Tales From the Captain's Table by Keith R. A. Decandido

Author:Keith R. A. Decandido [Decandido, Keith R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books/Star Trek
Published: 2012-07-13T17:36:40+00:00

Iron and Sacrifice

DAVID R. GEORGE III

She pursued him into the empty marketplace, confident of his capture as she finally closed the gap. Beneath the silvern glare of a waxing moon, she easily kept him in view. He fled past vending stalls—not staffed at this time of night—that marched between the old mortar-and-brick buildings on either side of the agora.

Not for the first time since she’d arrived at Temecklia II, Captain Demora Sulu counted herself fortunate that Strolt had made his way to this once-thriving spaceport at this time. Transporter inhibitors had always blanketed the complex, but five or ten years ago, he might have been able to find assistance here among the throngs of vendors and travelers, or at least blend in with their great number. Even at this time of night, the marketplace would have been filled with those hawking wares and services, and those looking to acquire one or the other. But the viral pandemic that had swept the population and numerous wayfarers a few years ago had triggered a dramatic decline in civilian traffic, and lying beyond Federation space, the port had never seen more than a few Starfleet vessels. So close to the Tzenkethi border, and with the Coalition’s recent aggressive attempts at expansion, the spaceport had subsequently never recovered.

Now, bathed in the hoary moonlight, the open-air bazaar appeared immaculate and new, but Sulu knew better. Even in the days it had flourished, this place had been unclean and timeworn, and in recent years, the Orlenti had allowed the entire facility to fall into disrepair. The nighttime illumination revealed the surroundings in soft tones, but veiled a multitude of unflattering details.

As Strolt ran, his long coat flaring out behind him, he glanced back over his shoulder at her. Perhaps twenty or twenty-five meters separated them now, and Sulu’s strong legs and aerobic stamina carried her closer with every stride. He was, like her, a human, and she felt confident that he could not outrun her.

Suddenly, though, Strolt darted left and dived between two stalls. With three sides meeting at right angles and rising up waist-high, the vending booths provided cover for Strolt to duck out of sight, but no place he could remain hidden for very long. But concealment might not be his aim right now, Sulu knew. If he could find time enough to arm the explosives he had stolen just moments ago, he could escape her—or threaten to escape her—in the most permanent way.

Sulu dashed to the left and hied along the open backs of the stalls. She wished that she had a phaser with her, or even a tricorder. As she approached the area where Strolt had gone, she slowed, calculating that he had to be in one of the next three booths. But she did not see him in either the first or the second, and so as she neared the third, she grew even more cautious.

But she found the third stall empty too.

Sulu checked out the next as well, without success, then stopped.

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