by Dayton Ward
“I should be tired,” she said after another minute spent in silence. She and Sarek had traversed the salt flats in broad daylight, but she felt neither fatigue nor thirst. Now the desolate expanse had given way to lush forest at the base of the mountains that had been their destination, and she felt as fresh as after a good night’s sleep. Though her body seemed to be weathering the exertion, her mind certainly welcomed the idea of slumber.
That was likely not coming, at least until she and Sarek found shelter, so for now she rested. A few paces from her, his back to an adjacent tree and his hands clasped before him, Sarek knelt. She had been watching him for the past several minutes, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed as though in a deep meditative state. Only when his position shifted and he turned to look at her did she speak.
“How are you feeling, Ambassador?”
The Vulcan nodded. “I am well, thank you. I continue to experience no debilitating effects from our extended journey, which I find unusual and fascinating.”
Physically, Sarek was in prime condition, and Joanna knew that their trek across the salt plain would not have affected him to any significant degree even without whatever mysterious properties were assisting them here. Instead, she was concerned about his mental state. The infrequent, short bouts of seeming distraction had continued as they walked, as though Sarek were attempting without success to meditate. The occasional calls to his wife, almost under his breath, had stopped, but it was obvious to her that Amanda was not far from his thoughts. She did not want to disturb these periods of apparent somnambulism, which Joanna assumed the ambassador could maintain indefinitely, so she remained silent during their journey. Upon reaching the forest, with new obstacles to impede their travel, Sarek had returned to full awareness, even taking the lead and navigating a path through the undergrowth.
Rising to his feet, Sarek smoothed his robes. “If you are sufficiently rested, I am ready to continue.”
“Works for me.” Joanna pushed herself to her feet, the involuntary groan she released being more from habit than distress. After a moment to ascertain his bearings, Sarek set off into the forest and she followed, walking in the direction of the twin suns. For the first time, she noted that they seemed closer to the horizon, rather than appearing to remain fixed in the sky as they had during this extended walkabout.
As she had during their passage across the salt plains, Joanna allowed her mind to drift while they walked, in a desperate bid to combat boredom. Not for the first time, she noticed the distinct lack of ambient noise as they proceeded through the forest. She heard her own footfalls along the uneven ground as she stepped on grass or leaves or fallen branches, and likewise she noted her clothing brushing against branches as she maneuvered too close to a tree or shrub. Meanwhile, there was no breeze rustling the treetops, no birds or insects.
Weird.
Opting to break the odd silence as she had at irregular intervals throughout the day, she asked, “Still feeling all right, sir?”
Sarek replied, “I remain well. However, I have noticed that you inquire about my well-being each time you initiate conversation.”
A bit embarrassed, Joanna smiled. “I think it’s a habit I picked up in nursing school.” She shrugged. “Or maybe from my father. He’s a doctor.”
“Your father is Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer aboard the Starship Enterprise.”
“That’s right.” Joanna eyed the ambassador. “I don’t remember telling you that.”
“A logical assumption,” replied Sarek. “Besides what I gleaned from my own observations, you did introduce yourself as McCoy, and the Enterprise was in the Centaurus system at the time of the Romulan attack and our relocation to this place.”
“Good point.” She frowned. “Wait. Observations?”
“You exhibit mannerisms that are similar to those I recall seeing displayed by your father.”
That caught Joanna by surprise. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”
There was a small pause before Sarek said, “I was a patient under his care during a previous assignment that required me to travel aboard the Enterprise. His skills were most adequate.”
Joanna could not help a small chuckle. “Adequate? I know that’s probably high praise for a Vulcan, but I can imagine my father’s reaction to hearing something like that.” She laughed again. “I’d love to be around when he hears it.”
“You may share that with him upon our return.” Sarek said nothing for a few moments, and she once more fell into step behind him. His simple comment was enough to offer her at least some reassurance that they would indeed find a means of returning to Centaurus.
This situation is temporary. We’ll figure it out.
“Nurse McCoy,” said Sarek, his voice much lower in volume than before. He had also slowed his pace so that he once more was walking alongside her.
Instinctively, Joanna offered her reply in a softer volume. “What is it?”
“We are being followed.”
“What?” Noting the Vulcan’s demeanor, she forced herself not to begin looking around in search of anyone or anything who might be lurking in the vicinity. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I estimate three to five life-forms have been moving with us, maneuvering among the tree canopy.”
Despite her initial attempt at self-control, Joanna could not stop herself from looking up to the trees towering above them. She saw nothing to indicate anyone following them or staring at them. “What should we do?”
Sarek seemed to ponder this for a moment before saying, “I believe it is to our advantage to engage them sooner rather than later, particularly if darkness is coming.”
“Sounds like a plan.” When the ambassador said nothing else, Joanna asked, “Do we just shout at them to come out, come out, wherever they are?”
“A simple yet efficient course of action.” Halting his advance through the forest, he turned back the way they had come and directed his attention to the trees. “Greetings,” he called out in a loud voice. “We mean you no harm. We are lost and would appreciate assistance. I assure you, we carry no weapons.”
Wincing at the bold admission, Joanna said in a hushed voice, “You didn’t have to tell them that.”
Sarek seemed unfazed by her remark. “It is the truth, although I am proceeding from the assumption that whoever or whatever follows us understands what we are saying. Regardless, honesty may well be the wise course.”
“Always the diplomat?”
“You are correct.”
Behind them, something heavy landed on the ground, and Joanna turned to see a lithe, long-limbed humanoid standing before her. His tanned skin was unadorned and nearly free from garments, and his hair was a shade of jade green that blended with the surrounding vegetation. He studied her and Sarek, his body tense as he shifted his feet, which Joanna noticed were bare and very similar in form to his hands, complete with opposable thumbs. Before she could say anything, more of the humanoids, similar in appearance to the first new arrival, dropped from the trees. They landed with grace, each of them wielding a stone-tipped spear.
“Um, hello,” Joanna offered. The humanoid did not respond, but instead stared at her. His sole reaction to her words was to blink.
Speaking in a tone Joanna hoped their apparent stalkers would not find alarming, the ambassador said, “I am Sarek of Vulcan. This is Joanna of Earth. Can you understand me?”
To Joanna’s surprise, the first humanoid nodded. “Yes, we understand.” He gestured to the surrounding forest. “Are there others?”
“There may be others, yes,” Sarek said, “but none with us now. We are new here, and we seek out others like us. Have you seen such beings?”
“Perhaps,” replied the humanoid.
Joanna asked, “Do you have a name?”
Bringing himself up to his full height, the humanoid raised his hands to indic
ate himself. “I am Feneb, Ranger of the Usildar.” Once more, he gestured to the forest. “The trees are our home now.”
“Thank you for letting us travel through your home,” she said.
“The others we seek look like us,” added Sarek. “Have you seen them?”
Appearing to relax, Feneb replied, “We have. We travel with them. One is a very brave warrior and fights with us. He seeks others like him, and like you. So, we will honor his request and bring you to him.”
“That is very kind of you,” Sarek said. “Thank you.”
Feneb clapped his hands three times, and Joanna watched as his companions began climbing the nearby trees, disappearing into the foliage. Feneb, however, did not follow.
“I will guide you.”
Sarek nodded. “We are grateful for your assistance.”
Matching the ambassador’s stride as they followed Feneb deeper into the forest, Joanna could not help stealing glances into the treetops. Now that she knew what to look for, she was able to spot the other humanoids moving among the tree canopy. What had Feneb called them? Usildar?
“Feneb,” said Sarek after a moment, “has this always been your home?”
“No. My people are of Usilde, not this place. Brought here we were, by the Newcomers, the Jatohr. They seek to control us, on Usilde and here. We fight to remain free.”
“A noble effort,” replied the Vulcan.
Feneb grunted in what Joanna interpreted as agreement. “Your people, your friends, they have spoken such words, but we cannot defeat the Jatohr. They are many in number, and their weapons are powerful. So, we hide. We strike when we must. All we want is to live in peace. We want Usilde but we will accept this world. Why must they take both?”
The question hung unanswered as shrieks of alarm drifted to them from somewhere farther ahead.
Feneb seemed to recognize the odd sound. He glanced up as if he wanted to take to the trees for speed and safety, but he remained on the ground. Then he gestured for them to follow him.
“Come,” he said, calling out over his shoulder as he began running. “Hurry.”
Now dashing through the forest, Joanna split her attention between Feneb, Sarek, and the uneven ground ahead of her. A rut or tree root here might twist an ankle or even inflict more serious injury, but both Feneb and Sarek seemed to run with no concern for such things.
She flinched as an anguished cry of frustration and rage pierced the forest air. Ahead of them, she saw Feneb coming abreast of something lying on the ground and realized it was another humanoid form, but it was not Usildar. It took her a moment to see that the being was wearing a blue Starfleet tunic and dark uniform trousers.
“What happened?” She lunged toward the unmoving person who appeared to be a human male. Drawing closer to Feneb, she said, “Let me help!”
All but ignoring her, Feneb laid his hands on the human’s chest. “Dylan-friend!”
He shifted to one side, allowing her to get closer to the fallen man, but Joanna saw that the victim was beyond help. Lying on his back, his gaze was fixed and the tip of his tongue protruded from his mouth. His open, unseeing eyes were streaked from hemorrhaging, and the purplish pallor of his skin denoted obvious internal bleeding. His chest seemed sunken, and Joanna pressed two tentative fingers against his rib cage, which yielded to her touch.“My god,” she whispered. “It’s like something crushed him.”
“Nurse McCoy,” said a voice over her shoulder, and Joanna looked up to see Sarek standing behind and to her left. He was pointing at something even farther ahead, among the trees. She looked in that direction and saw three of Feneb’s Usildar companions standing at the crest of a low rise, hovering over what looked to be five additional bodies.
All but one of them wore Starfleet uniforms. The other corpse was an Izarian male dressed in civilian attire.
“No!”
She shouted the single word with such force that it startled Feneb and the other Usildar. Moving to join them, Joanna surveyed the victims. Each appeared to have suffered the same ghastly, unknown fate. One of the victims, a woman clad in a red tunic and dark trousers, also had burn marks on her face and hands. Feeling her breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps, Joanna stepped away from the scene and put her hand to her mouth.
“Our friends,” said Feneb. “Your friends. They are no more.”
“Who were they?” asked Joanna. “Where did they come from?”
Sarek shook his head. “It is impossible to be certain. However, there is at least one curiosity.” He pointed to one of the victims. “These are Starfleet uniforms, but of a type that is no longer used. This style was replaced some years ago by the current version.”
“I would’ve never picked up on that,” replied Joanna. “They all look the same to me. It still doesn’t tell us who they were or how they came to be here.”
“Feneb!”
Looking away from the victims, Joanna saw another of the Usildar waving toward them. He was gesturing at something beyond the rise that they could not see.
“Come! The fight continues! The warrior is ahead!”
“What fight?” asked Joanna, but the question was forgotten as Feneb and Sarek began moving toward the rise even as the other Usildar returned to the trees. The rustle of branches bowing beneath weight and motion was the only thing belying their movements before they disappeared altogether.
Joanna continued to chase after Feneb and Sarek, and as she advanced toward a clearing she could hear voices shouting along with the sounds of movement and perhaps things colliding with other things. By the time she caught up with the ambassador and the Usildar Ranger, the pair had reached the edge of a clearing, and she got her first look at what lay beyond.
What the hell?
Some distance ahead of them, a melee ensued.
Usildar bodies, more than Joanna could readily count, littered the open ground. Others were running and jumping amid their fallen comrades, throwing spears and rocks and whatever else they could use as weapons. Their enemy appeared to be numerous hulking masses clad in what Joanna thought might be opalescent armored shells.
“They’re giant slugs,” she said aloud, not really caring who might hear her.
Two of the amorphous blobs were lying motionless and unattended while another pair fended off a handful of Usildar each. Despite their size and bulk, the slugs moved with surprising speed, defending against the Usildar’s multipronged attacks. On the distant side of the clearing, another sizable armored gastropod was positioned at the controls of what Joanna took to be some sort of antigravity sled. The vehicle was hovering over the ground, green beams of energy lancing across the glade from an emitter at its front. One of the beams struck an Usildar fighter, arresting his movements before dropping him to the ground. To her right, another Usildar leaped from an overhead tree branch onto the sled, attempting to take its control handles from the pilot.
Joanna’s eyes widened in fright as she tried to process the scene unfolding before her. “What are those things?”
“I do not recognize the species,” replied Sarek. “Feneb, are these the Jatohr you spoke of?”
The Usildar nodded. “Yes. The Newcomers who took our home from us.” He pointed to the battle. “I must go. I must fight.”
“Wait,” said Sarek. “We have no weapons. It would be illogical to proceed into battle unarmed.”
Feneb growled, pointing to his fellow Usildar littering the glade. “I will take up the weapons of my people.”
More movement from the field attracted Joanna’s attention, and she could not help the gasp that escaped her lips. Without thinking, she grabbed Sarek’s arm and pointed.
“Ambassador!”
In the midst of the skirmish, another figure had come into view. Standing head and shoulders above the Usildar, the humanoid was running toward the sled, which Joanna saw had been taken from its Jat
ohr pilot. Dressed in soiled, torn white robes, the new figure screamed in savage delight as the sled listed to one side and nosed into the ground. The crash tossed the Jatohr from its controls, but the Usildar who had hijacked it maintained his footing and stayed aboard. The new fighter stopped, raising a broad, bladed weapon above his head.
“The tide of battle turns! Now we take the fight to them!”
It was a Klingon.
“Councillor Gorkon,” said Sarek.
Joanna stared in disbelief at the ambassador. “You know him?”
“Indeed I do. Fascinating.”
Across the glade, the remaining Jatohr appeared to be retreating, with numerous Usildar giving chase. Standing before the antigrav sled, Gorkon lowered his weapon. Then, as though sensing he was being watched, he turned until Joanna could see his face. The Klingon smiled before releasing a loud, raucous laugh.
“Sarek!” Once more, he raised his blade, pointing it at the ambassador even as his smile widened. “Just like a Vulcan to show up once the fighting is over.” Stepping away from the sled, he made his way across the open ground toward them. “It is good to see you, Ambassador.”
Nodding, Sarek replied, “It is good to see you as well, Councillor, though I confess to not understanding how you came to be a part of this battle.”
“It is a glorious tale,” replied the Klingon. “One I’m happy to share over a fine meal, provided we can scrounge up something worthy of a warrior’s stomach.”
Joanna shook her head, still trying to absorb everything. “Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks this is all just a little too crazy. Better yet, somebody just wake me up and tell me I’m dreaming and that I’m late for class.”
