by Susan Wright
Uhura was almost surprised when the unknown ship refrained from circling around and attacking them. Instead, it entered orbit around the planetoid.
“Pull back a bit,” Scotty ordered Chekov, who seemed happy to comply.
Scotty abandoned his chair console and joined Momita at the science station. “Have ye got an identification on that vessel, Mo?”
Momita’s usual grin was twisted now in concern. “Negative, sir. Sensors indicate the ship has been extensively modified on successive occasions.”
The image on screen magnified, and Uhura finally got a good look at the ship. It had an unusual silhouette. What appeared to be warp nacelles were attached directly to the body of the ship. The cylindrical hull bulged mysteriously in several places from large attached components. Blocks of the original brick-red enamel had been repainted in shades ranging from brown to orange. A bristle of arrays capped off the front end, making it look like a stinging insect — something malformed and deadly.
“Who are they?” Scotty voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
“They’re no friends of the Klingons, that’s for sure,” Chekov said.
Momita examined her computer screen. “The ship is similar in some ways to a Denevian vessel encountered by the Starfleet scout ship Crockett when it was exploring on the border of the Beta Quadrant. There isn’t much information on the Denevians, but they certainly weren’t this well-armed.”
The imminent threat posed by an unidentified ship — it felt like one of those unlikely Starfleet Academy exercises, only this one was real. Uhura wondered how many of the other bridge officers were thinking about Captain Kirk and what he would do in this situation.
Uhura took the liberty of switching from their automatic hail to her own voice. Sometimes the personal touch made all the difference, and this certainly seemed like one of those times to try anything. “This is the Starship Enterprise of the United Federation of Planets. Unidentified vessel, please respond.”
After a few quiet repetitions, Uhura finally got a return signal. “Sir! They’re responding.”
Scotty nodded, turning from where he stood at the science station. “On screen, Lieutenant.”
Everyone looked to see who had just blown away a Klingon ship.
A woman’s head and shoulders appeared. She looked familiar, and for a moment Uhura felt relief. She had dark slanted brows like Mr. Spock’s, over brightly colored eyelids.
“I am Tasm, commander of this ship.” Her serene smile was a bit jarring for someone who had just murdered a hundred sentient beings. “We are from the Kalandan colony Beta-nine.”
Uhura gasped. That’s who she looked like — Losira! The ancient commander who had left such a tender, touching message for her people.
Uhura could see the resemblance, though Commander Tasm’s face was flatter, not so regal in expression. Her uniform was also different, darker and concealing her upper body below her neck.
Scotty seemed similarly taken aback. “Kalandans, did you say?”
“Yes.” Her perfect mouth carefully formed the words. “This is our science station.”
Uhura slowly removed her earpiece. With the communication on screen, she didn’t need it. Everything was beginning to make sense.
“We are not receiving an answer from the station. Is that your shield over the entrance?” Tasm never took her eyes off Scotty.
Uhura knew Scotty must be cursing inside. He had been so convinced that his portable shield would conceal the landing party. He would probably spend the next three months in his quarters trying to perfect the unit.
After a few moments, Scotty evasively retorted, “You’ll pardon me for asking, but I thought you people were dead!”
Tasm smiled slightly. “No, my people are quite well. But we lost contact with our advance force many millennia ago. We had believed this station was destroyed. Our colony in the Beta Quadrant just detected an energy signal that alerted us to its location.”
“You weren’t the first,” Scotty pointed out. “Why’d you have to destroy that Klingon cruiser? They were no threat to you.”
“It appeared they were about to destroy you. We’ve found that Klingons are an aggressive, warlike race who are resistant to cooperation. I was forced to take action to protect our property.”
Scotty was getting tense again. No wonder, Uhura thought, these Kalandans are remarkably cavalier. And Tasm was certainly building a case for kicking off every Starfleet officer who was trespassing on the station.
“Now hold on there, Commander,” Scotty drawled. “Starfleet has possession of this station by right of salvage.”
“If we hadn’t arrived, the Klingons would now be in possession of both this station and your ship. Consider it a mutually beneficial trade. You keep your ship while we take our station back.”
Scotty hesitated. In their weakened state, there was no possible way the Enterprise could fight the Kalandan ship. But their orders were clear — Starfleet Command wanted to know more about the Kalandan technology.
“Some of our officers can’t get back to the ship,” Scotty finally admitted. “There’s some kind of disease on the station.”
“The sporophyte virus?” Tasm blandly smiled. “You might want to tell your captain that we have the vaccine.”
That got Scotty’s attention. “Vaccine? You mean you can cure it?”
“Notify your captain that we are prepared to transport down to the station with the vaccine for the virus.”
The Kalandans closed the channel, then Uhura closed it from their end. “Communication terminated,” she reported.
Scotty took a deep breath. “Almost too good t’ be true,” he murmured.
Uhura was puzzled by his reaction, but she would never say so out loud. It seemed like the most natural thing in the galaxy that the mighty Kalandan people would know when their station had been reactivated. Finding such an ancient piece of their own history would also make them quick to eliminate any threat, as the Klingons obviously were. Still . . . all those people killed for no apparent reason . . .
Scotty turned to Uhura, his expression serious. “Get me the captain.”
Chapter Eight
KIRK WAS EXPECTING Scotty’s hail, but he wasn’t expecting to hear that the Klingons had attacked the Enterprise — then had been ambushed and destroyed by a Kalandan vessel.
“They want the station back, Captain,” Scotty informed him. “And the Enterprise is in no condition t’ stop them. They have quantum torpedoes. . . .” he finished in a reverent tone.
Kirk glanced down at the open container filled with Kalandan personal effects. He had seen ample evidence of the Kalandan’s power. Yet he was also getting to know them as people. They kept such frivolous mementos of their travels, especially the beautiful plant specimens encased in clear carbonite spheres and octagons. Some of the organic-based souvenirs disintegrated in a puff of dust when he touched them. The nonorganic plaster figurines and calcified shells had survived.
Among the belongings he had searched there were hundreds of the round computer interface cards. But he found no slots to feed them into.
Kirk knew they were at a standstill. He heard the tension in Scotty’s voice, and could only imagine what his crew was going through up there. It was time to break this stalemate.
“I’m not going to hand over this station,” Kirk said. “Not even in exchange for the vaccine to the virus.”
Scotty sounded calmer now that Kirk was making the decisions. “Then what, sir?”
“Contact their commander. Tell her that Dr. McCoy and I will meet her on the surface of the station, near the entrance.” One of the advantages he most appreciated about Scotty’s shield was that they could step through from the inside without turning it off. The downside was that he wouldn’t be able to get back in again.
“Aye, sir!” Scotty agreed. “When?”
Kirk picked up a small carved stone from the container in front of him. He held it in his fist for a moment, then slipped
it into his pocket. “Do it now.”
Kirk gathered the landing party in the upper chamber, where the destroyed computer node had managed to baffle Spock. “McCoy, you’re with me. We’ll see what kind of medical technicians these Kalandans are.”
“I’d like to find out how they cured this virus.” McCoy eagerly slung his medical tricorder over one shoulder.
Kirk opened his communicator when it beeped. “Yes, Scotty?”
“Commander Tasm is on her way down, along with two crew members, sir.”
“What’s the status on the repairs?” Kirk asked.
Scotty sounded more subdued. “We were almost through with th’ repairs, but the Klingons did a job on th’ ship, that they did. We’ll not be able to power up warp engines for another few hours, Captain. Auxiliary power is holding, but th’shields are barely at thirty-five percent.”
“Get warp power back on-line,” Kirk ordered. That was a priority. “Keep a channel open to Spock. Under no circumstances allow anyone to transport down to the surface. Understood?”
“Aye, sir!”
When the rock slab slid aside, the planetoid looked exactly the same as before. Kirk could see perfectly well through the shield.
The sky hardly changed with the passage of time, staying the same murky purplish-pink. It looked very different from the scene the Losira replica had showed them in the control room. There was nothing left of the clinging, flowering vines or the tall, willowy tree-ferns. Now it was stark and silent, with only the stunted shocks of yellow grass left alive.
“They aren’t here yet,” McCoy commented. “They must plan on making an entrance.”
The rock slab slid shut behind them, pushing Kirk against the shield.
Nervously, McCoy eyed the shield inches away from his nose. A static spark leaped from the brush of his finger against it. “I’m as big a fan of Scotty’s work as anyone . . . but this is his baby. His judgment about it may be a bit skewed.”
“It gives us one more barrier between the station and everyone else.”
“Yeah, but what if it electrocutes us?”
Kirk sighed and stepped through. There was an unpleasant play of static electricity against his skin, but it didn’t hurt.
McCoy grimaced as he pushed through the shield. He settled his uniform jacket without saying anything.
From somewhere nearby, there was the high-pitched whine of a transporter. Kirk and McCoy started toward the edge of the clearing. They could hear the crunch of footsteps approaching.
Three humanoids appeared from behind a rocky outcropping. Kirk’s first thought was that these Kalandans were smaller than Losira. But as they approached, he realized he could look them in the eye, just like the Losira replica. They seemed smaller because they were much more slender.
“I am Commander Tasm from the Kalandan colony Beta-nine.” The center female gestured to the man and woman on either side of her. “These are my officers: Kad, my second-in-command, and Luz, our medical technician.”
Kirk introduced himself and Dr. McCoy, while taking a good look at the Kalandans. They didn’t have the striking presence that Losira had. Their faces were slightly flattened, with rather small features. They wore dark purple uniforms that completely covered them from their toes to the base of their neck. After Losira’s minimalist, midriff-revealing uniform, the effect was stifling.
But one look into Tasm’s eyes revealed the resemblance. It was disturbing when he remembered how Losira had killed three of his men. Tasm had just killed a hundred Klingons.
Commander Tasm was smiling slightly as she continued past Kirk and McCoy, going straight to the rock slab concealing the doorway. “Please deactivate your shield so we may enter the station.”
So she knew exactly where the door was. It had taken his team an entire day to track it down.
“Not so fast.” Kirk stood behind her, arms crossed. He waited until she turned to face him. “We haven’t discussed the ownership of this station yet.”
“Yes, I can see that is your concern. Luz, the vaccine.” Tasm made a slight gesture to her medical officer.
Luz was shorter and just as thin as Tasm. Whereas Tasm had a confident, regal manner, Luz seemed more relaxed. She pulled a cylindrical medical instrument from her pouch and passed it over to her commander. When she glanced at Kirk, he noticed her eyelids were green and blue, whereas Tasm had yellow and orange stripes over her eyes.
Tasm handed Kirk the device. “This contains the vaccine for the sporophyte virus. It is a temporary inhibitor, so it must be taken every day. We do not recommend you take it for more than several days in a row.”
McCoy aimed his medical tricorder at the device. “C-cell suppressor . . . I see . . . ” He quickly absorbed the information. “Yes! That would halt the production of the active spores. With their short life-cycle, yes, it would work!” McCoy turned to Kirk, relieved. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Can we test it?” Kirk asked.
Tasm handed over the device. “Take a dose of the vaccine. It works quickly to halt spore production.”
“The transporter biofilter will remove the virus itself from our tissue.” McCoy took the device from Kirk, running another scan. “It’s got nothing harmful to us in it. I’ll try it first.”
The medical officer stepped forward to show him how to operate the medical device. Luz smiled at McCoy in a shy way. Kirk noticed that Bones managed to catch her eyes to return the smile. She administered the vaccine much like a hypospray. From the doctor’s expression, he felt nothing.
McCoy scanned himself with the handheld medical scanner. “It’s taking effect. It’s not a real cure, but it gives us enough protection to leave this place without infecting the rest of the crew.”
Tasm was looking around. “This station must be thoroughly decontaminated before it can be reoccupied by my people. We’ve been ordered to accompany the station back to our colony in the Beta Quadrant. It’s a remarkable discovery for my people.” She paused to let that sink in. “Other vessels have been dispatched to assist us.”
Kirk merely said, “Give me the vaccine, Bones.” He waited until McCoy had administered a dose of the vaccine. “Can you replicate it for the rest of the landing party?”
“All I need is the ship’s bio-replicator,” McCoy assured him. “Now that I know what it takes to suppress the spore production, we can make our own.”
Tasm remained perfectly poised in front of the doorway. “So you have what you want. Now please return our station to us.”
Kirk tilted his head as if considering it. “By rights of salvage —”
“Yes, we know that you have laws about possession; however, those are not our laws. The fact is, this station belongs to my people. Some of our ancient technology can be used in a dangerous and harmful way, and we must protect it.”
“We’ve had a dose of that ourselves.” He held her gaze. “The defense computer killed three of my men, using cellular disruption.”
“I am truly sorry. Our ancestors were capable of terrible feats, which have mercifully been lost in time.” Her head inclined slightly. “You agree then that we must take custody of this station for the protection of innocent others.”
Kirk didn’t quite know what to say. It was Starfleet’s orders that he prevent this technology from falling into enemy hands. If the vaccine worked, nothing would be easier than to take his officers back to the Enterprise and let the Kalandans protect the station when Klingon reinforcements arrived. But the easy way wasn’t necessarily the right way.
“We found this station and are in possession of it. Can you prove it really belongs to your people?”
Only Tasm’s lips moved. “This station was created ten thousand years ago. Much of our ancient history was lost in the intervening dark age.”
“So you don’t have the capability to transport across light-years? Or cause cellular disruption?”
“No, those technological advances have been lost. Our people once used dimensional transport
ers to travel between our colonies.”
“But you must be able to tell me something about this station,” Kirk protested.
Regretfully Tasm glanced around. “We do know this particular station was under the command of Losira. It was lost at the start of the plague-era, when the sporophyte virus devastated our empire. Historians have long believed that had something to do with why we lost contact with this station.”
It sounded about right to Kirk. “Do you know what the station is like inside? Do you have blueprints of the place?”
“No blueprints, which is why this is such a remarkable event.” Her two officers were now looking more excited. “We do know there is a command center some levels down, with an interactive computer-replica of the station’s commander.”
McCoy made a small noise, as if that was enough to convince him. Kirk had to agree. He almost reached for his communicator to tell Scotty to deactivate the shield.
But something wasn’t right. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but this commander was a tad smooth for his taste. She watched him too carefully.
“I’d like to consult Starfleet Command about your request.” Kirk wasn’t sure where the words came from. He rarely if ever brought Starfleet Command into his decisions. But a gut feeling told him that he needed time.
A spasm of frustration briefly distorted her beautiful face, then she was serene again. “If you do not have the authority yourself . . .”
Kirk knew that was meant to be a taunt, so he didn’t react. “Dr. McCoy, when can we try transporting back to the ship?”
McCoy scanned both himself and Kirk again, checking his readings against the medical tricorder. “We should be able to transport up now. The inert spore fragments have nothing to activate them to grow new viruses.”
It was a test, but the risk was small. If Commander Tasm wanted to destroy his crew, she could do it with one quantum torpedo.
Tasm held out one hand, the first time she had reached out. He had a flash of Losira doing the same thing, with the same urgency in her eyes.
