“It’s not working,” said Kaleo.
“It will,” he insisted. “Trust me.” He took another breath, wincing at the sharp stabbing aches down his chest, and worked the panel, slowly bringing the disrupted signal pattern back into true. He heard Kaleo grunt as she ghosted his actions, and moment by agonizing moment, they began to recapture the vital synchronization.
The sound of the counter-wave pulses, until now a cacophony of noise that beat at his senses, slowly transformed into something more akin to a melody. Kirk suppressed a smile. Was it coincidence that Spock and Uhura’s shared creation of the signal had a harmonious component, given both of his officers’ musical skills? He made a mental note to ask the Vulcan about that if—no, when—they had pulled back from the brink of destruction.
“Deflector control!” called a familiar voice, filtering up from another intercom panel on the console in front of him. “Scott here! Captain Kirk, do you read me? What is your status?”
Kirk dared to shoot a look over his shoulder and saw a patch of glowing cherry-red on the jammed door. His people were outside, cutting their way back into the compartment with phasers. He tapped the intercom’s reply key. “Scotty, some assistance would be appreciated!”
“Aye sir,” Scott said, the worry in his tone immediately switching to a more businesslike manner. “I’m tying in Lieutenant M’Ress and giving you a boost of auxiliary power.” The engineer paused. “I was afraid we’d lost you in there, sir. There was an interruption of the mains feed to the deflector dish, and—”
“I’ll explain later,” Kirk spoke over him. “For now, pass the order to all ships in the mission group. Come about and head for the rift. We’re getting out of here.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Kaleo gave him a sharp look. “We are leaving? But the signal . . .”
Kirk blew out a weary breath. “We’ve done as much as we can. Now we’re at the mercy of the beast.”
* * *
The sky burned gold.
Streams of star fire, gathered in from cross-dimensional subspace domains and now made livid and visible, crackled around the edges of the leviathan. Talons, formed from energy that could barely exist in normal space, sparked and flared, and for the people on the night side of Syhaar Prime, it was as if the apocalypse had halted to consider its final act before laying waste to their world.
And then the fires shifted.
The wild lightning storm clinging to the curvature of the rogue planetoid did not reach out, but instead it collapsed inward. The conjured power fed back into the serried veins of raw dilithium crystal and made them glow with amber radiosity. Slowly at first, then with increasing degrees of speed, the leviathan began to turn about, rotating counter to the spin of the planet below it—then on a buffer of compacted gravitons, the massive intruder pushed itself away from close orbit of the Syhaari homeworld. Moving through currents of force in a manner that no conventional starship could achieve, the gargantuan cosmozoan departed. It left behind the destruction in its wake and the horror of the monstrous howls it broadcast across the vacuum.
Silent now, its strange mind-process aimed within, the leviathan listened to the soft resonance of the alien song that echoed inside its core.
Lulled into quiescence, the creature’s monumental fury dissipated, and its every violent impulse faded into dim memory. Docile once more, as it was meant to be, the leviathan scarcely reacted to the passage of the alien objects—the metal-stone of the tiny life-craft—as they passed back through the rifts in its rocky mantle and powered away into open space.
Faint, celestial hunger stirred in the alien’s thoughts, the need to heal and to replenish itself. On solar winds it tasted the scent of rich cosmic dust and spent stellar gas, and angling from the heat of the faraway star, the leviathan began a slow migration toward the distant gray wall of the Veil.
On Syhaar Prime, a dawn came that none who lived there had expected to see.
* * *
The Learned Assembly offered the use of an island in the middle of an equatorial inland sea as the site for what their media were calling “the reconciliation.” An area of great natural beauty, but lacking in the giant super-trees that dominated much of the planet, it had been chosen as somewhere that the Breg’Hel would not feel overwhelmed by the landscape. The gecko-like aliens, used to life on board their ships and the desolate, arid moons of their birth, were awed by the panoply of green that grew from the rich soil, even here in the warmest of Syhaar Prime’s climate zones.
Kirk and the landing party from the Enterprise watched the aliens climb gingerly from their dropship, each of them exiting the unusual craft with long, careful steps.
“Is it me, or are some of them shivering?” asked McCoy quietly.
“The ambient temperature here is cold by their standards,” Spock noted. “As a Vulcan, I share some of their feelings. I prefer the warmth and the crisp air of a desert.”
“Warm enough for me,” muttered ch’Sellor, under his breath. The taciturn Andorian envoy was sweating, even in his light robes.
“Diplomacy is all about the act of compromise,” Xuur told her aide. “That’s the watchword for today over all others.” She shot Kirk a sideways look. “Don’t you agree, Captain?”
“It would seem so,” Kirk replied. “At least we’re meeting here and not where Ret’Sed wanted to.” The Breg’Hel had actually suggested that this historic summit take place on the surface of the leviathan in a temporary environment bubble, as a gesture emblematic of conflict’s end—but the envoy had gently persuaded them that a different location would be less problematic.
Still, there remained a symbolism here. The clean, blossom-scented air that Kirk had tasted on their first arrival was tainted now, even in this region, by a faint odor of smoke and dust. While the damage wrought by the leviathan’s passing had not been as severe as that on planet Gadmuur or the ill-fated ice world Hokaar, the Syhaari world had suffered. He had no doubt that the natives wanted to impress that on the beings who had invaded their star system on a mission of blind revenge.
Kirk studied Xuur and his fellow officers for a moment. They had endured conflicts of their own. Each of them had come through the events of recent days the hard way, injured in the line of duty to a greater or lesser extent—but none of them allowed that to be visible today. For his part, the Enterprise’s captain was moving a little stiffly thanks to a medical patch on his still-healing ribs, but he tried not to show it.
He looked away and gave what he hoped was a friendly nod toward the small flock of remote media drones floating above the group. The airborne cameras drifted back and forth between the Federation party and the Breg’Hel, dithering over the aliens.
Ret’Sed and Ead’Aea stared back at the robots with undisguised interest, although their companion Zud’Hoa seemed ill at ease with the machines. Even the concept of an artificial mechanism with some degree of intelligence was new to the Breg’Hel, who saw everything in terms of living creatures.
“Captain, the Syhaari are here,” said Lieutenant Uhura. She pointed to an open-topped air-skimmer as it appeared over the low tree line. The craft made a lazy turn and put down across from the Breg’Hel craft. Kirk saw Kaleo at the controls, steering it from a column like the helm of an ancient sailing ship.
Gatag and several other members of the Learned Assembly disembarked, followed by Kaleo and her colleagues Rumen and Zond. The three of them glanced in Kirk’s direction and gave shallow bows.
“Did anyone say what became of Tormid’s engineer?” said Uhura. “What was her name? Hoyga?”
“In custody, Lieutenant,” said Spock. “The evidence Rumen and the Breg’Hel presented regarding Tormid’s duplicity was very clear. Hoyga’s involvement in maintaining his duplicity is undeniable.”
“It is my understanding that they will strip her of rank and status,” added Xuur. “Exile is the usual
sentence. Hoyga will be sent to a penal center on Gadmuur to assist with the rebuilding there.”
“She lied to protect Tormid . . .” McCoy considered that for a moment. “I imagine by the time she realized it was too late, there was no way out.” He shook his head. “Greed and lies. Wherever you go in the universe, that’s a path to sorrow.”
“Admittedly, there was a certain pitiless logic to some of Tormid’s actions,” said Spock. Before McCoy could rise to the bait, he went on. “However, logic without morality is another guise for cruelty. I suspect Tormid’s sense of superiority favored the latter.”
“A pity he’s not here to answer for his crimes,” said Kirk, watching the Breg’Hel and Syhaari exchange ritual gestures of respect. “He died believing he was right. He would have taken everyone down with him before he admitted he was wrong. And now its up to the rest of us to repair the damage he’s done.”
As if in echo of Kirk’s words, Gatag opened his hands and spoke for the first time. “The motivation behind your invasion is now clear to us all,” said the elder as he addressed the Breg’Hel. “One of our kind, acting on his own corrupted intentions, caused grave injury to your people and stole important materials from one of your vessels. The Syhaari Gathering regrets that a citizen of our worlds did such a thing, and by the light of our star and on the soil of our home, we swear to you that Tormid’s deeds were never condoned by us.”
“If he were alive, we would offer his punishment to you, but he perished aboard the Starship Enterprise.” Kaleo stepped forward to offer Zud’Hoa a data device. “That is a scan of his remains. There was . . . little left.”
The Breg’Hel warrior examined the scan record. “The known have technology that duplicates flesh-life. How can we be sure you have not done this now and the criminal-killer is not in hiding?”
“You’re on, Envoy,” said Kirk quietly.
Xuur gave a nod and stepped forward. “If I may speak? From the start, the United Federation of Planets has made itself available as a neutral arbiter in this situation. We will continue in that capacity, if both sides wish it.”
“Agreed,” said Ead’Aea. “The humanoids have earned our trust.”
“The Learned Assembly agrees also,” said Gatag.
Xuur bowed slightly and beckoned to McCoy. “Doctor? You have viewed that data. Will you affirm for all parties here that it is authentic and that Tormid is dead?”
“I saw the remains,” McCoy said, grim-faced. “No one comes back from direct contact with a high-energy plasma stream.”
“In death, the criminal escapes prosecution and responsibility,” said Ret’Sed. “Perhaps it is a fitting fate. But there is great regret from our clans in the wake of this. We misunderstood the Syhaari. We believed you to be as we, that an act of one is an act that all are responsible for.” The alien was silent for a moment. “We were blinded by rage and grief for the death-deed against our progeny. We went too far.”
“A forgiving is sought by all,” added Ead’Aea. “But the Breg’Hel will understand if the Syhaari cannot reach that state.”
“Was that . . . an apology?” said McCoy quietly.
“The better question,” Kirk replied, “is will it be enough?”
Gatag and the other elders did not answer straightaway, instead beckoning Zond forward. Like Kaleo, he too offered Zud’Hoa a data tablet. “In the spirit of contrition, we give the Breg’Hel this.” He handed over the device. “That contains all the data in Tormid’s personal storage stacks, every page of information he gleaned from what was stolen from your scoutship. Every purloined engine design, every last fragment. We will erase everything that he claimed to have created.”
“That data is tainted by blood and deceit,” added Rumen. “To keep it and know the truth of its origins would shame us.”
To Kirk’s surprise, Ead’Aea stepped forward and reached out to touch Rumen’s face. The action was halting, gentle. “We have hurt you, and yet you do this?”
Rumen spread his broad hands. “It is right. And I know our friends from the Federation would agree. You said it yourselves, forgiveness is the only way forward, yes?”
“We’ll do what we can to support whatever choices you make,” Xuur agreed.
At his side, Kirk sensed his first officer shift slightly. “Spock, you have something to say?”
“A suggestion . . .” began the Vulcan. “I would respectfully note that a better course of action would be to find a solution other than the retardation of your society’s advancement.”
Xuur gave him a sharp look. “Tread carefully, Commander. You’re skirting the edges of the Prime Directive here.” The envoy’s gaze met Kirk’s. “He seems to have picked up your bad habits, Captain.”
“I’ve learned to always listen when my first officer speaks,” Kirk countered. “Carry on, Mister Spock.”
Spock came forward, continuing. “I would propose that this moment of resolution be used as the foundation for something greater. Not just a ceasefire and the assuaging of blame, but also the opening of a path toward interstellar collaboration.”
Kirk nodded, picking up the thread. “A sharing of technology and knowledge between the Breg’Hel and the Syhaari could benefit both species. And the Federation will be glad to assist.”
A slow smile grew on Xuur’s face. “A bold but worthy proposal. I concur. It can be done, if both parties are willing. And if one day in the future your worlds wish to join, the Federation would welcome you in the spirit of peace and friendship.”
The Syhaari and Breg’Hel parties both said nothing, warily sizing up the other. At last, it was Gatag who broke the silence. “We would be open to this. What say you . . . visitors?”
Ead’Aea and Ret’Sed touched hands and whispered something in a gesture that seemed oddly human. Ret’Sed’s head bobbed and Ead’Aea spoke up. “Agreement. Distrust and falsehood were the spurs that almost made us destroy one another. We must sweep them away and, in the new knowing that follows, see only truth.” Ead’Aea took the data tablet from Zud’Hoa and deftly broke it in two. “We will begin again, as if this day were the first and we met as cautious friends.”
A sense of relief washed over Kirk, and he caught Kaleo’s eye again. The Syhaari captain bowed to him and put her fingers together in a gesture of thanks.
As the two groups came together to truly mingle for the first time, Kirk found Xuur standing at his side. She smiled at Spock. “Commander, you have a gift for mediation that, I admit, I never expected to see in a Starfleet officer. But then, given who your father is, I suppose I should not be surprised.”
“I believe Sarek would disagree,” replied Spock.
“Possibly,” she admitted. “But if you ever get tired of working on the bridge of a starship, you might want to consider a career with the diplomatic corps.” The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at that, but Xuur was already focusing her attention on Kirk. “Captain, you and your crew continue to amaze me.”
“The feeling is mutual,” he replied, earning a grin in return.
“I had considered that a ceasefire might be all we would come away with here today, but you . . . you pushed a little more, you took a risk.” She shook her head, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.
“It’s what we do,” said Kirk. “And in this case, it paid off.”
“Indeed.” Xuur drew herself up, becoming more formal. “And in light of that, My aide and I will be taking our leave of the Enterprise for the foreseeable future. Please see that all our baggage is transported down to the planet before you depart, along with whatever support equipment we will need.”
“You’re staying behind?” said Uhura.
“It would seem so,” ch’Sellor muttered.
Xuur glanced at the communications officer. “We can’t help these people from light-years away, Lieutenant,” she went on, “as Doctor McCoy reminded me. Now that the danger has p
assed, the Enterprise has an ongoing mission to attend to. Ch’Sellor and I will remain here and act as Federation ambassadors-in-situ to the Breg’Hel and Syhaari. Diplomatic pathfinders, if you will.”
“That’s a very take-charge thing to do. I imagine that will look very good on your record,” McCoy said, his lip curling.
“No doubt, Doctor,” Xuur replied. “Our original mission here was to open relations with the Syhaari. It has not changed . . . only grown to encompass the Breg’Hel as well.”
“You’ll have your work cut out for you. But then, I think that you like a challenge,” Kirk told her. “Spock, contact the ship, have Scotty make the arrangements.”
As the Vulcan and the rest of the landing party moved away, making ready to beam up, Xuur came closer and spoke so only the captain could hear her words. “I am genuinely sorry that we did not get to spend more time in each other’s company, James. I find you intriguing.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Kirk deadpanned. He had to admit, Xuur represented the kind of challenge that he liked, even if she was FDC. “I’ll make sure you have a long-range subspace radio with boost capacity. If you need help, call.”
“I was just about to say the same thing to you.” Her eyes flashed. “And don’t worry. The report I will submit to the advisory board about you will be quite complimentary.”
A dozen replies formed and faded in Kirk’s thoughts, but in the end he just gave a brisk nod. “Good luck, Veygaan,” he said as Spock threw him a nod. “I hope you find that place in the history books.”
“I’ll save you a page,” said the envoy as the tingle of a transporter beam brushed over his skin.
Sixteen
Lieutenant Arex stood by the array of windows along the long wall of the recreation room and peered out into space. At a hundred kilometers off the Enterprise’s port side, the sleek aerodyne shape of The Friendship Discovered glistened in the faint light of the star Sya, and the navigator noted with professional admiration how the alien ship was maintaining an excellent separation.
The Latter Fire Page 27
