by Greg Cox
“Thank you for your hospitality, Captain,” A’Barra stated, enjoying a second helping of sushi. He patted his rotund stomach. “You are to be commended on your ship’s cuisine.”
“On that at least we can agree,” General Tem said, picking at his own small plate of hors d’oeuvres. He appeared to have less of an appetite than his Oyolu counterpart. “Although I confess that years of soldiers’ rations have left me unaccustomed to such rich fare.”
The delegates maintained a polite distance from one another as they mingled with Kirk, McCoy, and Riley in front of the panoramic ports. Kirk felt as though he and his colleagues had become a living DMZ, dividing the two delegations. He envied Sulu and Chekov and Uhura, who were enjoying one another’s company over by the buffet. Conspicuously missing were Spock and Scotty, who were still carrying out their vital duties on Pavak. Scotty would be sorry to have missed the reception, Kirk assumed. Spock perhaps not so much.
“Nothing but the best for our honored guests,” Kirk said, while keeping one eye out for Lenore. The reception had been under way for several minutes, but she had yet to make an appearance. He wondered if, despite her assurances, she had indeed gotten cold feet at the last minute, unable to face Sulu and Uhura and the others again. “And a fitting reward for all your hard work today.”
“Such as it was,” Colonel Gast observed drily.
“I believe we had some very frank and valuable discussions today,” Riley said, putting a positive spin on matters, “which will aid us in making significant progress in the days to come.”
“Perhaps,” A’Barra said, “but we still have a long way to go, with many sizable obstacles to be overcome.”
Tem did not dispute the other man’s assessment. “Then let us hope that the destination proves worth the journey.”
“A destination we may never reach,” A’Barra persisted, “unless you are prepared to bend on certain crucial issues, such as surrendering complete administrative control of your spaceports on Oyolo.”
“We built those spaceports at our own expense,” Gast argued, “to accommodate our merchant fleet. Surely we are entitled to full compensation for those facilities.” A sneer lifted one corner of her lips. “Including those senselessly damaged by sabotage, vandalism, and brutal terrorist attacks.”
“Those ports were built against the will of our people,” Ifusi said with heat, his voice rising. “Razing Oyolu lands and communities, displacing populations that had lived there for generations. All so you could send more ships to steal our resources and infest our world!”
“Your memory deceives you,” Gast replied coolly. “Those facilities were constructed with the full permission and cooperation of the proper civic authorities. Everything was done in accordance with your own laws and government.”
“You mean you bribed and intimidated corrupt officials to get your way. Those traitors did not speak for our people!” He stomped toward Gast, invading her personal space. “But you are not dealing with craven puppets and collaborators now. And those infernal ports sit upon the sacred soil of Oyolo. How dare you make claim to them!”
Riley stepped between Ifusi and Gast. “Hold on,” he said. “Now is not the time to wrangle over such matters. There will be opportunity enough to air our respective views, on this and other vital issues, in the meetings ahead. For now, let’s put the negotiations on hold and try to simply relax and set our differences aside for the evening.”
“An excellent suggestion, Mister Ambassador,” Kirk said. A yeoman came by bearing a tray of liquid refreshments. Claiming a glass of Saurian brandy, the captain lifted it and proposed a toast. “To journey’s end . . . and new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” Tem seconded. “And letting go of the past.”
Ifusi snorted derisively.
“Is there a problem, Oyolu?” Gast challenged him.
A’Barra attempted to answer for him. “My aide means no disrespect, I’m sure.” He turned a stern gaze on the younger Oyolu. “Is that not so, Ifusi?”
“I am sorry, sir, but . . .”
“You will control yourself or you will be silent. Am I understood?”
“No,” Tem said, stepping forward. “If the youth has something to say, let him say it. We can make no progress in the days ahead if we shrink from hard truths.” He faced Ifusi. “Speak your mind, Oyolu. You took exception to my toast?”
Ifusi hesitated only momentarily, glancing uncertainly at A’Barra before answering.
“Oh, they were fine words, to be sure, but coming from the Scourge of Azoza? Forgive me if I found that difficult to swallow.”
A gasp escaped Gast and even Riley appeared taken aback that Ifusi had called Tem that to his face. Kirk recalled the origin of the epithet from his briefings. During the early years of the nativist uprising, Oyolu insurgents had seized control of the Pavakian trading district in the city of Azoza, holding several Pavakian merchants and their staffs and families hostage, while also putting Pavakian ships and warehouses to the torch. In response, the Pavakian military, commanded by General Tem, had imposed a strict blockade on the entire city to bring the insurgents to heel, preventing shipments of food, fuel, medicine, and other vital necessities from making their way into the besieged metropolis. The defiant insurgents had eventually chosen to execute their hostages and commit mass suicide rather than surrendering, but not before hundreds of Oyolu had perished from starvation, disease, and exposure. Many Oyolu still considered Tem a war criminal.
Apparently Ifusi was among them.
Tem flinched and Kirk thought he saw a flicker of guilt ripple across the man’s gaunt, furry face, but the general quickly reassumed a reserved, stoic expression.
“Those were trying times,” he said. “Hard choices had to be made.” Regret colored his voice. “Mistakes were made as well.”
“ ‘Mistakes’? You call the slow, agonizing death of hundreds a ‘mistake’?” Ifusi mocked the general’s words. “And ‘letting go of the past’ . . . you’d like us to forget what happened, wouldn’t you? If there was any justice, you’d be on trial for your crimes right now, not sampling delicacies on a starship!”
“As opposed to the terrorists who butchered innocent civilians and turned their own planet into an abattoir?” Gast retorted. “When, pray tell, do they face justice for their numerous atrocities?”
“You dare compare patriotic Oyolu soldiers to the Scourge?” Ifusi angrily scratched at the floor with his hoof. “No one would have been hurt if you had just minded your own business and stayed on Pavak where you belonged. We were fighting to take back our planet and our rights!”
Attracted by the commotion, Chekov strode over from the buffet, followed by Sulu and Uhura. He discreetly signaled two lurking security officers, who moved in closer, just in case they needed to break up a fight. Kirk was pleased to see that Chekov was taking his duties as security chief seriously, although he hoped the precautions wouldn’t be necessary.
“That will be enough, Ifusi,” A’Barra said, intervening before Security had to. “Do not forget that we are guests here.” His hand went to his truncated right horn, which he fingered pensively. “This is neither the time nor place to settle old scores.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Kirk said. “Please confine your battles to the bargaining tables as long as you’re aboard this ship.”
“Yes,” McCoy added. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve seen enough casualties of your war already. I’d just as soon none of you end up in my sickbay.”
“Bluntly put, Doctor,” Riley said, “but I agree with the sentiment. We’re trying to end a war here. Let’s not start one . . . at least not at such a lovely reception.”
“Of course, Ambassador,” Tem said, nodding stiffly at Riley. “I had hoped merely to clear the air, not escalate the hostilities. Let us drop the matter, for the time being.”
Judging fro
m the baleful look in Ifusi’s eyes, the captain doubted that Tem’s past “mistakes” and their festering legacy could remain off the table indefinitely, but Kirk would settle for another temporary cease-fire if it meant they could get through the reception without a physical altercation. The hot-tempered Ifusi struck Kirk as rather too easy to bait, and Colonel Gast as far too ready to push his buttons. It was a volatile combination, like matter and antimatter, which held the distinct possibility of blowing up in everyone’s faces.
“I’m tempted to make another toast,” Kirk said, “but perhaps that would be pushing my luck.” He noticed that Chekov had a glass of what was almost certainly vodka, courtesy of Mother Russia. “Would you care to try your hand, Commander?”
“My pleasure, Captain.” He lifted his glass, only to sneeze explosively before he could get another word out, in Russian or in English. “Excuse me, everyone,” he said, sniffling. “I’m not sure where that came—” Another sneeze cut off his apology.
McCoy’s brow furrowed. “Are you feeling all right, Pavel?”
“I’m fine, Doctor,” he insisted. “Just a bit stuffy, is all.” Watery eyes blinked to clear themselves. “I think maybe I caught a little bug during that shore leave at Ishtar Station.”
“Perhaps a visit to sickbay is in order,” McCoy suggested.
“No, really,” Chekov said. “Please don’t concern yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing serious . . . or contagious.” He sniffled again, visibly struggling to contain another sneeze. He backed away to avoid any further embarrassment. “Don’t mind me.”
McCoy was not so easily dissuaded. “I’m serious, Chekov. It couldn’t hurt to—”
His voice trailed off as the doors to the lounge slid open and Lenore Karidian entered, fashionably late and clad in an elegant lilac gown that she had probably borrowed from the theater’s costume closet. All eyes turned toward her as she hesitantly stepped inside, looking more than a little apprehensive. The doors slid shut behind her as she took a deep breath and strode toward Kirk and his party.
Riley nearly choked on his drink. “What the hell? Is that—”
“Miss Lyla Kassidy,” Kirk said quickly before Riley could blurt out Lenore’s true identity. “An old acquaintance we ran into on Oyolo earlier today. She’s one of the many selfless volunteers assisting in the relief efforts on the planet.”
She joined them before the viewports. If Riley’s shocked reaction upset her, she concealed it admirably. No surprise there, Kirk reflected; she had always been adept at keeping her true self hidden, as both an actress and a murderess. Lord knows she fooled me long enough.
“Good evening, everyone. I hope you don’t mind if I intrude. Captain Kirk was kind enough to invite me to the reception.”
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said and introduced her to the various delegates. A few meters away, Sulu and Uhura were gaping at Lenore with astonishment as well. They had both obviously recognized her from those dire events two decades ago. Kirk found himself grateful that most of the current Enterprise’s crew had not served on his first command and were therefore unlikely to recognize Lenore. “I was just telling our guests earlier about the good work you and your colleagues are doing on Oyolo.”
“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Kassidy,” A’Barra said, beaming appreciatively at the new arrival. Kirk recalled that the charismatic Oyolu leader was said to be something of a ladies’ man, with several wives and mistresses. “What a shame that we are only now meeting for the first time. I have nothing but admiration and gratitude for the generous efforts of you and others like you. Truly, you are an angel in spirit, as well as in form.”
“I’m just one of many volunteers, Minister A’Barra,” she said.
“But every movement is composed of individuals, and each and every person of goodwill contributes to the greater whole. Never discount the importance of a single dedicated individual, Miss Kassidy.” He took her hand in his. “Or can I call you Lyla?”
“Lyla will be fine,” she replied. “Thank you.”
Riley looked like he had seen a ghost straight out of Hamlet or Macbeth. His jaw was tightly clenched and his fists were clutched at his sides. Only years of diplomatic training and experience allowed him to maintain a degree of discretion as he quietly pulled Kirk aside. “A word, Captain,” he said in a low tone. “Now.”
Kirk nodded.
The ambassador’s dismay was entirely understandable. Along with Kirk, Riley was one of the last two survivors of the massacre on Tarsus IV—and a former target of Lenore’s murderous campaign to eliminate all witnesses to her father’s wrongdoing. Not only had Kodos executed Riley’s entire family before his eyes, but Lenore had later poisoned Riley during her fateful visit to the old Enterprise twenty years ago. Only swift action on McCoy’s part had saved the young lieutenant from an untimely demise.
Kirk had hoped to warn Riley in advance of Lenore’s impending arrival, but the ambassador had been tied up in conferences, attempting to keep the peace and un-ruffle feathers, right up until Riley had arrived at the reception with the delegates in hand. There had never been an opportunity to speak to him alone.
Until now.
They found a quiet corner in the garden area on the port side of the lounge. Lush greenery from diverse worlds provided a degree of privacy, while a tranquil koi pond belied the choppy waters the captain had just sailed into. Riley wheeled about to confront Kirk, his tongue no longer restrained by the presence of the delegates. His face was flushed and angry. A vein throbbed at his temple. His formerly deferential manner was a thing of the past.
“What the devil is she doing here?”
“An unexpected twist of fate.” Kirk briefly explained how he and McCoy had accidentally encountered Lenore on Oyolo. “I apologize for not alerting you in advance. Believe me, I was just as startled as you were to run into her after all this time.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to bring her aboard the Enterprise . . . after everything she did last time? After what her father did?”
“Her father, not her,” Kirk stressed. “She wasn’t even born during that ugliness on Tarsus Four. And as for her own crimes, she’s been pronounced sane and rehabilitated by the proper authorities.” Kirk had quickly confirmed this via the ship’s computer library immediately upon his return to the ship. “I figure that entitles her to the benefit of the doubt, maybe even a shot at redemption.”
He kept his own doubts to himself. Sharing them with Riley would not smooth the waters.
“But what about the peace talks?” Riley protested. “Have you forgotten about those?”
“Not at all,” Kirk said. “But the Oyolu and Pavakians have no problematic history with her, as you and I do. They’re unaware of her past and have no reason to be troubled by her temporary presence here. And tomorrow morning she will be back on Oyolo, tending to the refugees again, safely away from your negotiations.” He glanced back the way they’d come. “In the meantime, it seems to me that we can hardly ask the delegates to bury the hatchet if we’re unwilling to do the same.”
Riley had no ready rebuttal. He backed off a bit, but remained visibly distressed. “Her father killed my family, Captain.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “Had my mother and father vaporized right before my eyes. Along with thousands of other innocent people.”
“I know,” Kirk said gently. “I was there. But Kodos paid for his crimes—at Lenore’s hands. The way I see it, there’s already been more than enough tragedy to go around.”
Riley stared down into the sparkling pond, as though gazing back through the years. He had only been four years old when Kodos executed his parents. Kirk had once had to talk him down to keep him from taking the law into his own hands and killing “Anton Karidian” with a phaser. Riley had been younger and more impetuous then, but Kirk doubted that his memories of Tarsus IV were any less vivid or painful. Some ho
rrors, once seen, could never be forgotten.
Which was why “moving on” was often easier said than done.
“This is on you, Captain,” he said finally. “Just keep her out of my way.”
He turned his back on Kirk and marched out of the garden.
Six
Kirk returned to the reception to discover that Lenore was gone.
“What happened to Miss Kassidy?” he asked.
“She left rather abruptly right after you and Ambassador Riley wandered off,” A’Barra said with obvious disappointment. The delegates remained clustered with Riley and Kirk’s senior officers. “A shame, really. She seemed quite enchanting.”
Riley let that pass without comment.
“Perhaps I should check on her,” Kirk said, concerned about her sudden departure for more reasons than one. The prospect of Lenore Karidian at loose aboard the ship gave him pause. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He hurried out of the lounge into the corridor, hoping to catch her, but she was already gone. A solitary security guard was posted outside the lounge to provide an extra degree of protection for their VIP guests. “Did you see an attractive blond woman leave here just a few minutes ago?” Kirk asked.
“Aye, sir,” the guard answered. “She was heading for the aft turbolift.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Kirk weighed his options. For a moment, he considered alerting security to be on the lookout for Lenore, but he decided that would be premature. There was no reason, other than her modus operandi long past, to assume that she was up to foul play. Chances were, she had simply removed herself from a profoundly uncomfortable situation. She was hardly an escaped fugitive.
Instead he tried to anticipate where she might seek sanctuary aboard the ship. No shuttles were scheduled to depart for Oyolo until tomorrow morning, so she would be seeking some place where she could be alone with her thoughts and perhaps avoid running into Riley or any other disapproving specters from her past. Somewhere quiet and unintimidating.
