Hegron hated visiting the Tzoryp safe house’s basement. Windowless and dank, it was little more than a way station for the wounded on their way to Sto-Vo-Kor. The head of Imperial Intelligence on Qo’noS had not even seen fit to assign a fully trained surgeon to the Seudath mission, having reasoned it could make do with a field medic. Even that concession had proved to be a cruel jest, in Hegron’s opinion. The medic, Ragh, spent more time self-medicating with bloodwine than he did tending to the sick or injured.
An odor of must and urine lingered in the air. Passing the single row of empty, unmade beds draped with soiled sheets, Hegron grimaced at the squalor and tried to mitigate the stench’s effect by taking shallow breaths. He failed and winced in disgust. His bootsteps, which had snapped crisply in the pristine corridors outside his office, were muted by the patina of filth and dried blood that caked the basement’s floor.
He reached the last bed and stood at its foot. Its occupant, an Imperial Intelligence agent named Goloth, stirred. The lean, young operative opened his eyes slowly and regarded Hegron with contempt. “What do you want?”
“I’ll settle for your head.”
Goloth grinned. “She got away from you, yeah?”
“You won’t act so smug as part of a chain gang on Rura Penthe.”
The spy folded his hands behind his head. “That will never happen.”
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused us?”
Another insolent grin. “Enlighten me.”
“You were seen leaving the Treana’s hangar just before it exploded.”
“So?”
“Do the words ‘interstellar incident’ mean anything to you? The Treana was in Gorn military custody. Their ambassador to Qo’noS is calling your little stunt ‘an act of war.’ If the High Council can’t placate the Gorn imperator in the next forty-eight hours, a state of war will be declared.”
“Qapla’! More glory for the Empire!”
Hegron grabbed Goloth by his collar and hefted him half out of bed. “You stupid petaQ! The last thing we need is another enemy in the Gonmog Sector. Bad enough we already face the Federation and the Tholians.”
Goloth seized Hegron’s hand and wrested it from his shirt with a powerful twist. He held the section chief hostage as he rasped into his ear. “Your fears are not my problem.” He released Hegron with a hard shove and crossed his arms.
“Brave talk.” Hegron smoothed his rumpled tunic. “What do you think the director will say when I tell him you led an enemy agent directly to us?”
“He’ll ask why your security forces let her in the building.”
“Really? I think he’ll ask how you let a human—a woman, no less—best you in hand-to-hand combat.”
“Spoken like a man who lives behind a desk. Never judge your foes by anything other than their actions. There is no shame in losing to a worthy adversary.” The spy’s grin returned. “Being taken hostage, on the other hand. . . .”
Hegron quaked with rage. “Don’t think you can deflect the blame for this travesty onto me, you filthy yIntagh! It was your job to steal the Orions’ sensor data and bring it back, not mine. That means you’ll pay for the consequences of your botched operation, not me.”
“What makes you think my operation was botched?”
“How else would you evaluate its outcome? You led the enemy here, she beat you unconscious, and she escaped with the Orions’ sensor data.”
Goloth’s grin tightened to a smirk. “Correction.” He uncrossed his arms with the grace of a mesmerist performing a sleight-of-hand trick. Then he produced, as if from nowhere, a gray data card in his right hand. “The human woman escaped with one copy of the Orions’ data.” He extended his arm and offered the card to Hegron.
The director seized the card with a quick grab. “Should I even ask why you made two copies of this?”
“Insurance. In case of mishaps like the one we had today.”
“A wise precaution.” Hegron pocketed the card.
“Am I still to be condemned in your report to Imperial Intelligence?”
“That depends. Will your report mention the human woman’s invasion of our safe house?”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“Then I suspect your destruction of the Treana will be presented as an entirely justified tactic, undertaken to preserve operational security.”
“We understand each other, then.”
“What I understand is that you might live to see your next sunrise.” Hegron walked away from the bedridden spy and raised his voice so that it filled the infirmary. “And if I were you, Goloth, I’d arrange to see that sunrise on a world very, very far from here.”