Purgatory's Key

by Dayton Ward

  Visla glared at D’jorok. “You are arresting me? What then? Offer me as a gift to the Earthers? That is your vengeance for your fallen captain?” She saw his hand tighten on the grip of his disruptor, and she was certain a flicker of anger crossed his dark eyes, but that was the extent of his reaction to her verbal jab.

  “My personal preference is to kill you where you stand,” he said, “but I am a soldier of the Empire, sworn to obey no matter how unpleasant that duty may be. You and the remaining crew from your ship will be delivered to the captain of whichever vessel arrives to assist us.”

  “Give in to your urges. Kill me.” Thoughts of her son clouded her mind. K’tovel, along with the other HoS’leth survivors, still waited for her on Centaurus. How much time would pass before she saw him again? What would become of him once she met whatever fate awaited her?

  D’jorok replied, “I am well aware of your family’s dishonor. I can even understand you wanting to reclaim that which you thought was wrongly taken from you, but your actions here were not justified. We have paid a heavy price for your bloodlust, and we have nothing to show for it. Now we must ask for help from the Earthers. I would rather die than do that, but it will be worth it if I live long enough to see you thrown into the deepest, darkest hole in the Empire.”

  Shaking her head, Visla almost gave in to her urge to spit at him. “You are no less a coward than your captain. It disgusts me even to look at you.” The very idea of surrendering to this insignificant pujwl’ was loathsome to every atom of her being.

  D’jorok remained silent for several moments, and the two of them stared at each other along the length of his disruptor. Then his expression seemed to soften.

  “Perhaps you should have killed me when you killed my captain.”

  Snarling, Visla nodded. “Yes.”

  Without another word, D’jorok smiled and lowered his disruptor to his side.

  “Commander?” said one of his officers.

  Neither Visla nor D’jorok looked to the source, each keeping their gaze locked on the other. It was obvious to her what he was doing, leaving himself exposed to her attack. Something in his eyes had changed, and now she was certain he had no intention of fulfilling whatever duty or obligation had kept her alive to this point. From somewhere in the depths of whatever passed for his coward’s heart, D’jorok had summoned enough loyalty and devotion to his dead captain that he now openly challenged her on the bridge of his ship and in full view of his subordinates.

  Only one option remains.

  Visla reached for the disruptor on her hip, but even as her hand wrapped around the weapon’s grip, she saw the harsh orange flash as D’jorok fired.

  Thirty-five

  Standing at the entrance to the mining camp, Kirk listened and noted the relative quiet. What had been a thriving hub of forced labor was now still. The machines and other equipment were silent, the mines had been emptied of their workers, and most of the dormitories that had housed captive Usildar were abandoned. For the first time in decades, the people who called this planet home answered to no one, and neither were they forced to live with the constant interference or reminders of their oppression. They had wasted no time acting on that freedom, throwing off the figurative and literal shackles of their oppressors and even now were plundering both the mining compound and nearby Klingon encampment. The process would take days, but the Usildar now had nothing but time.

  And maybe we can help speed things up a bit.

  A transporter beam sounded behind him, and Kirk turned to see a lone figure coalescing into existence. It did not take long for him to recognize Spock as the Vulcan’s body solidified and the beam faded. Kirk noted that his friend wore a tricorder slung from his left shoulder, but like him carried no phaser. The need for weapons had thankfully passed.

  “Captain,” Spock said, by way of greeting.

  Kirk nodded. “Mister Spock. I didn’t expect to see you down here so soon. How are your parents?”

  “Doctor McCoy reports that they both will make complete recoveries. My mother is resting in guest quarters while my father already transported to the surface with Councillor Gorkon.”

  Surprised to hear that, Kirk said, “Already? I would’ve thought he’d take a little time, particularly with your mother also recuperating.”

  “You have met my father, Captain,” replied Spock. “Surely you recall that he is not prone to long periods of convalescence.”

  The deadpan comment made Kirk chuckle. “Point taken. As long as he’s feeling up to it, we can certainly use his help. There’s going to be a lot to do here. Speaking of that, what’s the latest with the Usildar?” He gestured toward the mining camp. “How are our friends? At least I hope we can call them that.”

  “Commander Giotto reports that all Usildar laborers have been freed at all locations,” replied the first officer. “The Usildar know they are free to make use of any of the facilities and equipment left by the Jatohr and the ­Klingons, though most are electing to return to their homes, and many families are banding together to create temporary shelters until new homes can be constructed.”

  “What about our own shelters and other supplies?” asked Kirk, glancing to his friend. “Where are we on that?”

  Stepping closer, Spock replied, “Lieutenant Uhura reports that engineering and supply teams will have deployed our entire complement of emergency shelters at the location for the new Usilde village as well as the surrounding areas by nightfall. She adds that Captain Blair and the Defiant are adding their supplies to that effort. The Usildar have been most welcoming of the assistance.”

  “Excellent. It’s the least we can do.”

  Upon their release, many of the Usildar had asked to be relocated to the site of their original village, much of which had fallen to disrepair and destruction thanks to the actions of their former Jatohr and Klingon masters. An Enterprise survey team had concluded that the area would be usable once debris and other waste were cleared to make room for new construction. With the arrival of the Defiant just hours earlier, there now were two starships’ worth of personnel to assist the liberated Usildar in establishing new villages throughout the region, at least until the Enterprise’s scheduled departure.

  Kirk still could see individual and small groups of Usildar moving about the compound, their darkly tanned skin and bright, jade hair contrasting with the encampment’s darkened, polluted gray soil. Even from this removed vantage point, he recognized that they carried themselves with new purpose. Stacks and piles of cargo containers, building materials, and other items were being staged at different points around the camp. According to the reports from Enterprise security and survey teams, the Klingons, in their haste to depart Usilde, had apparently left all but the most essential or sensitive equipment, abandoning everything else. Much within the compound would be of value to the Usildar, along with the assistance that soon would be provided by the Federation. To Kirk’s eye, there was enough materiel to rebuild and expand the nearby village. Such supplies would be augmented first from the shipboard stores of the Enterprise and the Defiant, followed later by more comprehensive shipments as Starfleet dispatched dedicated engineering and colony support staff to the planet.

  Resettling the Usildar and helping them get back on their feet and readjust in the wake of their liberation from Klingon rule would take time. Then there was the work necessary to undo the harmful effects of the Jatohr’s terra­forming, both the extended effort here on the surface as well as the limited contamination of the planet’s atmosphere. The damage from the combined endeavor, though extensive, was not irreversible, and some of the best minds in Starfleet and the Federation were already en route to Usilde to lend their expertise to what was sure to be a lengthy recovery operation.

  “As for the Jatohr who were stranded in our universe after the citadel’s destruction,” said Spock, “many of them remain disoriented following the transfer from t
heir universe. Doctor McCoy has requested assistance from Starfleet Medical, and a team of xenobiology specialists is now en route. In the meantime, Mister Giotto reports that they also have been resettled here in the camp. His counter­part from the Defiant has already established a security rotation to oversee our guests.”

  Kirk nodded at the report. Though a few Jatohr had attempted to stand against the security team he had sent from the Enterprise, the majority of them had offered no resistance. A team from the starship’s sociological department had transported to the planet surface and taken the lead on communicating with the displaced aliens, attempting to convince the Jatohr that all would be done to aid in their acclimation to this universe.

  “According to the last message I received,” said Kirk, “a colony support and relocation team is part of the group Starfleet’s sending out to us. They should be here in a couple of days.” Though the Enterprise was due to depart the Libros system to Starbase 6 for much-needed repairs, the Defiant would remain in orbit and with personnel here on the surface to assist the Usildar and the Jatohr, and handle the transition to the dedicated support team that would establish a long-term outpost here. The plan was for the group of Starfleet and Federation civilian engineering, science, medical, terraforming, and colony support specialists to remain here on the planet until the Usilde were completely resettled and as much of the damage inflicted upon them and their world was treated or reversed. Then there was the matter of the stranded Jatohr, who also would need a home. None of this was a simple proposition by any means, but Kirk knew the Federation and Starfleet would devote the required resources and people until the task was completed. The Usildar deserved nothing less, and even the Jatohr could not be dismissed, despite the bizarre circumstances that had brought them here.

  It’s what we do.

  “Captain Kirk!”

  Kirk heard the voice just before he detected movement beyond where Spock stood, and he looked past the Vulcan to see Lieutenant Sulu approaching, along with a trio of Usildar. The small party was making its way along the narrow footpath cut into the side of the hill on this side of the valley. Kirk eyed the Usildar walking alongside Sulu, guessing him to be the apparent leader of the village, or what remained of it. He was using a polished staff as a cane, and Kirk noted that he walked with a limp. Kirk thought his clothing seemed ceremonial, including the ornate, carved wooden helmet adorned with polished seed shells.

  “Captain,” said the Usildar as the group moved to stand before Kirk. “I am Onumes, and I speak for all you helped free. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

  “The honor is mine, sir,” replied Kirk. “I must say, your people are very resilient. They seem to be adapting very quickly to their new situation.”

  “We are a simple people, Captain. The world around us provides all we require, and we take from it only what we need.” His expression faltering, Onumes cast his gaze toward the mining camp. “It is a pity others do not share such harmony with whatever world they call home, and are therefore forced to plunder the homes of others.”

  Kirk nodded. “It’s not an uncommon story. We had to learn that same lesson ourselves, a long time ago.”

  “I am told that you can help us return our world to what it was before the Newcomers came. You can change the soil and the water as they did, but not hurt it. You can clean the air?”

  “That’s right. We have people who are well-trained in such methods.” He gestured to Sulu. “In fact, my crew has been working on just such a measure to help you. Lieutenant?”

  The helm officer cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, that’s right.” To Onumes, he said, “We’ve been researching the Jatohr terraforming efforts. The ecological considerations here are unique, due to the influence of the Jatohr’s techniques and their origin from the other universe, but given enough time and working with our own terraforming experts, we think we have a means of reversing the effects without causing any further damage. I’ve already transmitted my findings to Starfleet Command, and our research divisions are going over our data. By the time the first terra­forming teams arrive, they should have a better idea of the work involved.”

  “It will take some time, but when it’s finished,” added Kirk, “your world will be as it was before the Newcomers arrived. That’s a promise, sir.”

  Onumes asked, “And your people will leave us?”

  “If that’s what you want, then yes. We’ll leave you in peace and never return, if that’s your wish.”

  The Usildar leader seemed to ponder this for a moment before responding, “There are those among my people who would be pleased with that. However, I feel that is not the best course. We should be welcoming of friends, and you have more than proven yourselves as such. It is my hope that we can extend that friendship.”

  “I hope for that, as well,” replied Kirk.

  “And what of the Newcomers?” asked Onumes. “Those who remain here after the destruction of their citadel; what is to become of them?”

  Kirk sighed. “That’s a very good question, and I don’t know if the answers are simple. They need to be relocated, of course.”

  “Ideally, they can be moved to a world that is better-suited to their form of life,” added Spock, “or that requires only a minimum of ecological modifications to better support them. Starfleet is studying the issue and will hopefully have an answer in the near future.”

  “Until then,” Kirk said, “We’d like to keep them here, at least until we have a relocation plan in place.” He indicated the mining camp with a wave. “We can make use of these facilities to shelter them and ensure they’re treated well.”

  Onumes replied, “We have discussed this with your ambassador.” He gestured to Spock. “The one who looks like you. He said that there would be measures taken to ensure security and peace between our two peoples until the Newcomers can be moved. We have agreed to honor his request.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” said Kirk. “Thank you.”

  “We understand that their reasons for being here were not malicious,” said the Usildar leader. “It is unfortunate that their forms are not harmonious with our world as it was, and as it once again will be. We would have welcomed them.”

  Kirk smiled in genuine admiration. If Onumes was representative of all Usildar, then these were people of tremendous strength and character. It was regrettable that the tranquility of their existence had been disrupted by the Jatohr and the Klingons and even the Federation. That could not be undone, but at least now the Federation could see to it that the damage inflicted here was healed and the Usildar left in peace. Still, their innocence had been shattered, and they now were aware of other civilizations among the stars who might seek to do them harm. It would fall to the Federation to see to it that the Usildar were once more afforded the opportunity to live their lives as they saw fit.

  That doesn’t seem like too much to ask, does it?

  After accepting Sulu’s invitation to join him, Onumes excused himself, following the lieutenant back down the path to the Usildar village and the lake that had served as the citadel’s decades-long home. Kirk smiled as Sulu’s animated descriptions of the terraforming techniques that would restore the lake and the surrounding areas to its former beauty echoed through the trees even after the pair disappeared from sight.

  “Sometimes I wonder if Sulu made a mistake,” said Kirk, “switching from the sciences to operations.”

  Spock replied, “Mister Sulu is a man of many talents.”

  Proceeding farther into the encampment, it did not take long for Kirk and Spock to find the set of dormitory buildings that had been selected to house the dozens of displaced Jatohr.

  “Per your orders,” said Spock, “the Jatohr are not being confined, and they have agreed to remain in the compound until such time as we enable a relocation plan. Also, Doctor McCoy and the Defiant’s chief medical officer have researched Jatohr dietary req
uirements, and the galley staffs from both ships are working to provide an ample food supply.”

  Kirk nodded. “Good. There’s no reason they can’t be as comfortable as possible and practical until we can figure out what to do with them.” He sighed. “Of course, I know that’s an unpopular opinion right now, both aboard ship and back at headquarters.”

  “It is fortunate that there were no deaths aboard the Enterprise or the Defiant as a consequence of the battle,” said Spock.

  “But there were casualties. There are those who think that’s something for which the Jatohr need to be punished.”

  “There are, of course, mitigating circumstances.”

  Kirk nodded, his gaze on the ground ahead of him. “I know. That’s why I’m glad your father is involved in making sure we get the best possible outcome for everyone involved in this entire mess.” Sensing movement ahead of him, Kirk looked up to see a small group walking toward them. Ambassador Sarek was crossing the mining camp’s open courtyard, accompanied by a single, bulky Jatohr escorted by one of the Enterprise’s security officers, Ensign Nick Minecci. “Speak of the devil.”

  “Captain,” said the ambassador, before raising his hand and offering the traditional Vulcan gesture of greeting.

  “Ambassador, it’s good to see you well.”

  Sarek nodded to his son, though maintained decorum for both their sakes. “Nurse McCoy’s timely intervention on my behalf played a large part in my treatment, along with the work of her father and Doctor M’Benga. They both are most efficient physicians, and I am grateful for the superb care they have given my wife and the other injured.”

  “Captain,” said Ensign Minecci, from where he stood next to his Jatohr charge, “Edolon has requested to speak with you.”