by Diane Duane
The captain caught his breath, then turned toward the car. “Want me to drive?” he asked, heading for the open door.
“With all due respect…no,”Spock said, firmly, heading him off. “I have analyzed the controls with my tricorder, andI would prefer to drive. Your efforts at chauffeuring during our sojourn on Iotia are still vivid in my memory.”
Kirk chuckled as the three would-be rescuers piled into the ground vehicle. It was a matter of moments to activate the engine and turn the car. Kirk crouched beside Spock and felt adrenaline course through his body. He glanced back at McCoy, who was gripping the edge of the backseat with both hands, holding on as Spock sent their stolen transportation barreling down the road.
“Jim, how the hell did you know that would happen?” the doctor demanded, pointing in the direction of the explosion.
“That was theKepler,” Kirk said. “You told me to give us plenty of time to get away…and it came in handy as a diversion.”
With a sharp cry, the doctor grabbed the seat again and held on for dear life as the car slewed around a sharp curve. “Dammit, Spock, watch it! You’re a Starfleet officer, not a chauffeur!”
“Spock, how long till we reach the spaceport?”
“ETA is…fifteen point seven minutes, Captain,” Spock said, intent on driving. He sent the vehicle skidding into another tight turn, frowning slightly in the lights of the controls. “This road, unfortunately, winds about rather than going directly through the woods. I apologize for the…instability…of the ride.”
Kirk grinned, feeling the car surge forward. “Just as long as it gets us there before Peter gets off-world, Spock. That way we’ll only have to stealone ship.”
“I shall endeavor to avoid that eventuality,” Spock promised gravely, and increased speed until the groundcar seemed ready to take flight.
Peter and Valdyr had alternately walked and jogged for over an hour before they reached the edge of the forest, which ran almost up against the spaceport. The two paused for a moment, staring down at TengchaH Jav’s perimeter security gate—the first of several hurdles they had to surmount in their quest to get off Qo’noS.
Valdyr glanced over her shoulder, then fished in her pocket, as they approached the gate. “This gate is programmed to admit any valid identification,” she told him.
He gazed at the security device that would scan the number of people approaching and only admit those with the proper ID. “That’s great,” Peter remarked, watching her take out a small ID disk. “I don’t have one.”
“Yes, you do,” she said. “I took Darj’s.” Handing him a disk, she fed hers into the scanner. “Before I killed him, I’d wondered how I would get you past this point.”
Peter followed suit, and the gate swung open. Quickly, the two headed for the nonmilitary side of the port. If they were in luck, they would find a small, private vessel that was unsupervised while its crew was on shore leave. “Maybe we can find a trader or a smuggler’s ship,” Peter told Valdyr, “with a Federation registry. Federation vessels have standarized controls. I know I can pilot one of those. What other checkpoints do we have to cross?” he asked in a low voice, as they hurried along, watching keenly for any sign of Karg or his troops.
“There is an inside gate that leads to the civilian landing fields, but it is not always guarded,” she whispered. “If there is a guard…” She patted her crossbow.
Peter swallowed hard. “Valdyr, there’s got to be another way. If there’s a guard…distract him somehow—act helpless, or something.”
She spun, glaring at him.
“Just for asecond!” he argued. “While he’s helping you, I’ll come up behind him and knock him cold.”
“Are you sure you can?” she asked pointedly. “You’ll only get one chance. Perhapsyou should act helpless!”
“Let’s not argue technique, okay?”
She nodded, if reluctantly. “Once we’re inside that gate, we’ll have to choose a ship. Of course, they are all locked…. ”
“I should be able to break the codes,” Peter assured her. “I learned the basics for breaking computer codes back when I was in my teens, and most freighters—especially the older models—don’t have the most up-to-date security systems.”
“That would be—” Valdyr began; then she glanced back over her shoulder again, only to halt in her tracks. “Lights! A ground vehicle!” she whispered, shoving the human toward a stack of vacuum-proof packing crates. “Hide!”
Peter leaped for cover and Valdyr joined him. They crouched, rigidly still, scarcely daring to breathe. After a moment, he peered around the nearest container, making sure he was in shadow. He watched the vehicle as it skidded to a stop. “Someone’s in a big hurry,” he whispered, with a sinking feeling in his midsection.
“It is one of Kamarag’s vehicles,” Valdyr said, with despair in her voice. “They have tracked us, somehow.”
Without discussing it, the two fugitives both took out their disrupters and prepared for battle. They watched anxiously as the vehicle’s doors opened, and three black-clad shapes emerged. Two were tall and lean, the other shorter and stocky. They moved furtively, and one kept glancing at some device in his hand—probably a scanner or tricorder. Peter groaned inwardly. Valdyr took his hand, gripping it so hard she made the bones grind.
Then his eyes narrowed as he stared at the three shapes. The stockier man was obviously in charge…both of the others turned to report to him as they searched. There was something about the way that one moved. Something familiar…. They wore no traditional Klingon garb that he had ever seen. And none of these figures looked big enough to be any of Karg’s men. The shapes of their heads in the shadows seemed…
“We must kill them with the first shot,” Valdyr murmured softly in his ear, “or we will never escape.”
He nodded distractedly, even as the three searching figures drew closer to their hiding place. “Wait,” he whispered, “let them get closer first. We can’t afford to miss.”
She aimed her weapon, even as he did. But then he lowered the disrupter. He was too busy staring at the tallest of the three figures. There were too many things all wrong about this. The tall searcher suddenly moved through a beam of light, and his face was illuminated. Peter saw a flash of a familiar arching eyebrow, and the unmistakable curve of a pointed ear.
Valdyr took deadly aim at the stocky male who was now almost on top of them. Peter lurched, grabbed her firing hand, and called, “Valdyr, no!”
She turned to him, her face twisted in confusion. The three stealthy figures turned in unison toward the sound. Peter surged to his feet, distantly hearing the Klingon woman’s shocked growl. She clutched at him, attempting to pull him down, but he yanked free and bolted away, trying to get clear of the crates. “Uncle Jim!” he called softly. “It’s me! Peter!”
“Peter?” Kirk halted on the pavement, staring wildly around until he spotted his nephew. “Peter!”
The young Kirk launched himself at his relative, and Jim seized his nephew in a bear hug, nearly lifting the taller man off the ground. They pounded each other’s backs until they wheezed, grinning wildly.
“Gentlemen, I hate to intrude.” Spock’s cool tones cut across their emotional give-and-take. “However, if we are to effect our escape, we must not lose any time.”
“I’m with Spock on that, Jim,” Leonard McCoy agreed, glancing furtively around. “We can’t afford to get caught now.”
“Right,” Kirk said, stepping back and regarding Peter fondly. Then the cadet watched his uncle’s expression change to surprise, then alarm.
Peter turned to see Valdyr cautiously emerging from behind the stacks of crates. She was still clutching the disrupter. All three men wheeled in her direction, even as Jim Kirk’s hand dropped to his phaser.
“No, Jim! Wait! She’s with me! That is…” He paused, collected his wits as all three men glanced between him and the Klingon woman. He walked over to the crates and took Valdyr by the arm. He murmured to her, “Tim
e to holster the weapon.” Then, leading her somewhat reluctantly to the small group, he introduced her. “Captain James T. Kirk, Dr. Leonard McCoy, Captain Spock…this is Valdyr. I wouldn’t be here without her. She helped me escape. She’s…on our side.” Peter trailed off, his face growing hot. The captain stared at his nephew, as if wanting to be sure he meant what he said.
“So,” Valdyr said, eyeing the senior Kirk up and down, “this is the famous legend?”
The captain looked slightly abashed. “Well…Iam out of uniform…. ”
“I presume she provided you with the Klingon robe,” Spock asked, reaching over to pull an object from it, “and the tracer?”
Peter nodded.
The Vulcan examined the device. “Yes. Here is the cause of those confusing tricorder readings. It very nearly kept us from locating you.”
“It kept Kamarag’s men from finding us, as well,” Peter explained while Valdyr glowered.
“I can well imagine,” Spock agreed dryly. “It is fortunate that Federation technology is more advanced than…”
McCoy elbowed Spock, and the Vulcan abruptly fell silent. The doctor stepped smoothly into the breach, all his Southern courtliness in evidence. “Well, if you’ve been helpin’ Peter out, miss, we’re all mighty grateful. Aren’t we, Jim?”
Kirk paused for a second, then finally said quietly, “Of course we are. Thank you for helping Peter. For…” He glanced quizzically at his nephew. “…everything…. ”
“Not to belabor Spock’s point,” McCoy added, “but it’s time we got ourselves out of here.”
Peter gave him a sharp glance. “Valdyr’s coming with us. Where’s your ship?”
Before Jim could say anything, Spock cleared his throat. “We…are currently without one.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “So westill have to steal a ship? That’s where we were at before you showed up!”
“Miss…Valdyr,” McCoy said, still exuding polite charm, “do you know the layout of this spaceport?”
“The commercial freighters and off-world vessels are on that side,” she said, pointing southwest, “and the military vessels are in a shielded underground hangar—to protect them from meteor showers—over there.” She pointed in the opposite direction.
“I was hoping to find a freighter,” Peter said.
“Forget that,” Kirk told him. “We’re going to need something with a cloaking device if we hope to get out of here in one piece. A bird-of-prey should do the job nicely.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open.Is he crazy? But Valdyr nodded in agreement. “My uncle’s men will not expect us to go for a ship that would be impossible for two people to pilot.”
“Youruncle…?” Jim Kirk said.
Peter sighed and nodded. “Her uncle is Kamarag.”
None of the three Federation officers said anything for another long moment while Valdyr drew herself up stiffly. Peter wondered if any human male in history ever had such an uncomfortable family introduction.
The entire group climbed back into the crowded vehicle and turned toward the manned gate half a kilometer away that was the entrance to the military side of the spaceport. They drove toward a cluster of outbuildings until Valdyr directed them into a convenient alley. They were able to position the vehicle so that the gate was within sight, while keeping the groundcar in darkness. The group huddled inside began to confer.
“There are two guards,” Valdyr told them.
“We can handle that,” Kirk said, touching his pocket. “We’re armed. Phasers on stun.” Spock, McCoy, and Kirk drew their weapons. “Spock and I will move along the fence line…. ”
“Jim,” McCoy interrupted, “you’ll be out in the open. Don’t you think they’ll see you?”
Kirk gazed out of the vehicle, mulling over options.
“The chances of our approaching the guards without being seen,” Spock informed him, “are approximately…”
“Spare me,” McCoy groaned.
The Vulcan raised a surprised eyebrow.
“There is a simpler way,” Valdyr said suddenly, with a sigh. “If your weapon can stun, then give one to me. I can approach the guards as if I were—how do you say it?—ahelpless woman.” She glowered at Peter, who only smiled back at her. “They will not be expecting trouble from one as small as myself. When I am close to them they will be easy to stun, and there will be no chance of them sounding an alarm.”
Kirk nodded and Spock handed his weapon over to the Klingon female. When she was out of the vehicle, Kirk regarded his nephew. “Youdo trust her, Peter?”
Peter nodded. “Valdyr has not only given up everything—including herheritage —to save my life, but, I…I’m in love with her!” He took a deep breath.
The sudden silence in the car was shocking. McCoy’s eyebrows had climbed to his hairline, while Spock began an intense examination of the vehicle’s interior. Kirk gaped at his nephew. Peter swallowed. He had wanted to find the perfect moment to discuss this with Jim; he hadn’t meant to just blurt it out in front ofeveryone.
“Does she know that?” the captain finally asked quietly.
Peter shook his head. “She knows…I care for her. I know she cares for me. We really haven’t had the time or opportunity to have the kind of meaningful discussions people like to have in a developing relationship.”
There was another uncomfortable pause, and then Spock interrupted: “She is at the gate.”
The four men watched the Klingon woman as she sauntered up to the two guards, twitching portions of her compact form provocatively. One of them started grinning as soon as he saw her. Peter found himself wondering how one actedsexy while wearing armor…but, in a flash of insight, he realized that the armor itself was exciting for Klingon males! Whatever Valdyr was saying to the two guards made both of them focus on her, and lose all interest in their post. This small spaceport must not see many problems, he imagined. No doubt these two men spent most of their time bored and restless.
Suddenly, Valdyr arched her back, stared up at the closest guard, and bared her teeth. He grabbed her by the hair and tried to yank her over to him, even as the other one grabbed her, pressed himself against her, and bent his head to her neck. Peter’s temper flared and his hand had grabbed the handle of the car door when Spock’s reasonable voice intruded. “Wait,” the Vulcan cautioned. “One moment…”
No sooner did he say that than the two Klingon guards suddenly looked amazed, then crumpled to the ground. Valdyr grimaced, spat on the one who had clutched her, and then matter-of-factly grabbed the closest by the heels and began struggling to wrestle him into the guard station.
“That’s our cue!” Jim announced, and opened the vehicle’s doors.
At the gate, Spock lifted one of the unconscious Klingons effortlessly and arranged him at his station inside the small building, while the captain and McCoy struggled with the other one.
Peter grabbed Valdyr by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“Uuughh!” she grunted. “I had to let thoseveQ-nuj handle me. I’m sorry now I didn’t just kill them!”
“Valdyr…” Peter said warningly. She gave him a knowing look, then handed Spock back his phaser.
Suddenly, a mechanical whine intruded, and the entire party turned to look out the windows at the source of the sound. Feeling a rumble beneath his feet, Peter glanced over at a portion of the pavement that was rising into the air, like a huge trapdoor. Distant figures surrounded a small vessel that was on the platform rising up level with the landing field.
“Looks like a miniature bird-of-prey,” Kirk said.
“That is essentially what it is,” Valdyr confirmed. “A small, armed shuttle, very fast and maneuverable, it usually has a crew of three to six.”
“I’d say that’s exactly what the doctor ordered,” McCoy said, “if only we could get to it.”
Peter shook his head. “Forget it. I can see at least three crew members out there, as well as four maintenance staff. We wouldn’t have a prayer of swiping
that ship.”
Kirk sighed. “Probably not,” he admitted. But the expression on his uncle’s face said otherwise.
“Ahelpless woman will not get you that ship,” Valdyr warned.
“No,” Jim agreed. “And if we try to take out the crewand the maintenance staff, even with three hand phasers and two disrupters against all of them, we’d be spread awfully thin. It would be hard to get close enough to stun them. These little jobs don’t have much range.”
Valdyr lifted her head proudly as the captain casually included her.
Jim continued to eye the ship speculatively. “It’ll be tough enough just taking off, much less avoiding pursuit and setting a course that will bypass that ring…. ”
“What he’s sayin’, miss,” McCoy translated for the Klingon woman, “is that we’re goin’ for it, soon as he finishes tellin’ us how impossible it is!”
Suddenly, an alarm began to whoop. The crew near the ship looked up, and automatically the fugitives ducked so that they wouldn’t be seen through the guardhouse windows. Valdyr pointed excitedly through the front windows, toward the automatic gate she and Peter had entered with their coded disks.
Several vehicles had just arrived, and armed Klingons, small in the distance, were aiming heavy disrupter rifles at the gate with its blaring alarm. Suddenly, the gate blew apart, its metal structure screaming, its beams and support hardware twisting and shattering. The Klingons poured through the perimeter, over the blasted chunks of debris that had been the entrance.
“Karg’s men!” the Klingon woman said. “They have finally traced us.”
“Karg must’ve decided that they couldn’t capture us undetected, so they’re staging an all-out assault!” Peter agreed.
The warriors surrounding the small bird-of-prey had noticed the invasion, too, and were pointing at the running figures.
“Stay down!” Valdyr ordered everyone. “Don’t let them see you!” Tossing her disrupter at Peter, she leapt out of the guardhouse, brandishing her dagger. In Klingonese, she shouted at the men guarding the small bird-of-prey. “Enemies have come to steal your vessel! Defend yourselves!” Waving her weapon at the ship, she beckoned the crew. With a roar, the ship’s crew members drew their own weapons and charged forward to confront the invaders. With a mighty yell, Valdyr raced toward Karg’s troops, and the soldiers from the ship followed her blindly.
