on the loss of your bondm—”
Anichent lunged at her like a mad targ, his eyes wild, spittle flying from his mouth. The strangled growl he let out was unlike anything Ro had ever heard before, and she toppled backward, kicking out to try to get into a defensive posture.
Shul drew his phaser and leveled it at Anichent, but there was no need. Anichent froze where he stood, though his chest heaved and drool still came from his mouth. Ro backed away and stood, holding one hand up to calm Shul, and the other in front of her, palm outward, to placate Anichent.
“Please leave,” zh’Thane said, her back still toward them. “As you can surely see by now, Shar’s choice not to conform to his predestined bonding has destroyed not just Thriss’s life. My son has also ravaged the lives of Anichent and Dizhei.”
Ro and the others backed out of the room in silence. None of them spoke until they were back at the Promenade, where the bustle of life replaced the pall of death.
2
A gout of blue flame ripped through the long ship’s irregular hull as it sped through space, maneuvering from side to side in an effort to dodge further blasts from its pursuers. The disruptor weapons on the larger craft were mounted on gimbals, allowing them to track its smaller prey’s movements closely.
The smaller ship accelerated, the lambent internal fires of its propulsion system becoming preternaturally bright. Another salvo struck her laterally, slicing deep into the hull plating amidships. Undeterred, the small craft’s pilot continued to spin and weave, evading the next burst of energy. Moments later, another blast struck a glancing blow, shearing off an extrusive wing element. But the wounded vessel soldiered on, headed toward a somewhat less empty region of space, where fragments of cometary ice shimmered as they made their centuries-long procession around this system’s distant primary star.
And then, in front of the fleeing craft, yet another ship loomed. Exiting the system’s Oort cloud was a large, gray, nearly flat vessel flanked by blue-illuminated engine nacelles integrated into its hull. Across its nacelles and protruding dorsal surface the designation NX-74205 was visible, thanks to several running lights.
The damaged ship swooped to give the newcomer a wide berth, only to catch yet another disruptor blast on its port side. Molecular fires danced across the hull of the now all but wrecked vessel, and crystallizing atmospheric gases rushed out as she careened forward—now on a collision course with the newly arrived ship.
A short time earlier
Ensign Thirishar ch’Thane sat alone on the floor of the darkened quarters he shared with Nog. He listened intently to the quiet, taking solace in this solitary, lightless space. Since Nog was currently on a survey mission with Lieutenant Dax and Dr. Bashir, he would probably have the room to himself for the next several hours. At least until his next duty shift began.
The only light in the room came from the holo of a laughing Thriss, which blazed down at him from the room’s small desk. The image captured a few crystalline moments, endlessly replaying her soundless laugh, the carefree toss of her platinum hair. Looking at the image was sheer torture.
But he owed her a penance. Owed it to Dizhei and Anichent as well. Owed it to every Andorian who had ever dared hope for a better future.
He couldn’t bring himself to look away.
So far, Shar had shared the news of Thriss’s suicide only with Ezri, whom he knew he could trust not to tell anyone else. But how long would it be before Nog or others among this crew of forty began guessing at what was troubling him? Shar was already certain that his decision to sit out the shuttlecraft Sagan’ s current survey mission had already given Nog cause to suspect that all was not right with him.
A yellow alert klaxon sounded, and a light began flashing rhythmically above the doorway.
Shar regarded the intrusive illumination contemplatively. After ordering the computer to extinguish its light and noise, he was only mildly surprised to note how little it concerned him.
And he wondered if he had finally begun to drink from the same
