STAR TREK: The Original Series - The Last Roundup

by Christie Golden

  “It is my understanding that Klingons are willing to die to see an honor debt satisfied,” Spock said calmly. “Are they unwilling to live to see the debt paid?”

  The Klingon had no response to that. He folded his arms and glowered.

  “We came here to satisfy the DIS jaj je,” Spock continued. “Let us be about it.”

  Lissan stood straight and tall as he reported to his fellow Kal-Toreshi. Even as he spoke with an easy confidence, he felt a brief pang inside. Lying had once been something he had abhorred. Now, it seemed to come to him far too easily. The falsehoods rolled glibly off his tongue. No, the Federation would be no trouble at all. Yes, 858 might have gotten wind of the plot, but Lissan had been able to put him off. No, the colonists weren’t being any problem, and of course Lissan had been able to capture them all. No, 858 had exaggerated the skirmish with the Klingon vessel. The eight ships suffered minor damage but were victorious. Could they see Kirk? Not at the moment, the pesky human was being interrogated. Soon, Lissan promised. On schedule? Of course everything was on schedule. This had been planned down to the last second, why wouldn’t everything be on schedule?

  On their end, unless they were lying too, the [260] Kal-Toreshi had very good news to report. Lorall, the aged female who was the head of the small group, fairly radiated pleasure.

  “The Huanni are putting up a good fight, but they are no match for our enhanced fleet,” she enthused. “The first few hours have gone well. There is no reason to believe that the planet will not eventually fall to our forces.”

  “That is wonderful and welcome news,” Lissan said, and for the first time since the conversation began, knew those words to be the unvarnished truth.

  There came a deep rumbling sound, and the image of the Kal-Toreshi was shot through with static. “Lissan?” Lorall’s voice was harsh and buzzing, and her image was fuzzy. “We are having trouble—”

  Panicked, Lissan turned off the screen and contacted his head of security. “What is going on?” he demanded, his voice high.

  “The Klingon vessels are firing on the shield,” Jasslor reported.

  “What’s the damage?”

  “Insignificant, sir. We think the shield will hold through several hours, perhaps days, of such bombardment. However, they are also firing into the ground around the shield. There is a great deal of energy rolling off the shield into the surrounding area. The soil and rock is grounding most of it, but we’re still getting power spikes and are going to have to take some systems closer to the surface offline.” Inwardly, Lissan groaned. Security was located immediately below surface level. The chief hesitated, and then added, “It looks [261] like they are also successfully jamming our communications.”

  “We are in the final stages of activating the nanoprobe virus,” Lissan said, hissing the words. “We need to be able to communicate. We need to transmit the order that will ensure our victory. We need to not lose data. What are you doing about this?”

  “Sir, as I’ve told you, we are very short on security personnel, and with the problems caused by the bombardment—”

  “I know, I know, security systems are being taken offline. Then leave the cursed colonists in their hidey-holes. Call all security back in,” Lissan ordered. “It looks like we need them here more.”

  Jasslor hunched his shoulders and managed to look more miserable than he had earlier. Lissan had not thought such a thing possible.

  “Sir,” he said, “With the communications systems jammed, we can’t contact them to have them report back.”

  Lissan was so horrified at how rapidly and severely the situation had deteriorated that for a moment he didn’t even have breath to reply. For the briefest of moments, he felt sheer panic stalking him like a wild beast. No. He would not yield. Wild, uncontrollable emotions were a Huanni trait, not a Falorian.

  “Here is what you will do,” he said, calmly. He leaned forward into the screen. “You will find a way to get external communications working again. You will contact all personnel currently searching for the colonists and call them back. You will stabilize the field [262] so that these attacks do not disrupt it further, and you will find Captain Kirk and his comrades and bring them to me. Do I make myself clear?”

  Jasslor swallowed. “Yes, sir,” he said.

  The minute they were inside, alarms began to ring shrilly. At once, they slammed the door shut. There was no time to let Scott work his magic and reactivate a scrambled security device; Kirk simply fired at the controls. If anyone wanted to get in, they would have to blow open the door or phaser it open physically.

  Unfortunately, if they wanted to get out, they would have to do the same.

  “We’re in it now for sure,” Julius said.

  “Were you ever not?” Kirk asked sharply.

  Unexpectedly, Julius smiled. “Once,” he said, “but not anymore.”

  Kirk looked around and assessed the situation. They were again in the enormous control center, the very heart of the place. He felt a brief stab of anxiety as he looked at the screen that had once showed the formal reception hall of Starfleet Command. All the screens were blank. No doubt that hall was presently empty, of course; no time for entertainment or festivities now. Here was where Kirk first grasped the vastness of the Falorian plot, although the details had not yet been revealed. Here also was where he had given the order that had caused Chekov’s hands to be so badly damaged. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Let’s find out which of these is the communication console,” he told Scott. “And make sure you disable [263] any security precautions. I don’t want anyone else injured.”

  At that moment, they heard sounds from outside. Someone was banging on the doors.

  They had been discovered.

  “Time’s a-wasting, gentlemen,” Kirk said. He took up a position at the door, phaser at the ready. The guards might eventually break through, but Kirk was going to stop at least a few of them. Chekov, too, stepped beside him and lifted his phaser.

  Scott and Julius went from console to console, trying to find the right one. Skalli trailed behind them, craning her long neck and wringing her hands, but keeping silent.

  “I think that’s it,” Julius said. “Some of the readings look similar to other communications devices I’ve seen the Falorians using. What do you think?”

  The banging stopped. A new sound could be heard faintly over the shrill alarm; the high-pitched whine of a phaser adjusted to a fine cutting edge.

  Scott didn’t reply, but glanced from the console to the tricorder and back. Finally he nodded his nearly white head. “Aye, that looks about right. I’ll take it from here, lad.”

  “Maybe I can help?” Skalli said.

  “You’ve been useful indeed, lass,” Scott said. “Step in here and have a look.”

  A tiny hole appeared in the heavy metal door, surrounded by a shower of sparks. Kirk and Chekov exchanged glances. They still had some time, but not much. Kirk adjusted his grip on the phaser.

  [264] “Uncle Jim?” Julius’s voice was surprisingly quiet, devoid of its usual surly undertones.

  “I’m a bit busy, Julius,” Kirk replied.

  “I’d like to help. Scott and Skalli are busy at the console. Let me have a phaser. I’ll stand with you.”

  Kirk glanced at him sharply. The blood had dried on his now-swelling face, but for the first time since Kirk had seen him his expression was almost tranquil. He knew they could all die here. And he knew what he was asking.

  “All right, Julius. Take Mr. Scott’s phaser. It will be an honor to have you at our backs.”

  Slowly, despite the pain it must have caused his damaged jaw, Julius smiled, and for the first time, Kirk saw the boy in the face of the man.

  The black line had grown to an inch now.

  The howling siren stopped. Kirk’s ears felt hot from the cessation of the sound. Then came another sound.

  “Captain Kirk,” came Lissan’s voice. “So, I have found you at last.”

&nbs
p; Chapter Twenty-three

  “KAL-TOR LISSAN,” Kirk said. “I have some information for you.”

  “Unless it is where you have hidden all your colonists, I have no interest in anything you might say,” Lissan said. His voice echoed in the chamber, quiet save for the Kal-Tor’s voice and the steady, high hum of the phaser continuing to cut through the door.

  “We know about your plot to destroy all dilithium crystals except the stash you are planning to take from the Huanni,” Kirk said.

  “You figured that out? Very clever. Did the Huanni female help you out? Did she tell you what her people had done to ours?”

  “There’s no time for this, Lissan,” Kirk snapped. “Your scientists have made a fatal mistake. There’s a flaw in your research. I believe your only desire was to control the flow of dilithium in the galaxy. But you’re going to kill thousands, maybe millions, of people doing so.”

  [266] Harsh laughter rang through the room. The cut in the door was now a vertical six-centimeter gash, and as Lissan replied, the unseen guard on the other door moved his phaser horizontally. The cut continued in a straight line to Kirk’s right.

  “We have been planning this for years,” Lissan said. “We have run every test imaginable. There is no flaw. You would say anything to try to halt our triumph and keep the Federation’s advantage in the quadrant’s affairs.”

  “We studied your data,” Kirk said urgently. “We know that you utilized an extremely pure crystal, that indeed all of your tests were performed using splinters of that single crystal. Did you do any tests on any other crystal? One with more impurities?”

  “There was no need. A dilithium crystal is a dilithium crystal. This is nonsense, Kirk. I am not cruel. If you surrender now, I give you my word you will not be harmed.”

  Kirk glanced over at Scott, who was still working frantically. Skalli shook her head; the engineer hadn’t been able to get a message out yet.

  The cut was now three centimeters across. The angle again went down. Sparks sputtered.

  “We ran simulations on our dilithium crystals,” Kirk continued. “Crystals of only about seventy-five percent purity. They shattered like common glass, Lissan. If that had been a real crystal in a real matter-antimatter chamber, it would have caused a warp core breach. You know what happens then.”

  Lissan was silent. The cutting sound continued.

  [267] “That’s not possible.” There was hesitancy in the Falorian’s voice.

  “Think about it, Lissan. If you activate this virus and a ship goes into warp, you’re going to be responsible for the deaths of every single person on that vessel. Is that really what you want? Is that the legacy you’ve dreamed of for the Falorian people? To go down in history as the worst mass murderers of all time?”

  “We are not killers, Kirk.”

  “I don’t think you are, Lissan,” Kirk said truthfully. “I don’t think you knew that this would happen, but it will.”

  “All we want is what was rightfully ours!” Lissan cried. “We died in the mines on Huan. We discovered that dilithium, we earned it. This story you have fabricated—you just want to help your precious Huanni. You lie, James Kirk, and promise to the Federation or no, the moment my guards break into the control center I swear, we will activate that virus!”

  Kirk glanced at the door. The cutter was making steady progress.

  “Let me talk to him,” Skalli said unexpectedly. Kirk looked at her sharply. “Please,” she said. “Let me talk to him.”

  “This is a very delicate situation. What are you going to say?” Kirk wanted to know.

  “Something that should have been said a long time ago,” she replied.

  Kirk hesitated, then nodded. Skalli cleared her throat and spoke more loudly. “Kal-Tor Lissan? This is Skalli. The Huanni.”

  [268] A long, cold silence. “There is nothing you have to say that I could possibly want to hear, Huanni. Save your dignity and don’t beg for your planet.”

  “I’m not going to beg.” Her chest hitched with short, shallow breaths. “I want—I w-want—” She gulped and wiped at her eyes, cleared her throat, and squared her narrow shoulders. “I want to apologize.”

  Again, silence. Then, shockingly, laughter. It was malicious and seat shivers down Kirk’s spine. Skalli visibly shrank away from the sound.

  “I had no idea Huanni had such a sense of humor,” Lissan said. “Of course, that makes everything all right, now, doesn’t it? Centuries of laboring under Huanni domination, of taming a world to which we were never born simply because you got tired of us—well, we’ll just put that all behind us because one Huanni child practically still slick from her mother’s womb says she’s sorry.”

  Skalli was crying so hard that tears spilled down her face from all four corners of her eyes. Kirk reached to put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stop,” he said softly, for her ears alone. “There’s no sense in torturing yourself.” She wrenched away from his comforting touch.

  “Oh, listen to the little Huanni girl, so sad she’s crying. Poor little thing. Too bad you’re not on your home planet, you’d really have something to cry about.”

  Kirk winced at the venom in the words. He knew that he was hearing more than one individual’s words. He was listening to centuries of pent-up hatred stream out. Skalli swallowed and somehow summoned the [269] wherewithal to reply. Her voice was so thick that her words were almost unintelligible.

  “I ... don’t th-think this will change anything,” she cried. “B-but that doesn’t make any difference. This is something I need to say, and I need you to hear w-whether you believe it or not. Lissan, I am sorry. So terribly, terribly sorry for what my people did to yours.” She laughed shakily. “It’s not even as if we’re different people, we’re the same, and yet the people from whom I’m descended did terrible things to the people from whom you’re descended. We never speak about it because we’re so ashamed. We think that if we don’t say anything, then it’s almost like it didn’t happen. I don’t blame you for rejecting our offers of friendship. How can we truly think to be your friends when we can’t even admit we did anything wrong?”

  She dragged a sleeve across her streaming nose. “So now you’re doing something just as bad to us, but at least you’ve got a reason. I just wanted you to know. That there was someone, at least, who is able to acknowledge what the Huanni did to the Falorians and say it was wrong, and I am very, very sorry.”

  Again, a long silence. Finally, Kirk broke it. “Lissan, are you still there?”

  “It was you, wasn’t it, Kirk? You put her up to this.”

  “Skalli is her own person, Lissan. I’m as surprised as you are by what she just said. It’s not too late. Promise me you won’t detonate this virus and we will arrange for negotiation between you and Huan. Maybe we can—”

  “This conversation is over.”

  [270] “Lissan? Lissan!” But the Kal-Tor was gone. “Scotty, how far are you—”

  “It’s no use, Captain. We can’t get a message out,” Scott said glumly. “Someone’s blocking it. This was all for nothing.”

  Kirk stared at him, feeling the horrified gaze of everyone else upon him. This couldn’t be! They couldn’t have come this far and not be able to at least warn the Federation. But Kirk had known Scott for decades, and he knew every expression that flitted across that face. There was nothing Scotty could do.

  “This isn’t fair!” wailed Skalli, finally surrendering to her grief and sobbing into her hands.

  The Falorian guard was done with his second vertical cut. He moved to complete the rectangle. Once that was done, they’d be in.

  “Scotty, give me something. Anything.”

  Scott remained silent. Kirk’s thoughts raced. He looked around the vast room again, seeing it with fresh eyes.

  “We’re in the control center,” Kirk said. “The control center. Julius, you said the Falorians were very organized. Do you think they would create this virus and then put the ability to launch it anywher
e but here?”

  Julius’s blue eyes glittered. “Not a chance,” he said firmly. “This is where it was made, this is where it will be activated. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “You may well be doing exactly that,” Kirk said. If they had time, maybe even a few more minutes, they could probably determine which console controlled the activation of the virus and destroy it. But they didn’t [271] have time. Time was running out. They had a few seconds remaining, a moment or two at the outside.

  “You’ve broken into the communications system, right, Scotty?”

  “Aye,” Scott said. “But I told you, we can’t—”

  “We can’t get a message out, I know. But within the complex, can this system talk to the others?”

  Skalli’s tears were drying and now her eyes gleamed. “I think they can,” she said, clearly seizing onto the merest shred of hope.

  “We don’t have time to find out where the activation of this virus is centered,” Kirk said. “But if this entire complex is destroyed, the Falorians won’t be able to send the activation signals to the nanoprobes. The virus will remain dormant.”

  The faces that turned to him were grim, but unafraid. Everyone knew what was at stake here. Even Julius didn’t offer a protest.

  “I can link up all the consoles throughout the facility so that one short will send the whole kit and caboodle sky-high. This whole pit will be one big ball o’ flame. We won’t be needing to worry about what our relatives will do with our remains.”

  “I don’t give a damn about what happens to me,” said Julius. “But the other colonists—Alex—how can we justify making this decision for them?”

  “Alexander knows what’s at stake here,” Kirk said. “What do you think he would want us to do?”

  Slowly, Julius grinned, his eyes were shiny. “Stop these bastards,” he said.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. Scotty, get on it now.”

  [272] Kirk had never seen the engineer move so quickly. Kirk glanced from Scotty’s flying fingers to the cut in the doorway. For the moment, it seemed to have stopped. They had reached some kind of bolt or barrier within the door, and the cutting was taking longer.