STAR TREK: The Lost Era - 2298 - The Sundered

by Michael A. Martin

  “Negative,” Tuvok said. “The Neyel vessel possesses no such technology. And the pattern of the beam is consistent with those of Starfleet transporters.”

  “Contact Yilskene’s ship,” Chekov said to Rand.

  Rand turned, a hand on her earpiece. “They’re hailing us, sir.”

  “On screen.”

  The image on the main viewer shifted again, displaying a Tholian whom Chekov didn’t recognize. “Your actions have violated the truthcombat,” the creature said. “You will be destroyed.”

  Before Chekov could respond, the screen went blank.

  “Shields to maximum! Red Alert!” Chekov said. “Hail the Neyel ship.”

  The angry image of Oratok, Joh’jym’s visor, appeared on [341] the viewer. “Commander Chekov, where has Drech’tor Joh’jym been taken?”

  Chekov barely had time to register surprise when Tuvok spoke up again. “Commander, I have located the source of the transporter signal. It is coming from one of our own shuttlecraft. And I am detecting the captain’s transponder there as well.”

  Great, Chekov thought, putting aside his initial shock that somebody could take a shuttlecraft without, being noticed. And with the shields raised I can’t just beam everyone off the shuttle.

  “The shuttlecraft is refusing my hails,” Rand said.

  “Several of the nearest Tholian ships are powering up their weapons,” Akaar reported. “As is Oghen’s Flame.”

  Chekov’s mind whirled. “Get me whoever’s in charge of Jeb’v Tholis and Oghen’s Flame,” he shouted to Rand, preparing to talk faster than he ever had before.

  Chapter 31

  Somewhat disoriented, Sulu rose from where he’d fallen when the transporter beam released him. Except for the faint glow coming from the superheated air around him, he was in darkness. Standing in his damaged, hurriedly patched environmental suit, he tried to get his bearings.

  Then he noticed that the light levels all around him were quickly rising, and within moments had reached full illumination.

  Beside him stood Admiral Yilskene and Ambassador Mosrene. Despite their expressionless faces, Sulu gathered that they were both at least as confused as he was.

  Then he heard the voice of Ambassador Burgess. “It’s good to have the lights turned up again. There doesn’t seem to be much point in stealth anymore. Everyone knows what we’ve done by now. We’re committed.”

  Sulu turned and saw that Ambassador Burgess and Jerdahn were both watching him from the cockpit of one of Excelsior’s shuttlecraft. A flashing light on a forward corn-panel, indicating an incoming hail, was being ignored. Jerdahn was holding a Starfleet-issue phaser. And a semiconscious Neyel military officer—Sulu recognized him immediately as Drech’tor Joh’jym—was strapped to a chair near the boundary of a forcefield, which Sulu surmised [343] must be maintaining a separate atmosphere suitable for the Tholians.

  What the hell is going on here?

  Sulu was relieved to learn that the Tholian military caste apparently wasn’t as keen on assassinating higher-up as were their diplomats. So far, the Tholian ships visible through the forward windows hadn’t opened fire on the shuttle. However, several of them displayed dully glowing weapons tubes, apparently making ready to vent some wrath. They must be taking aim at Excelsior, he thought, chilled.

  Sulu’s gaze fell back upon Burgess, and his anger swiftly rose to a flash point. She’s finally crossed the line. Now I’m party to three kidnappings. And worse, she may have just touched off a three-way interstellar war. It would matter little to Starfleet Command and the Federation Council that she had acted both behind his back and without his knowledge. As commander of Excelsior, he was responsible for the actions of everyone aboard his ship.

  With an extreme effort of will, he reined in his anger, keeping his deep voice as level as he could manage. “You’ve got some serious explaining to do here, Ambassador.”

  “Isn’t my purpose obvious, Captain?” she said. “I’m trying to broker a peace between parties who’ve so far proved reluctant to talk.”

  “By abducting them? Listen to me, Aidan. You’re about to throw your whole career away.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about my career. Or yours. It’s about a war between the Tholians and our own distant relatives. That war will inevitably drag Earth into it as well. Unless we act now to prevent it. We have to get a dialog going between influential parties on both sides. By whatever means are at hand.”

  “This certainly isn’t the way, Ambassador.”

  “And a swordfight was?”

  “The truthcombat would have settled everything without [344] bloodshed. You may have just tossed that out the airlock. Congratulations, Ambassador.”

  Coming from behind him, Yilskene’s deep, multilayered voice interrupted Burgess’s reply. “This display is a farce.”

  Sulu turned to face the admiral. Ambassador Mosrene, who stood beside him, seemed content simply to watch and listen.

  Yilskene continued speaking before Sulu could respond. “Though you would pretend otherwise, Captain, your deceit is apparent. First, you ally yourselves with our most deadly enemies,”—he pointed a claw toward Jerdahn and Joh’jym—“all the while denying it. Then you conspire with those same enemies to obtain rescue from a lawful truthcombat.”

  Sulu decided he had finally reached his threshold for sanctimony. “What exactly does combat have to do with truth?” He was acutely aware of how easily Yilskene could kill him simply by ripping the patch from the front of his damaged suit. Though he could have backed away another meter toward the atmospheric forcefield, he stood his ground.

  “Whatever deceptions you have attempted, human,” the Tholian admiral said at length, “I grant that you have courage.”

  Sulu met Yilskene’s gaze unflinchingly. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t completely candid with you in the beginning. I did order Excelsior deep into your territory without your government’s authorization. But it was only to discover whether or not your Neyel adversaries might pose a threat to us. And I neither ordered nor approved your abduction.”

  Mosrene turned toward Yilskene, looking like a stone gargoyle that had suddenly come to life. “I believe the human is being truthful. Ambassador Burgess has exceeded her authority before.”

  “The captain is telling you the truth,” Burgess interrupted. “And to demonstrate my good faith, I will agree to return you both to your flagship—on two conditions.”

  At that moment, some of the Tholian vessels that had [345] charged their tubes loosed their volleys of directed energy, split seconds apart.

  “Excelsior has sustained a number of hits,” Jerdahn said calmly, looking down at a tactical display on the console before him. “But I perceive no serious damage.”

  Her shields are holding, Sulu thought, his fists clenching involuntarily. For now.

  He glared at Burgess. “You have no right to strike bargains that affect the safety of my ship, Ambassador. I want you to let them go now. Along with the Neyel commander. As a show of my good faith.” Sulu reasoned that Yilskene didn’t really want to kill him, or his crew. After all, the admiral had just walked away from an easy opportunity to simply rip open his environmental suit.

  “I don’t answer to you, Captain,” Burgess said, her green eyes blazing. “And I’m holding all the cards right now.”

  Sulu glared silently at her, forced to admit that she was right, at least for the moment. There was nothing he could do except wait for an opportunity to gain control of the situation. And hope that she didn’t bury them all in the meantime.

  “Name your terms,” Mosrene said.

  “One,” Burgess said, holding a finger aloft. “You both must agree to allow me to mediate a provisional truce between your forces and those of the Neyel commander, Drech’tor Joh’jym. And two, Admiral Yilskene must allow Excelsior and the Neyel vessel safe passage back to their respective territories.”

  “You ask much, human,” Mosrene said.

  “I ask you to c
onsider a way to avoid an unnecessary war. You may destroy Excelsior and the Neyel vessel today. And they will be but the first small stones that will start the rock-slide of war tomorrow. And that, I fear, will crush us all.”

  Several long, tense seconds passed while the Tholians turned toward each other, evidently conferring via the wordless ether of the Lattice. Sulu wondered if Yilskene was also [346] simultaneously relaying orders to his crew in the same manner.

  Finally, Yilskene turned to face Burgess, his rock-hard features unfathomable. But the universal translator picked up the anger in his voice. “Regarding your first demand: I presently have no alternative other than to listen to your words. My response to your second demand will be contingent upon their persuasiveness.”

  And with that, the admiral sat on the deck, suddenly becoming as motionless as a garden gnome. The Tholian ambassador followed suit.

  Well, Scheherazade, Sulu thought. We’ll get to continue breathing for about as long as the sultan likes the tale you’re about to tell.

  Turning to face Burgess again, he said, “Looks like it’s your play, Ambassador. You’d better make it good.”

  Sulu heard Joh’jym groan, and saw that Jerdahn was rousing him with repeated percussive slaps to the face. Still tied to his chair, the Neyel commander lolled his head and blinked in the bright cabin lights as consciousness returned more fully.

  “Jerdahn? What is this?” he said, looking around the shuttle. His speech was slurred, no doubt a residual effect of the phaser Jerdahn still held in his hand.

  “Drech’tor,” Jerdahn said to his superior. His tone was respectful, though Sulu noticed that he hadn’t lowered his phaser. “I have helped to arrange a parley with our adversaries. I regret that circumstances prevented speaking to you about it in advance.”

  Joh’jym tugged at the tough crash harness that had been wound around his body to secure him to the chair. “So you say, Subaltern. But your abducting and confining me inspires little confidence.” The commander of Oghen’s Flame nodded toward the forcefield barrier, beyond which the two inert Tholians were clearly visible to him. “And how can [347] one converse with Devils who lack even the rudiments of language?”

  Apparently, Yilskene was not nearly so inert as he appeared. “We have often asked the same question about your species, biped. How is it possible for you to suddenly acquire the ability to produce intelligible speech?”

  Burgess stretched her hands toward Neyel and Tholian alike. “We possess instantaneous translation technology. Neyel culture has nothing like it, and the Tholian equivalent evidently isn’t yet quite as developed as ours. It is my hope that our translator will provide the basis for creating a new understanding between your peoples and ours.”

  Sulu began to feel an ember of hope burning within him. Perhaps there was indeed some method to Burgess’s madness after all. “Perhaps we should start by clearing up the most urgent of the misunderstandings that divide you.”

  “Say on,” Yilskene said.

  “I refer to the weapons which your adversaries claim you have deployed against them, from your colony world.”

  Yilskene’s multilayered voice grew sharply discordant. “Weapons? The settlement contains only peaceful members of various lesser castes, mainly builders and engineers. As well as equipment designed to seal the interspatial rupture through which the aggressors attack us. Because this task is large, and the colony has run this equipment continuously over a period of many years. We no longer send ships to the OtherVoid.”

  Burgess seemed to mull these facts over for a long moment before addressing the two Neyel. “I ask that you both consider the possibility that the damage the Tholians’ equipment has caused to Neyel worlds on the other side of the rift may be entirely unintentional.”

  Joh’jym did not yet appear convinced. “You wish us to believe that the technology that has ravaged our worlds was [348] intended only to close the rift? How could all of the war and suffering we Neyel have endured since our first encounters with these Devils have been a mere accident?”

  Burgess now seemed to be in her element. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Centuries ago, my home planet was plunged into a global war because of the assassination of a single man. A crime, a mistake, if you will, that was allowed to engulf an entire world. War can be the ultimate mistake, the last in a long, dreary series of errors.”

  Sulu thought he saw a subtle change in Joh’jym’s gray eyes. “If mistake it is, it is a mistake to which two civilizations have already committed themselves.”

  “And both of those civilizations may cease to exist soon unless they both commit themselves to something nobler,” Burgess said.

  “How?” Mosrene said, his choir of voices sounding infinitely sad. Sulu surmised that, because he was a diplomat, issues such as the expanding Tholian-Neyel conflict must weigh heavily on his soul. “How can we do that, once hide has been sliced and ichor has been drawn?”

  “We can start,” Burgess said, “by examining and trying to put right all the mutual errors that have led us to the edge of this precipice.”

  Jerdahn laughed, but without mirth. “There seem to have been many. Where do we begin?”

  Burgess looked pained. She didn’t seem to have a ready answer. Sulu wondered if she was finally realizing just how enormous a task she had chosen to tackle. After all, even the Organians might have had some trouble sorting this situation out.

  Sulu decided to jump in. “Let’s start with the way both of your species simply assumed that the other wasn’t even sentient. It seems to me this entire conflict was built on the assumption that the other side is an implacable foe that can’t be reasoned with. Maybe once the word gets out on both [349] sides that this isn’t so, everyone involved will have to reevaluate the idea of war. And put a stop to it.”

  Silence reigned aboard the shuttlecraft for several minutes while everyone considered what had been said.

  Then Mosrene spoke up, his chorus of voices far more pleasing and harmonious than before. “The Tholian Lattice has already been advised of what you and Ambassador Burgess have revealed to us today. Much will doubtless be reevaluated now, among all the castes.”

  “Do you think the Tholian Assembly’s government will consider not reactivating the damaged equipment on the colony?” Sulu said. “If you were to cease your recent efforts to close the interspatial rift, the Neyel might regard it as a real sign of good faith.”

  “I can make no promises today,” Mosrene said. “But I believe the Great Castemoot Assembly can be swayed. I will advocate a cessation of all activity in and around OtherVoid as long as invader hostilities cease. But there is much work ahead.”

  “I will authorize the release of Excelsior and the other vessel,” Yilskene said. “As a gesture of good faith, the other vessel has my leave to enter OtherVoid to return home. Excelsior must get under way on a heading for Federation space in one of your hours.”

  Smiling, Sulu turned back to Burgess. “Then I think now would be an excellent time for another show of good faith, Ambassador. Don’t you agree?”

  Burgess nodded, evidently aware that if Yilskene and Mosrene had really just made contact with the Tholian Lattice, then continuing to detain them in the shuttle wasn’t necessarily going to buy anyone’s safety. She entered a series of commands into one of the cockpit consoles, then bid the two Tholians good-bye.

  After Yilskene and Mosrene had vanished from sight, Burgess set about pumping out the noxious, [350] Tholian-friendly atmosphere contained behind the forcefield barrier. Sulu glanced at his suit’s telltales and saw that it had only minutes of breathable air left, thanks to all the damage it had sustained during the truthcombat.

  As the atmosphere around him normalized, he glanced toward the two Neyel. Joh’jym, whom Jerdahn had just freed from his bonds, appeared thoughtful. Jerdahn, however, looked downright glum.

  Burgess evidently noticed it as well. “What’s wrong, Jerdahn?”

  Jerdahn handed his phaser to Burgess. �
��I fear our ‘reevaluation’ will be a good deal less efficient than that of the Dev—the Tholians. Unlike them, we have no magical ‘Lattice’ we can consult in order to avert war.”

  “No, we do not,” said Joh’jym, absently rubbing at his rough-skinned wrists. Evidently the tough crash harness material had begun to cut off his circulation. “But we may have something that will work at least as well. I have personally briefed the Gran Drech’tor of the Neyel Hegemony on three occasions since this conflict began. And Jerdahn once served as one of her visors, before he found himself on the wrong side of the issue of Total War against the Devils.”

  Sulu had wondered about Jerdahn’s references to his “old life.” The notion that he now held a humble job because he’d run afoul of Neyel Hegemony politics made an appealingly romantic sort of sense.

  “I believe that I know the Gran Drech’tor’s heart as well as anyone in my position can,” said Jerdahn. “She has no true wish to wage Total War, in which one side exterminates the other.”

  That sounds promising, Sulu thought as he released the catch on his suit’s neck ring and removed his helmet. “Will she listen to either of you? Do you think she can be persuaded to end the war?”

  Jerdahn raised his hands in a comfortingly human [351] gesture of uncertainty. “Who can say for certain? No one has demonstrated a viable alternative before. But I feel that when she learns that our foes are as sapient as we, much will change.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Burgess said.

  “But what of those who seek Auld Aerth?” Jerdahn asked his superior. “Many Neyel will still want to pass into this side of the Rift to seek it out. That may spark further conflict.”

  Sulu was tempted to tell them both flat out that they had both already come into contact with denizens of their ancestral world. That he had seen that beautiful blue planet with his own eyes, that he had been born there. But Burgess had already pointed out that this might cause more harm than good, and might even damage his credibility in their eyes.

  Joh’jym placed an iron-gray hand on his subordinate’s shoulder. “Aerth exists primarily in our hearts and souls anyway. If the price of our survival is sacrificing the reality to the ideal, then so be it.”