Star Trek: The Original Series: The Shocks of Adversity (24 page)

“Easy,” the other one said, “you don’t want to leave any marks.”

The big one snorted dismissively. “If anyone asks, he tripped.”

They half carried, half dragged Chekov the rest of the way down the gangway to the
lowest deck, and then down the corridor to a small room, where they dropped him unceremoniously
to the deck before leaving him and sealing the door behind them.

“Mister Chekov!” a voice said, and he looked up to see two other red-uniformed
Enterprise
officers, one moving across the deck to check on him, and
the other lying in pain on the room’s single narrow bunk, clutching her injured ankle.
“Are you okay?”

Chekov looked up at the engineer, and then around at their small cell. “It doesn’t
look like it,” he answered.

*   *   *

“Captain,” Scotty reported from the bridge engineering station, “I’ve just lost contact
with all of my engineering teams over on the
814
.”

Kirk swiveled in his chair to face Scotty, and then Uhura to his left. “Lieutenant?”

Uhura’s jaw tensed as she ran through a sequence of settings on her panel. “All communication
with the
814
is being jammed, sir.”

“Jammed? By what?”

“They’re generating a low-level subspace inversion field,” Uhura said as she continued
to study and manipulate her board. “The hard connections are still intact, but personal
communicators have been neutralized.”

Kirk felt a ball of fury building up in his chest. He pushed himself up from his chair
and ordered Uhura, “Get me Laspas.”

“I’ve been trying, sir,” Uhura answered. “They aren’t responding.”

“Can you punch through the jamming field?” he said, gripping the railing in front
of her station.

Before she could answer, though, Arex interrupted, saying, “Captain, we’re dropping
out of warp.”

Kirk spun back forward, and saw that the stars on the main viewscreen had indeed come
to a standstill as the ship reentered relative space. At last estimate, they weren’t
due to reach Wezonvu for another fifteen hours. The hairs on the back of his neck
were sticking out straight as he ordered, “Full sensor sweep. Location.”

“Just under zero point nine light-years from our destination,” Spock answered from
the science station. “I am also detecting—”

“Sir!” Arex said, talking over the first officer. “Four ships approaching at full
impulse, intercept course!”

“On the viewscreen, full magnification,” Kirk nearly shouted. The starfield before
him jumped, and the incoming vessels appeared, little more than slivers of reflected
light at their current distance, but unmistakably growing closer.

Spock, peering into his hooded viewer, added, “The computer has identified them as
Goeg Domain Defense Corps Short-Range Enforcement Vessels, Class I.” Those, Kirk recalled
from what he had studied of the Defense Corps over the past two weeks, were the Domain’s
top-of-the-line fighter ships. Highly agile and maneuverable, and each equipped with
nearly three times as much firepower as any comparably sized Federation ship.

Spock then lifted his head away from his viewer and turned to face Kirk directly.
“Their weapons systems are fully armed.”

Through the blaring of the Red Alert klaxons, and the sound of his own pulse pounding
madly in his ears, Kirk almost missed Uhura’s report: “I’ve managed to get through
the jamming field to the
814
, sir. No response.”

Kirk silently vowed to make Laspas pay for this massive betrayal, assuming that they
didn’t get blown out of space before he had the chance. “Can we hail the incoming
ships?”

“I haven’t been able to get through the jamming,” Uhura answered.

“Keep trying,” he ordered, moving over to the engineering station. “Scotty,” the captain
said, leaning close and speaking in a low voice, “I think it may be time to burn some
bridges.”

“Aye,” Scotty said, then added grimly, “The idea of abandoning our people over there,
though . . .”

“I know,” Kirk said. The fact that five men and two women were being held hostage
was the only thing that gave him pause about breaking their connection to Laspas’s
ship. But there were 423 people
aboard the
Enterprise
. “Transporters?” he asked Scotty.

The engineer shook his head. “Not as long as we’re joined; it’d be the same as attempting
intraship transport. I can have the transporter room ready to lock onto any human
life signs once we’re at least two hundred meters apart.”

“Do it,” Kirk said, even though he knew that they could be under attack by that point
and might not have the time to drop shields and beam his crew back. The captain pushed
those concerns aside and asked Scotty, “Are we ready to separate, then?”

“I’ve sealed off the umbilicals and the airlock, but we’ll need another”—Scotty paused
to check the chronometer on his console—“forty-seven seconds for the warp plasma levels
to fall far enough. Otherwise we’ll end up ripping sections of the hull off in the
process.”

Kirk nodded. “Carry on.” The roster of those he was potentially leaving behind—Chekov,
Cleveland, Farrell, Fradella, Kent, Nakahara, Strassman—ran through his mind.
I hope you all can forgive me.
“Mister Arex, ready shields and phasers.”

“Standing ready, sir,” the Triexian navigator acknowledged.

“Scotty?”

“Thirty seconds.”

Kirk drew a breath, silently counting off the seconds. Just before he reached zero
and gave Scotty
his order, the tension on the bridge was broken by Uhura saying, “Captain, we’re receiving
an incoming hail from the lead fighter.”

“Scotty, Arex, stand by,” Kirk said, then stood up before saying to Uhura over his
shoulder, “Open a channel, and put it on the main viewer.”

The captain was not surprised to find himself looking at the image of another Goeg.
This one did not wear the Domain Defense Corps uniform; instead, he wore a green suit
of clothes, which Kirk took for Goeg civilian wear. His mane was a darker brown and
cut shorter than that of Laspas and the rest of his crew.
“Captain James Kirk, I presume?”
he said, offering a small, tight smile.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Kirk answered. “And you are . . . ?”

“My name is Fallag
,
chargé d’affaires for the Goeg Domain,”
he introduced himself.
“On behalf of President Raltgel and the Executive Congress, allow me to welcome you
to our space.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Kirk told him, exchanging a quick look with Spock before
continuing, “but sending out a squadron of Class I enforcers isn’t exactly laying
out the welcome mat.”

Fallag’s smile slipped then. “
The reason for this welcome, Captain Kirk, is due to the Abesian woman you are holding
aboard your vessel. I know Laspas has tried to impress upon you the seriousness with
which we take the Taarpi threat, but it was felt that
we needed to ensure there were no additional ‘miscommunications.’ ”

Kirk felt the muscles in his jaw tense. “Commander Laspas and I have already come
to an agreement, and he has given me his word that the
Enterprise
would be safely conducted to the repair base at Wezonvu.”

“
And it will be, unless you would like to carry through with the immediate decoupling
you were preparing to initiate just now?
” Fallag asked archly. Kirk gave nothing away, even as he heard Scotty mutter something
indistinguishable behind him. “
Just be warned that if you do so,” Fallag continued, “it will be taken as a hostile
act by the enforcer commanders.
”

“Understood,” Kirk said through his tightened jaw, then turned to Scotty. The engineer
returned a look of resignation and started to reverse the steps that he had taken.

Fallag smiled again, saying, “
The enforcers will escort the
Enterprise
and
Starvessel 814
for the remainder of your transit. And I should like to come aboard the
Enterprise
, with your permission.
”

“Permission granted,” Kirk said, idly wondering if refusing permission would make
any difference.

“Excellent,”
Fallag said.
“I’m quite hopeful, Captain Kirk, that this meeting will mark the beginning of a long-lasting
relationship between the Goeg Domain and the United Federation of Planets. Until then.”
The envoy’s transmission ended, and the four
alien ships appeared on the screen. They were in a diamond formation and close enough
now that their deadly-looking profiles were clearly visible. The captain rubbed his
hand across his eyes as a dull ache throbbed behind them.

“Sir?” Kirk turned to Lieutenant Uhura, who told him, “We’re receiving a message from
the
814
. All of our people are being put off their ship. They want us to unseal the airlock.”

Scotty stepped up to the rail, saying, “We can still break away and try to make a
fight of it, sir.”

“No, Mister Scott,” Kirk said. “Do we still have Domain engineering teams aboard?”

“Only for as long as it takes me to toss ’em out by the scruff of their necks,” Scotty
said.

Kirk nodded his approval. “Once you’ve done that, alert the shuttlebay to stand by.
Mister Spock,” he said, stepping out of the command well. “We have guests to greet.”

*   *   *

“If there’s one thing worse than a thug, it’s a stupid thug,” McCoy said as he held
Chekov’s chin and tilted it backward as he ran a tissue regenerator over his patient’s
nose. In addition to Chekov, four of the six engineers who had been held aboard the
814
had sustained minor injuries. In all cases, the official explanation from the
814
was that they had accidentally tripped and fallen. “If you’re going to lie,”
McCoy grumbled as he repaired the damage done to the ensign’s septum, “at least be
creative about it.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason to be angry with them.” The regenerator had the effect of
making Chekov sound heavily congested when he spoke, though it did nothing to muffle
the sarcastic undertone of his words.

McCoy deactivated his instrument and released his grip. “Sorry, Pavel. I don’t mean
to minimize what they did to you . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, Doctor,” Chekov said. “At least now they’ve shown their true
colors, huh?”

“That they have,” McCoy said, though that was of little consolation, as the
Enterprise
was still under the control of the Domain ship, and headed deeper into their territory.
He lay the tissue regenerator aside, took up a hypospray, and gave Chekov a small
dose of analgesic. “Go back to your cabin and get some rest. I’ve asked the captain
to take you off duty for twenty-four hours.”

“And I’ve approved that request.” McCoy turned as Kirk, followed by Spock, entered
sickbay. Both were in their full dress uniform, having just finished their initial
meeting with the envoy from the Goeg Domain. From the look on the captain’s face,
that meeting hadn’t gone well. Even Spock’s expression seemed more dour than usual.

The captain exchanged a few words of sympathy and appreciation with Chekov before
the ensign
went on his way back to his cabin. Once the three of them were alone, McCoy asked,
“How did things go with this Fallag fellow?”

Kirk answered by pressing his fingertips to the middle of his forehead and asking,
“You wouldn’t happen to have any of your special prescriptions on hand, would you,
Bones?”

“That bad, huh?” McCoy said, and led them into his office. He unlocked a low cabinet
where he kept his emergency supply of Kentucky bourbon, grabbing the bottle and three
glasses. He set them on his desk and dispensed the amber elixir for the three of them.
McCoy knew Spock would decline to drink, but his own upbringing wouldn’t allow him
not to make the offer.

True to form, Spock ignored his tumbler, while Kirk lifted his glass in a silent toast.
The captain poured his drink back, then struggled to hide any reaction to the burning
sensation as it ran down his throat. McCoy considered him with amusement as he savored
his own drink, and once it looked as if the captain might be able to speak, he asked,
“So, what happened?”

“Well,” Kirk said, “the good news is, Mister Fallag has assured me that the
814
will be taking us the rest of the way to Wezonvu, that we will be able to have all
our repair work completed there, and from there the
Enterprise
will be afforded free passage back to Federation space.”

“Awful generous of them,” McCoy cracked. “What’s the bad news?”

Kirk stared into his drink and said, “The bad news is that, to get that guarantee,
I had to threaten him with war.”

McCoy had just brought his own glass to his lips, and nearly sloshed half of his bourbon
down his front when he heard that. “Come again?”

“The captain is employing hyperbole,” Spock interjected. “We merely informed Mister
Fallag that if the
Enterprise
were to remain missing for an extended period of time, Starfleet Command would send
out a ship looking for us.” Spock paused before adding, “He may have given them the
impression that Command would be sending several heavily armed
Constitution
-class vessels directly to Goega.”

McCoy chortled. “All loaded with corbomite, I assume.” McCoy appreciated how big a
bluff that was. Given the nature of the
Enterprise
’s current mission, out beyond the farthest edge of Federation space and outside of
reliable subspace radio contact, it could be a year before anyone back home came looking
for them, if not longer.

“Not corbomite—photon torpedoes,” Kirk told McCoy with a scowl, then explained, “Fallag
was highly impressed by the way our weapons destroyed the Taarpi ship so easily and
so completely. Turns out we owe Laspas’s crew our thanks for providing
such an effective demonstration of our strength for their leaders.” Kirk tilted his
head back and drained the rest of the bourbon in his glass in a single swallow.