Star Trek: TOS: Allegiance in Exile

by David R. George III

  As the six crew members had spread out from the square onto the pedestrian thoroughfares that ran through the city, the first officer had noticed his reserve. At first, Costley attempted to joke with him about it, tried to draw him out, just as he’d taken to doing aboard ship. As the day wore on, though, Sulu perceived the first officer’s mounting frustration. As various crew members peeled away from the group to go off on their own, Costley stayed with him, but grew increasingly exasperated with his continued reticence. Sulu tried once to explain what occupied his mind, but he found it difficult enough to think about Trinh without also having to voice those thoughts.

  Eventually, Costley had left Sulu to his own devices. The first officer didn’t seem angry or upset when he did so, but genuinely concerned. Despite the short time that the two men had known each other, Costley seemed to understand that something troubled Sulu deeply, and he might have even suspected that it had in some way driven him from Enterprise. To that point, the first officer hadn’t asked about it, but Sulu worried that he might suddenly find himself ordered by Starfleet to consult a counselor.

  Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Sulu thought as he paced through Pillagra by himself. Maybe it could even help. He knew that one of the doctors aboard Courageous carried a specialty in psychiatry, and so he could avail himself of the opportunity to speak with her.

  Walking along without seeing much, mired in his remembrances of Trinh and in the guilt he still felt for not staying with her despite her protestations, Sulu saw little of Pillagra. Numerous Bajorans noted the presence of a visitor to their city and smiled in his direction when he passed, and he tried to be mindful of their graciousness and return it with a smile of his own. Although Sulu found smiling back at the Bajorans a relatively easy and natural act—they looked very much like humans, but for a series of small ridges at the tops of their noses—he had difficulty concentrating on the world around him, as opposed to the one within.

  When he rounded one corner, though, he noticed a spacious meadow bounded by occasional stands of trees. The park drew him in, and as he strolled across the grass, the landscape brought him back to the day on Dengella II when he and Trinh had flown the Vietnamese kite that they’d made together. The memory tasted both bitter and sweet, and Sulu wondered how—if—he would ever get past that portion of his life.

  I don’t want to get past it, he thought. I never wanted it to end.

  Several concrete benches dotted the park, and Sulu found one beneath a leafy tree. He sat down and leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and tried to see a clear way forward. He had continued to send messages to Trinh, but since last seeing her in the infirmary on Starbase 25, he had not heard back from her. He had to satisfy his hunger for information about Trinh with the few, often sketchy replies he sometimes received from her mother.

  I should resign my commission and just go to Mars, he thought. He could show up there, at the home of Nguyen Thi Yeh and demand to see the woman he still loved. Sulu knew Trinh, though, and he understood her strength of will. She would resist him, and for his own good.

  Alone on the bench in the park, Sulu shook his head. Had their roles been reversed, had he been the one permanently incapacitated, had he been the one given only months or years to live, how would he have reacted? Sulu told himself that he would have wanted Trinh by his side, but could he trust that, since that’s how he wanted her to feel? Would he really have accepted her staying with him as he descended inexorably to his death? Could he have done that to the woman he loved? He didn’t know.

  Maybe if I just go for a visit, Sulu thought. Would Trinh accept that? Would she—

  The twin tones of Sulu’s communicator sounded. He reached for the device and flipped open its cover. “Sulu here,” he said.

  “Lieutenant, this is Ensign Riordan.” Even in the communications officer’s few words, Sulu heard the urgency in his voice. “Captain Caulder is conducting an emergency recall of all personnel.”

  “What is it?” Sulu asked, rising to his feet. “What’s happened?”

  “We’ve detected a group of ships entering the system,” Riordan said. “Stand by for transport.”

  Sulu took a few steps forward, away from the bench on which he’d been sitting. “Standing by,” he said.

  He heard a familiar hum, and then a golden haze clouded his vision. The transporter effect swept him up in Pillagra, then set him down on Courageous. By the time he materialized, the ship had already gone to red alert.

  Sulu leaped from the platform and raced for the bridge.

  • • •

  “Five vessels closing fast,” said Lieutenant Rahda from the helm, where she peered into her targeting scanner. “Estimating arrival in five minutes, forty seconds.”

  In the command chair, Kirk fought the urge to ask about the identity of the vessels. His people knew their jobs, and they would tell him what he needed to know as soon as they found out themselves. But I already know, don’t I? Kirk thought. He feared that he did, given the destruction of the first two Bajoran colonies, and the presence of a third on the world below. He eyed the main viewscreen, which displayed the curve of the planet’s horizon. Courageous hung in orbit nearby, as did a number of Bajoran ships.

  “The vessels are of the same configuration as those we encountered in system R-Eight-Three-Six,” Spock said from his science station.

  “Red alert,” ordered Kirk, disturbed but not surprised by the report. The ship-wide klaxon immediately blared out its pulsing call to battle stations, and the rectangular signal lights around the bridge began flashing brightly. “Spock, are any of those ships the same ones that attacked us?”

  “Difficult to know with certainty,” said the first officer, “but two of the vessels show hull damage consistent with the Enterprise’s weapons.”

  “Uhura, hailing frequencies,” Kirk said, rising from the command chair.

  “Hailing frequencies open, sir,” Uhura replied at once. At the same time, the alert klaxon cut off, and Kirk knew she’d silenced it on the bridge.

  “This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise,” he said. “You are approaching a civilian population. You are warned to withdraw immediately, or we will open fire on you.” He glanced over his shoulder at Uhura, who had a hand raised to the silver earpiece she monitored. She gave a brisk shake of her head. He looked back at the viewscreen, mindful of the thousands of people living peacefully on the planet’s surface. “This is Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise,” he said again. “We have no desire to fight, but if you do not withdraw, we will fire on your vessels. Please respond.”

  “No reply, Captain,” Uhura said.

  “And no change in course or speed,” Rahda added.

  The captain turned and walked past the command chair, stepping up to the communications console. “Raise the Courageous,” Kirk ordered.

  Uhura operated her console with practiced skill. “You’re on, sir,” she said.

  “Enterprise to Courageous,” Kirk said.

  “Caulder here.”

  “Captain, our repeated attempts to hail the approaching vessels and warn them off are being ignored,” Kirk said. “The vessels are of the same configuration as those that attacked the Enterprise in system R-Eight-Three-Six.” Kirk knew that when Starfleet Command ordered Courageous on their mission, Caulder had been provided full reports on the Enterprise crew’s discoveries of the lost cities, as well as on their encounter with vessels like those headed in their direction.

  “What are your orders?” Caulder asked.

  “Captain, I know that the Courageous has a scientific mission profile,” Kirk said, “but we need all hands on deck. I have no doubt that those vessels out there intend to attack, with the ultimate goal of destroying Pillagra. We can’t let that happen.”

  “Understood,” Caulder said without hesitation.

  “Good luck, Captain,” Kirk said.

  “And you.”

  “Kirk out.” Then, looking to Uhura, he said,
“Notify the Bajoran governor.”

  “Aye, sir,” Uhura said.

  Kirk moved quickly over to the science station. “Recommendations, Spock?”

  “From our experience, we know that the alien vessels are extremely maneuverable,” said the first officer, “but their armaments are rudimentary, and their defenses do not measure up to ours.”

  “Hit them fast, then, and hard,” Kirk said.

  “Yes, sir,” Spock said. “I would also point out that the Bajoran support ships in orbit have virtually no weaponry of their own, and minimal defenses. They will make easy targets.”

  “We can’t send them out of the system unprotected,” Kirk said.

  “No, sir,” Spock agreed.

  Kirk nodded, understanding that he had few ways to protect the Bajoran ships. He turned back toward Uhura, whose skillful hands continued their dance across the communications panel, doubtless transmitting a report of the situation to Velura Sant. “Lieutenant,” Kirk said. Uhura looked up, but the captain noted that her fingers did not stop working her controls. “Broadcast a signal to all Bajoran ships in orbit. Have them descend to the planet’s surface at once.” He thought a moment, then added, “They should not land anywhere near Pillagra.” If the aliens intended to obliterate the Bajorans, Kirk would not make it easy for them.

  “Aye, sir,” Uhura said.

  “Contact in one minute,” Rahda said.

  “Break orbit,” Kirk said. He headed to the starboard steps and down to the center portion of the bridge, where he sat in the command chair. “Move to intercept. Full impulse, ready phasers and photon torpedoes.”

  “Bringing the ship about,” Rahda said, the thrum of the impulse engines rising. “Readying all weapons.”

  On the main screen, the planet fell away to port. Kirk caught a brief glimpse of Courageous also in motion, and then the view centered on a patch of stars. “Full magnification,” Kirk ordered. The image blinked, and the barest outlines of the black, blade-shaped vessels became visible, lined up horizontally on the screen. As the captain watched, four of them broke their formation, each moving off in different directions: up, down, port, and starboard. The fifth vessel continued forward on its linear course.

  Kirk leaped from the command chair and leaned in over the helm. “Rahda, target the closest vessel. The instant we’re in weapons range, open fire, phasers and photon torpedoes. Fire in a wide spray to counter evasive maneuvers.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “All five vessels have launched missiles,” Spock said. “They are targeting the Enterprise and the Courageous.”

  “Main phasers,” Kirk said. “Fire on the missiles until the vessels are in range.”

  “Firing phasers,” Rahda said. The feedback pulses of the ship’s weapons keened through the bridge, once, twice, half a dozen times, and more. On the view-screen, red beams streaked from Enterprise. Though Kirk could not clearly see the black missiles against the backdrop of space, the silent explosions of their destruction made for a welcome sight.

  “The vessels are launching missiles continually,” Spock said, explaining Rahda’s incessant firing. “Our phasers are obliterating them.”

  Even as Rahda operated her weapons subpanel, she looked into her targeting scanner. “First vessel entering range,” she said. The squawk of the ship’s phasers calmed for a moment, then resumed in force, joined by the beat of photon torpedoes being propelled into space. “Firing on the first vessel,” Rahda said, her voice steady.

  Kirk saw the image on the viewer swing around to follow a cone of phasers and photon torpedoes tracking one of the alien vessels. A torpedo found its mark and detonated, and the vessel veered quickly to one side, directly into a line of phaser fire. A burst of white light bloomed, then faded to nothingness.

  “Direct hit,” Rahda said. “The vessel has been destroyed.”

  The bridge suddenly shook. “Missile strike on the primary hull,” Spock said. “Minimal damage to the shields.”

  “Captain, two more vessels are in range,” Rahda said.

  “Ignore the missiles if necessary,” Kirk said, knowing that they posed little threat to the ship in the short term. “Concentrate on those vessels.”

  “Targeting,” Rahda said, even as Enterprise bucked under additional missile strikes.

  Both alien vessels appeared on the main view-screen, missiles firing out ahead of them. Suddenly, a salvo of Enterprise’s photon torpedoes spread across the screen. Great bursts of light and flame blazed momentarily into existence as missiles exploded in the line of fire. The vessels jockeyed in all directions, evading the torpedoes, but then multiple lines of phased red energy sprang from Enterprise. A phaser blast caught one of the ships, sending it twisting away, seemingly out of control. The other ship pursued a serpentine course, dodging the weapons fire. It dived down, and Rahda followed it with Enterprise’s phasers, but then it suddenly darted up and leaped forward, heading directly for the ship.

  Before he could bark an order, Enterprise rolled hard to port. Kirk was pitched in that direction, barely keeping his feet as the inertial dampers faltered for a fraction of a second. He looked back up in time to see the black ship filling the viewscreen. He braced himself for impact.

  It never came.

  “Firing phasers and photon torpedoes,” Rahda said, but already the sounds of Enterprise’s weapons filled the bridge.

  “Direct hit,” Spock said. “A second vessel has been destroyed.” He paused, then announced that Courageous had vanquished a third vessel.

  Kirk stepped back over to the helm and laid a hand on Rahda’s shoulder. “Excellent evasion, Lieutenant, and good shooting,” he said. Rahda glanced up briefly, then returned her attention to her controls. “Find the last two vessels,” Kirk told her. He turned and headed toward the main science console, though he remained on the lower, inner section of the bridge. “Spock,” he said, “they tried to ram us.”

  “I am at a loss to explain it,” Spock said. “They appear to be bent on destroying the Enterprise, no matter the cost to themselves.”

  “That doesn’t sound right, Spock,” the captain said. “We don’t even know who it is we’re battling.”

  “Captain,” Rahda called from the helm, and Kirk turned toward her. “The Courageous is engaging one ship, and I’ve tracked the other by a radiation leak it must have suffered when it took our phaser strike. Its engines appear to be off line, and it’s drifting.”

  “Take us to the Courageous,” Kirk said.

  “Aye, sir.”

  The captain looked back up at Spock, then mounted the steps to join him at his console. “Any hypotheses?” Kirk asked.

  “I have none,” Spock said. “Whoever is piloting those vessels seems obsessed with destroying us. From what we witnessed in the R-Seven-Seven-Five and R-Eight-Three-Six star systems, they seem focused on the Bajorans in the same way.”

  “But until a few days ago,” Kirk noted, “the Federation had never even had any contact with the Bajorans. It seems unlikely that there’s a connection.”

  “Perhaps we are the connection,” Spock said.

  “Explain.”

  “It is our belief that these aliens, whoever they are, destroyed the Bajoran colony called Gelladorn,” Spock said. “They then apparently constructed automated missile emplacements to further protect the planet, which they did when they detected our presence. We then destroyed those installations.

  “The aliens then apparently destroyed the Bajoran colony called Velat Nol,” Spock continued. “But they did not then build missile facilities.”

  “Perhaps because they didn’t have the time?” Kirk ventured, trying to follow his first officer’s reasoning.

  “Perhaps,” Spock said. “Or perhaps they lacked the materials, or the support, or some other vital component. But they did not lose interest in the planet, which they attempted to protect against our presence. Now, here again at Pillagra, we have appeared, this time in defense of the Bajorans.”

  “We
’ve made ourselves the enemy,” Kirk said.

  “By effectively allying ourselves with Bajoran colonists,” Spock said.

  Kirk wondered briefly if he had chosen the wrong side. Who knows what the Bajorans have done to incur the wrath of the aliens. That might be true, but the Enterprise crew had scanned Pillagra and detected no weapons, and though it could have been a deception, the Bajorans had seemed friendly and open during their days of meetings.

  “Captain,” Rahda said from the helm, “we are approaching the Courageous.”

  Kirk peered up at the viewscreen to see bright-red phaser beams streaking from the Miranda-class vessel and slicing through space toward one of the alien vessels, which darted to and fro. “Add our fire to theirs as soon as we’re in range,” Kirk said.

  But as Rahda acknowledged his order, Kirk saw the alien vessel streak up suddenly, then reverse direction and dive. The captain knew what would happen next, but was powerless to stop it. He watched in horror as the alien vessel crashed into Courageous.

  • • •

  “Fire phasers!” Captain Caulder ordered.

  At a peripheral engineering station, Sulu watched as one of the alien vessels bore down on Courageous. The red rays of the ship’s phasers shot out into space, seeking a target. The alien vessel flashed its impressive maneuverability, eluding the lethal streaks of energy.

  Suddenly, the alien vessel rushed upward. Intuition sent Sulu leaping to his feet. On the viewer, the alien vessel swung back down, avoiding the phaser blasts meant to stop it. Sulu turned toward the helm and opened his mouth to scream the words in his head: Hard over!

  But before he could utter a sound, the bridge of Courageous jolted violently. An unimaginable thunder ripped through the compartment, accompanied by the terrible plaints of rending metal. The lights darkened and control panels went black. The red alert klaxon shrieked one final call, and then even that stopped.

  • • •

  The front end of the alien vessel plowed through the upper decks on the starboard side of Courageous. Kirk saw sections of hull plating, loosed from the ship, turning end over end in space, blinking with the reflected light of the system’s star as it did so. He felt sick to his stomach.