by Dayton Ward
“Ambassador Sortino,” he said, and Kirk got the impression that the Dolysian had only just learned the name’s proper pronunciation moments earlier, “my name is Phirol Jlen lu Brak, Chancellor Wiladra’s assistant, though it likely will be easier for you to refer to me as Jlen. The chancellor has asked me to convey her apologies for keeping you waiting. The council’s morning session took longer than expected to conclude.”
Sortino offered a small bow of her head. “No apologies are needed, Jlen,” she said, utilizing the custom—at least in the region of the planet from which the Dolysian hailed—of employing a shortened version of the formal given name. After introducing Kirk and Uhura, she added, “We are grateful that the chancellor is able to meet with us. I have no doubts that she and the rest of the council are very busy.”
“The council only meets once each season,” Jlen replied, “and it seems that the planners schedule every available waking moment. However, everyone is excited to meet with you.” He gestured toward the door through which he had entered the rotunda. “If you will follow me, I will take you to the chancellor’s study. She has asked to meet with you in private before you are introduced to the rest of the council.”
Kirk asked, “Does the chancellor have some concerns about our presence here?”
“I would not call them concerns,” the Dolysian answered, then smiled. “Though she does have some questions, and she is simply exercising one of the few perquisites of her office.”
Smiling, Kirk said, “Well, we can’t blame a lady for that, now, can we?”
With Jlen leading the way, Kirk and Uhura followed Sortino from the chamber. The corridor leading out of the rotunda appeared to follow the same design aesthetic, though in this case natural light was provided by a series of narrow windows running along both sides of the passageway near the ceiling. For the first time, Kirk noted the presence of recessed light fixtures, though none of them were active at this hour.
“I’m amazed that so much light makes its way in here,” Kirk said, recalling what he had seen of the council building’s exterior while walking to it from the landing area where they had left their shuttlecraft. “I would think the angles of the building itself would mitigate it.”
Slowing his pace, Jlen turned so that he could talk to Kirk as they walked. “A series of reflectors mounted at key points along the outside surfaces assist in redirecting the sunlight. It’s a simple yet very efficient design, resulting in reduced energy usage throughout the council building.” He indicated the light patterns reflecting off the faces of various stones they passed. “I must also confess that I love the effect.”
“Absolutely,” Uhura replied. “It’s beautiful.” When Kirk cast an amused look in her direction, she shrugged. “Well, it beats the light show where I normally work.”
They approached a pair of large doors, each of them appearing to be cut from a single piece of wood that had been embellished with an intricate carving of what Kirk recognized from the shapes of land masses as an artistic rendering of Dolysia itself, centered inside a pair of intertwined ribbons. Like everything else he had seen since entering the mammoth council building, the doors looked to have been created and maintained with utmost care. When Jlen was within a few paces of the doors, they began to part, though Kirk detected no audible signs of an automated mechanism. Beyond the portal was a smaller passageway that lacked the luxurious appointments of the rotunda and the connecting corridor. Furnishings were tasteful without being lavish, and the captain got the impression that this was an outer office or visitor reception area. It was not, he decided, where impressions were made; it was where real work was accomplished.
“The chancellor’s study is this way,” Jlen said, crossing the anteroom toward another door, which did not open at his approach. Instead, the Dolysian stopped before the entrance, and Kirk looked up to see a sensor mounted above the door. A moment later there was an audible tone and the door slid aside to reveal another office. Jlen marched into the room and Ambassador Sortino followed him. Upon stepping through the doorway, Kirk gestured toward Uhura to stand with him near the entry, their vantage point offering them an unobstructed view of the office. A single, large span of curved glass or some other transparent material formed the room’s rear wall, providing a spectacular view of a courtyard lawn and garden. Positioned before the window was a large desk consisting of a metal framework supporting a slab of dark, polished stone similar to granite or marble. Standing behind the desk was an older Dolysian female.
“Good morning, Chancellor,” Jlen said by way of greeting. “You asked me to bring our guests as soon as possible.” He indicated Sortino with a gesture. “Ambassador Dana Sortino of the United Federation of Planets, may I present Chancellor Wiladra Pejh en Kail, First Voice of the Unified Leadership Council.”
Her hands at her sides, Sortino bowed slightly at the waist. “Chancellor Wiladra, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet with you on this day.”
“The pleasure is mine, Ambassador,” Wiladra replied as she moved from her seat. Her shoulders were stooped, and her face was a darker shade of yellow than Jlen’s. When she placed her right hand on the edge of her desk to support herself as she moved, Kirk noted its minor trembling. Though obviously aged, she did not walk with the assistance of a cane or other support, and there was still a recognizable spark of intelligence and passion in her stark white eyes as she smiled in response to her visitors’ arrival. “I have been looking forward to this for quite some time.” After taking Sortino’s left hand in both of her own and holding it for a moment, she turned her attention to Kirk and his party. “You are the leader of the space vessel?”
“Captain James Kirk, Chancellor,” Kirk replied, “commanding the Starship Enterprise.” He indicated Uhura. “My communications officer, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura. On behalf of Starfleet, I want to express our gratitude for the assistance you’ve provided to the survivors of the Huang Zhong. Your people’s timely intervention saved at least one life.”
Wiladra straightened her posture a bit upon hearing his words. “That is very kind of you to say, Captain. Though my interactions with your Federation contact teams have been limited, they have given me a great deal of respect for your people. I am pleased we were able to help your ship and its crew. I myself have not yet had the chance to meet any of that vessel’s crew. In fact, you are the first representatives from Starfleet I have met since your other ship returned our vessel to us.” When she smiled, Kirk could not help but feel the enthusiasm she radiated. “On that occasion, the Resolute’s captain was kind enough to give me a tour of his ship. I hope that time and circumstances allow you to indulge me in a similar favor?”
“That would be my honor, Chancellor,” Kirk replied.
Nodding in apparent satisfaction, Wiladra said, “Before I can indulge in such pleasant distractions, we must first address matters of much greater importance. I understand that we have much to discuss, and it is a conversation I have been anticipating. While situations like this are probably commonplace for you, I am sure you understand how very unusual it all still is for us.”
“Think nothing of it, Chancellor,” Sortino said. “To be honest, I myself have not participated in very many conversations like this one, but I can tell you that no two meetings have ever been the same. Each of the cultures we meet has its own unique curiosities and concerns, and answering those questions is always a very rewarding experience for me. I can only hope it will be the same with you and your people.”
The chancellor nodded. “That is my fervent wish, as well.” Looking once more to Kirk, she asked, “And what of you, Captain? How many worlds have you visited? How many new societies have you encountered?”
Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Kirk cleared his throat. “I’ve seen my share, Chancellor. Unlike Ambassador Sortino, my primary mission is to travel to such worlds and meet with their representatives in order to learn about their cultures, and to bring that knowledge back to my people. I’d like to echo the ambassador’s co
mments, in that each encounter is unique and has its own rewards.” He could not resist adding, “And a few have brought their own distinctive challenges, as well.”
Wiladra seemed to sense the underlying humor behind his remarks. “Perhaps there will be time for you to regale me with some of those tales.”
“It would be my pleasure, Chancellor,” Kirk replied.
Sighing, Wiladra shook her head. “Despite our best efforts to crowd our schedules with such frivolous pursuits, I imagine a great deal of our time will be spent on far more important matters. I have to say, Ambassador, that the citizenry has been quite vocal with respect to entering an alliance with beings from other worlds. As you doubtless know, the initial reactions upon learning that there really was intelligent life beyond our world were quite varied. Though many were and remain excited by the idea, some expressed fear.” She smiled again. “I do not know why anyone would be so surprised by such a revelation; it seems logical that we would not be the only inhabited planet in the universe. And while many people seem genuinely interested and even enthusiastic about furthering relations with your Federation, there are those who believe you are here to exploit us in some manner.”
“It’s a natural reaction, Chancellor,” Sortino said. “However, I hope you understand and will convey to your people that any alliance with the Federation is your choice to make, not ours. You’ve had our representatives living and working among your people for quite a while now—more than enough time for opinions to be formed. We can’t deny that a relationship with your people will have tangible benefits for the Federation, but our hope is that the reverse is also true. If your ultimate decision is that you wish us to leave your world, then we shall do so, in peace, though with no small amount of regret.”
Holding up one withered hand, Wiladra said, “I have spent enough time with your ‘first contact’ specialists by now to know that you speak the truth. After all, would any party wielding the obvious power you possess bother with the pretense of befriending us for such a long period, rather than conquer us outright? Perhaps it has occurred to you that my world would offer little in the way of defense against such an effort.”
“That’s true, Chancellor,” Kirk said, stepping forward, “and now that you’ve opened a dialogue with us, you can be sure there are others out there who will take an interest in what happens here.”
Wiladra nodded. “Yes, we have spoken of that, as well. The Romulans, as you call them.”
“Yes, that’s right,” the captain replied. “Our being here in your system will be enough to get their attention.” He knew that if a more permanent Starfleet presence was established here, Federation boundaries would extend in this direction, and the Romulans would surely respond in some fashion. Not direct hostilities, Kirk suspected, though he found it hard to imagine the empire not deploying some form of counterpart on their side of the redefined border.
As though pausing to consider and envision the scenario at which Kirk had hinted, the elder Dolysian leader turned from him and Sortino and made her way toward the picture window at the back of her office. “One wonders why they haven’t made their own inroads into our system before now. Are we so primitive that we offer nothing of value?”
This time, it was Sortino who answered, “We fought a war with the Romulan Empire more than a century ago. It was a war our people only barely won. After a peace treaty was signed, the Romulans retreated far inside their borders, and there was little if any contact with them until just a few years ago. Since then, they’ve conducted infrequent probing actions into Federation space, though for the most part they seem content to keep to themselves. When they do venture outside their territory, with few exceptions they seem motivated by curiosity, mostly about what we’re doing. I expect the same will be true here and now. They’ll want to see what we find so interesting about you, your planet, and this star system. If the erinadium you extract from your mines proves useful to us, that might also hold true for the Romulans.”
“There’s also the matter of the energy field surrounding your mining planet,” Uhura said, from where she stood just behind Kirk. “The Romulans will be curious about that, too.”
“Well then,” Wiladra replied, “the Romulans will join a very long procession of people who have been asking that question for as long as anyone can remember.” Standing at the window, she gestured toward the sky. “It has always been there, appearing and fading as it does. Many of our most-accomplished scientists at least agree that something must be generating the field, but none among our people has ever been able to find evidence to support such a theory. The lack of such irrefutable substantiation has, of course, led some segments of our populace to embrace the belief that it is a creation of their deities. I myself am not spiritual, but even I have pondered that explanation more than once.” She turned from the window and made her way back to her desk. “Our scientific community has certainly examined it using all the technology available to us, and even they are unable to reach a consensus. Then there are those who believe it to be the work of travelers from the stars. For generations, that particular theory was both applauded and derided.” As she once more took her seat, she leaned forward, and Kirk thought he recognized a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she asked, “What are your feelings on such theories?”
Kirk was unable to resist a small chuckle. “I know only that they have a tendency to evoke a variety of opinions, Chancellor.”
“A very diplomatic answer, Captain,” Wiladra observed, nodding in appreciation.
Stepping forward, Sortino said, “With your permission and assistance, Chancellor, we’d like the opportunity to find answers to those questions.”
“We shall do what we can, Ambassador,” replied the elder Dolysian. “Let us consider this the first of what I hope will be many acts of cooperation and mutual benefit.”
“With all due respect, Chancellor”—Kirk turned toward Sortino to include her—“Ambassador, there are still some things we need to take care of.”
Sortino replied, “Quite right, Captain. The Huang Zhong.”
Dealing with the wreckage of the ship and caring for its survivors, as well as exploring the mystery of what had brought about the science vessel’s untimely demise, were matters requiring his attention. If, as Kirk suspected, the explanation was somehow connected to the rift, and his people discovered that the energy field surrounding Gralafi was not some natural phenomenon, how would that affect the Dolysian people? Would it be the sort of paradigm-shifting revelation for this civilization that might do more harm than good? Though special circumstances had seen to it that the Prime Directive was not an issue so far as preventing Federation interference with the Dolysian people, there still existed the very real danger of detrimentally influencing this society. Kirk knew that he and his people would have to tread softly for the duration of this assignment.
It’s certainly going to keep things interesting.
EIGHT
“It breaks my heart to see her like this.”
Lieutenant John Kyle could not help but sympathize with Master Chief Christine Rideout as the engineer looked across the expanse of terrain before her, a good portion of which was covered with wreckage from her ship, the U.S.S. Huang Zhong. Debris from the Archer-class scout lay strewn across the plateau, covering an area perhaps two hundred meters in length. From where he stood next to Rideout, Kyle could make out the mangled remains of what had been the ship’s warp nacelles, each having been torn from their mountings as the Huang Zhong’s helm officer, Lieutenant T’Vrel, fought to bring the vessel down in something approximating one piece. Despite that valiant effort, the ship had landed hard, carving a deep, ragged gouge into the planetoid’s unforgiving surface without benefit of structural integrity fields or even the inertial damping field, which, according to Rideout herself, had failed just seconds before impact. It was a testament to T’Vrel’s skills as a pilot that the scout ship fared as well as it had in the crash.
As for the rest of the Huang
Zhong, the large lump of twisted, scarred metal lying at the head of the massive trough it had created was somewhat recognizable as the ship’s primary hull. It had come to rest at what his tricorder told him was a thirty-two degree angle to starboard, thanks to a large boulder buried beneath the soil and onto which the ship had slid as it came to a halt. Kyle watched as engineers from the Enterprise, along with volunteers from the Havreltipa colony—many of them employees of the Jtelivran Mining Conglomerate who had offered to assist the salvage effort—moved about the wreckage. Even from this distance, he could hear the sounds of equipment at work, along with bits and pieces of different conversations, as his team and their Dolysian helpers got on with the business of cleaning up the crash site.
“At least everyone’s accounted for,” Rideout said after a moment, her gaze lingering on the main wreckage, as she fiddled with the closure on the front of her olive drab jumpsuit, which Kyle knew was the standard duty uniform worn by crews of smaller vessels like the Huang Zhong as they operated far away from the pomp, circumstance, and other protocol to be found on ships of the line. “So, there shouldn’t be any surprises in that regard, anyway.”
Kyle nodded, aware that a team of Dolysian volunteers, under the supervision of the colony’s administrator and senior medical doctor, had undertaken the thankless task of collecting the remains of the eleven Huang Zhong crew members who had perished in the crash. While he was grateful he would be spared the sight of their bodies, he knew from Doctor McCoy’s preliminary report that the deaths had been anything but pleasant, just as he knew that evidence of their passing would still be present in the ship wreckage.
Swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in his throat as he pushed aside those troubling thoughts, Kyle adjusted the strap of his engineer’s satchel as he returned his gaze to the debris field. “It’s a good thing you ejected the antimatter bottles when you did. Otherwise, the containment field likely would’ve failed, and we’d probably be looking at little more than a giant crater.”
