a new, living planet on which to settle.”
“Negative,” Tuvok said. “Your torpedo bay is nonoperational. You lack the means to deploy the device in a manner that will produce the result you seek. Besides, the Genesis Effect has never produced lasting, stable results.”
“I don’t believe you. This technology has performed miracles. Your own Starfleet has acknowledged that it has raised the dead.”
Having met Ambassador Spock, Tuvok knew that he could not dispute that last point. But he decided that no good could come from acknowledging the fact aloud.
Lojur scowled at the image of the old man on the flight-control console’s small viewer. “My science officer is correct. If you attempt to use the device, you will create an uncontrolled detonation that will kill everyone aboard both our vessels. Turn it over to us now, and the Federation magistrate may grant you some leniency. But if you detonate it, you’ll—”
“The Federation seems to be nowhere near so assiduous in protecting border worlds from the Klingons as it is in guarding its military secrets. Starfleet did nothing to stop the Klingons from annexing our homeworld and making us refugees. It seems to me that your Federation owes us assistance, not harassment.”
“Even if you were to succeed in using Genesis to create a new home on this moon,” Lojur said, “how long do you think it will be before the Klingons discover what you’ve done and chase you away yet again?”
Stepping into the thoughtful silence that followed, Tuvok added, “The Klingons are certain to uproot you again once they discover that you have terraformed a world using Genesis—which I strongly suspect that you acquired from them in the first place.” Of course, Tuvok could provide no hard proof for this assertion. But it was already common knowledge among Starfleet’s officer corps that Klingon spies had somehow obtained a great deal of classified information about Project Genesis—information that easily could have passed from corrupt Klingon intelligence officers to private technology merchants willing to invest enough darseks in bribes to the appropriate officials.
“Please,” the old man said at length. “We are only refugees. We pose no threat to you.”
“Then prove it,” Lojur said. “Let us take the device and dispose of it safely. You can petition the Federation for help. If you’re willing to cooperate, I will personally vouch f—”
The old man interrupted. “If you attempt to board this vessel, I will activate the device, right here aboard my ship.”
“That would be a foolish decision,” Tuvok said. “Once you begin to generate a Genesis wave, the process will be unstoppable. An uncontrolled blast will annihilate the moon, the gas giant it orbits, and perhaps the rest of this system as well.”
“Then back off.”
“We can’t do that,” Lojur repeated.
Tuvok nodded. “Indeed. The planet this moon orbits harbors a complex ecosystem, and perhaps even intelligence.” While it was true that higher-order sentience had never been conclusively found among the drifting herds of gigantic jellyfishlike creatures that filter-fed on the less complex life that teemed in the planet’s cloud bands, it was nevertheless true that the creatures were alive, part and parcel of a flourishing alien ecosphere. It was also true that any number of natural phenomena, ranging from radioactive upwellings from the planetary core to local stellar mass ejections to the action of distant supernovae could easily summarily sterilize this world. Tuvok knew there was nothing that he or anyone else could do about such things.
He simply wasn’t prepared to give the illegal actions of renegades as much leeway as nature demanded.
The slight distortion created by the subspace communications bands took none of the steel from the tone of the old man’s reply. “I’ll do it if you don’t withdraw, I promise you that. Now. Don’t test me. Please.”
“Heave to and surrender the device,” Lojur said, matching the old man’s tone and timbre. He paused to take a deep breath. “You have one minute to comply, or we will open fire.”
“You can’t do that. There are twenty-two others aboard this ship, Commander. Women. Children.”
“Get them to the escape pods, and we will rescue them,” Tuvok said, tapping his console several times to fully activate the shuttlecraft’s targeting systems. Next, he took the precaution of arming one of the Amagiri’s small complement of photon torpedoes. Then he looked toward Lojur, who was making a slashing gesture across his throat. Tuvok responded by muting and blinding the cockpit’s comm pickups.
“He has us, Ensign,” said the Halkan. “We’re caught in a standoff.”
Tuvok had served alongside Lojur for several years, and