Star Trek #97: In the Name of Honor

by Dayton Ward

  “I followed the orders of the Council,” Korax replied, his jaw tightening in anger.

  “The Earthers should never have been taken prisoner in the first place,” Koloth countered. “But they were, because of the decisions of weak-minded cretins who abused their power. You could have taken steps to rectify the situation when the Earthers were brought here, but you hid behind those same cowards. You are no better than Kesh and Komor, and you deserve to share their fate.”

  Korax’s body actually began to tremble as his anger continued to simmer, and Kirk thought the Klingon might lash out at his former commander. It was obvious that Korax had carried rage and frustration within himself for many years, and that Koloth was the focal point of that anger. To be powerless before the one he viewed as responsible for the downward turn his life had taken had to be maddening indeed.

  Then, to Kirk’s surprise, Korax simply fell to his knees, slumping to the ground. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon where smoke continued to rise from the treetops. The prison, like his once-proud and promising career, had been reduced to smoldering ruins.

  “Am I an outcast in the eyes of the Empire I have served for so long, with no chance for redemption?”

  “It would appear so,” Jardak said simply, obviously disinterested in the defeated, plaintive look Korax directed at him. Instead, he turned to two of the Klingons who had accompanied him.

  “Take him. It disgusts me to look at him.”

  Kirk was stunned at the harshness of Korax’s removal as the prison commander was led away.

  As if forgetting what had just happened, Jardak turned to Kirk. “Captain, I invite you to board the Zan’zi as my guests. We will return you to Captain Koloth’s ship.”

  Flabbergasted, Kirk replied, “And that’s it? Korax is to be punished because he didn’t measure up to your notion of honor? That deserves a prison sentence or execution?”

  Jardak shrugged as if dismissing the question. “He deserves the fate created by his own actions.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Kirk said as he watched Jardak’s retreating back.

  “Klingon honor is a matter best left to Klingons, Kirk,” Koloth replied. “Do not judge us by your human standards.”

  It was Sydney Elliot who stepped forward, her voice tight with anger. “And your standards are better? Animals like Khulr are allowed to roam free, beating and torturing those who are weak or helpless, and those like Moqlah get tossed aside? He told us about Kahless and Klingon honor, and he did everything he could to treat us according to those philosophies. He was nobler than any Klingon I’ve ever met, including you.”

  Kirk saw the smoldering look in Koloth’s eyes and raised a hand toward Elliot, indicating for the ensign to ease off. Looking to Garrovick, he said, “Commander, prepare your people for transport to Captain Jardak’s ship.”

  As Garrovick led his friend and their crewmates aside, Kirk felt a momentary sense of relief and happiness for the Gagarin officers. After surviving years of tremendous hardship, they were finally going home.

  Any satisfaction he felt, though, was offset once again by the price that had been paid to gain the prisoners’ freedom.

  “Koloth, you told me once before that I shouldn’t view Klingons through my human eyes. You said that not all Klingons were alike, that they were as diverse as humans or any of the races in the Federation. So tell me, do you agree with Jardak? Should the prison have been destroyed?”

  “It does not matter what I think.” Koloth’s reply was quick and sharp, but Kirk thought he saw uncertainty in the Klingon’s eyes.

  He pressed on. “Are you prepared to stifle or even kill those who don’t subscribe to the views you’ve now decided to hold dear? Is this how you intend to spread your message across the Empire?”

  “Take caution, Kirk,” Koloth said, pointing a thick gloved finger at the Enterprise captain. “You have earned a measure of respect from me, but do not abuse what I offer. The prison is gone, and my duty is to the Empire, especially now. Chancellor Gorkon needs warriors to serve him who value honor above all.”

  “Honor?” Kirk didn’t even bother to hide the disgust on his face. “Where’s the honor in killing or silencing those who don’t share your beliefs?” He pointed to the smoke-shrouded mountain in the distance. “What about obliterating a group of people merely for convenience so that they won’t remind you of the mistakes you’ve made? You can’t learn and grow as a people by wiping out innocents.”

  Innocents. Innocence.

  Emotions Kirk thought he had buried came rushing to the surface, boiling with an intensity he hadn’t felt since . . .

  . . . since the last time he had been forced to watch as innocence was crushed beneath the foot of power. It had been innocence born out of the desire to help, not harm. It had wanted to create, not destroy, and those who would pervert what it represented had snuffed it out.

  David.

  The image of David Marcus filled his vision, lying on the ground as the Genesis planet tore itself apart around him. He saw the ghastly knife wound in David’s chest, mocking him and symbolizing the opportunities Kirk had missed. Though he had not known David as a child, he had been given a second chance to build a relationship with his son. No sooner had the opportunity arisen, however, than it was robbed from him by a Klingon’s blade, the same one that had taken David’s own life.

  “Is this the way it will be throughout the Empire, Koloth? Simply eliminate those who represent an inconvenient reminder of actions you’re ashamed of? And what about outside the Empire? There are hundreds of races in this galaxy who know all about the Klingons. Do you think they’ll believe you’ve simply turned over a new leaf? What about those Klingons who decide not to play along? What about those who strike out on their own, attacking and intimidating those who get in the way of their goals, even when those same people pose no threat to them? Where’s the honor in that?”

  And then it exploded from Kirk’s lips, delivered with such unrestrained fury that it actually caused Koloth to step backward.

  “Where was the honor in murdering my son?”

  His eyes clouded by the rage that had come over him, Kirk nevertheless saw Sulu standing to his side, the helmsman’s mouth open in mute shock. It made him realize for the first time since his son’s death just how far he had buried the pain of that loss. He had stifled it, pushed it aside almost from the moment it had happened, when he had been forced to deal with his crippled ship orbiting Genesis while facing down a renegade enemy vessel. There had been no choice except to ignore his personal tragedy for the sake of his crew.

  “Captain . . . ?” Sulu began, but said nothing else. Kirk hadn’t heard him, anyway.

  Even after the initial shock of David’s death had subsided, he had continued to suppress his anguish. Instead he channeled the emotions into his career, choosing instead to focus on the two constants that had seen him through other personal tragedies during his life: the Enterprise and her crew.

  But they weren’t with him here, now, in the oppressive heat of the jungle on this all but forgotten world. His ship and his crew had been, temporarily at least, replaced by Stephen Garrovick and his companions. But they were rescued now. He had done what he’d come here to do, hadn’t he? It was over, and he could return home and he could focus once again on the Enterprise, rather than letting his emotions run amok.

  No, he commanded himself. The situation was not over. Garrovick and his people were still a long way from home, the jungle having not quite released its stranglehold on them just yet. Koloth’s word aside, they really had no guarantee that they would make it back to Federation space.

  There’s still a job to do, he reminded himself harshly. His priority still had to be on securing the safe return of the Gagarin survivors. Slowly, but then with the same determination that had always guided him, he started the process of battling back the pain and the grief yet again.

  Koloth’s expression
softened somewhat as Kirk fought to reign in his surging emotions. “The Empire is in a state of change, Kirk. There will be growing pains and uncertainties as a new course is charted for all of our people. There will also be many actions taken that we will regret.

  “Your son was an unfortunate casualty who fell victim to the actions of cowards. Take comfort in knowing that the Klingons responsible for his death have been cast into Gre’thor where they will spend eternity at the mercy of Fek’lhr.”

  Kirk heard the words, but the battle he was still waging within himself refused to let them register, to dilute the bitterness and pain he felt. Those words, along with the noble actions of more than one Klingon who had seen a grave injustice and who had risked their careers and possibly even their lives to set things right, rang hollow in the face of what he had seen here today.

  “As far as I’m concerned, every last one of you can go to Gre’thor, or hell, or wherever it is that Klingons burn best.”

  With that, he turned abruptly and marched toward the far side of the plateau.

  As he watched Kirk walk away, Sulu was tempted to follow after him and offer support. He stopped himself, however, certain that the captain would prefer solitude for the moment.

  In all the years that he had served with him, Sulu had never seen his captain so distraught. Possessing what could only be described as a supreme force of will, Captain Kirk had never allowed any personal feelings to interfere with his command decisions. He had always provided an emotional anchor for his crew in even the most trying of times. It was one of the traits that had made him a great leader in Sulu’s eyes, and one of the many reasons he had followed the man time and again to hell and back.

  However, the explosive outburst that Kirk had unleashed on Koloth had sent a shiver down the helmsman’s spine despite the stifling heat of the jungle and the perspiration streaming freely from his face and body. He saw that it wasn’t a stalwart commander who stalked away from him now. Instead it was a man who had repeatedly triumphed on behalf of countless people he would never meet, yet had been forced to stand by and endure the loss of his only son in a single instant of cruelty.

  Moving to stand beside Sulu, Koloth said, “If I could undo his son’s death, I would. Unfortunately, all that is left to Kirk is his son’s memory. He must keep that close to his heart during future battles. It will remind him of why he fights.”

  “Captain Kirk only fights when there are no other options,” Sulu countered. “It’s not something he takes lightly, but he doesn’t shy away from it, either.”

  As he regarded Kirk’s retreating back, Koloth nodded in admiration. “That is what defines the honor of a true warrior.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  ON THE VIEWSCREEN in the Enterprise officers’ lounge, Kirk was pleased to see that Stephen Garrovick and Sydney Elliot bore little resemblance to the man and woman they had rescued from Pao’la. Two weeks of medical and dental care at Starbase 49 as well as improved nutrition had succeeded in easing their gaunt, exhausted features. Kirk knew that within a few months, the former prisoners’ bodies would be healed. As for their minds, only time would tell.

  Kirk wanted to believe that the rescued survivors could leave their ordeal behind them and resume normal lives, but what were the real chances of that happening? He had been held prisoner before, had even been tortured by the enemy, but he knew that nothing he had experienced could compare to what Garrovick and his companions had endured. He had to hope that their strength of will, along with Starfleet medicine and the support of their families, would see them through the difficulties that lay ahead.

  “Mr. Spock tells me you’re resigning your commission, Commander,” Kirk said to Garrovick. He noted that Garrovick’s brown hair had already started to grow back, and he was also showing the beginnings of what promised to be a full beard.

  Garrovick nodded. “At least temporarily, sir. I thought I might spend some time at home. My mother can’t wait to see me and I figure that after all that’s happened, she deserves to have me around the house for a little while. I doubt I’ll be bored, though. She’ll probably have a list of chores for me that’s about a kilometer long.”

  Despite the way he felt, Kirk was unable to keep from smiling. “Well, we’ll just have to do our best to get along without you.”

  “That’s okay, sir.” Garrovick indicated Elliot with a nod of his head. “With Sydney back in action, the Federation will be well protected from tyranny.”

  Kirk turned his attention to the former Gagarin security officer. Like Garrovick, hair had begun to cover her scalp, and her once pasty skin had reclaimed its rich ebony luster. The top she wore left her arms bare, and Kirk could see that she had already begun to regain some muscle tone.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant,” he offered.

  “Thank you, Captain,” she replied. “For everything. Starfleet promoted me to full lieutenant, but I like the shore leave I racked up a whole lot more. But don’t worry, sir. I’ve been told that I’ll get a ship assignment as soon as the doctors clear me.”

  Behind him, Kirk heard the quiet hiss of the doors parting and turned to see Spock and McCoy enter the lounge. He nodded to his friends before returning his attention to the screen.

  “Well, if nothing turns up, give me a call. I think Mr. Chekov would benefit from an officer with your talents.”

  Elliot smiled at that, but it was a smile that quickly faded. “Captain, has the Klingon government provided any information about any more of our shipmates? Are there more of them being held somewhere?” Kirk’s own features soured at the question, as they had at every mention of Klingons over the past two weeks.

  Ignoring McCoy’s questioning look, Kirk instead focused on Spock, who merely had to shake his head slightly to provide the answer Kirk needed but didn’t want.

  “No, Lieutenant. So far, Chancellor Gorkon and the High Council haven’t been able to provide any further information, either on the Gagarin or any other ship that might have disappeared over the years. The replacement of Chancellor Kesh and members of the Council has caused major disruption in the Klingon government. It could be a while before things stabilize there, and longer still before we get any kind of helpful information.”

  The words were an understatement, Kirk knew. Civil unrest had erupted in pockets throughout the Empire. Gorkon had legions of supporters, but there was still the reality that many Klingons would not easily accept the changes Gorkon and his followers represented. They would undoubtedly cause strife and difficulties in the near term, and the new government’s priorities would not include answering questions from a party that was still, in theory at least, an enemy.

  “At any rate,” he said, “that’s a concern that has been handed off to Ambassador Joquel and her diplomatic team. It’s their job to worry about the Klingons for now, and it’s your job to continue your recovery and return to your lives, something I imagine you’re all anxious to do.”

  “Amen to that, Captain,” Garrovick replied. “I plan to contact the families of every crew member. If you could find us, then there’s a good chance that others are still out there somewhere.” His gaze fell for a few seconds before he added, “Besides, I think I also owe something to the ones who won’t be coming back.”

  Kirk nodded in understanding. How many such calls had he made during his career?

  Spock and McCoy continued to wait for the next few moments as goodbyes were exchanged. Only when the communication was severed did McCoy saunter forward in his usual nonchalant manner and drop into a chair next to Kirk. As he opened the front panel of his maroon uniform jacket and adopted the more casual air he preferred, the doctor studied his friend, who continued to stare at the now blank viewscreen.

  “What’s on your mind, Jim?” he asked after nearly a minute spent in silence.

  At first Kirk resisted the doctor’s question. “I’m just tired, Bones.”

  “Bull. You’ve been acting like this since you got back. Every time someo
ne mentions Klingons, you get all stone-faced.”

  Spock stepped closer to his companions and added, “Dr. McCoy has given a succinct if not entirely accurate assessment, Captain. You have exhibited a most reserved demeanor since your return to the Enterprise. Based on conversations the doctor and I have had with Mr. Sulu, we know what happened on Pao’la. Perhaps you could elaborate.”

  His expression grim, Kirk still didn’t look away from the dormant viewer. “So you’ve been checking up on me.”

  “We wouldn’t have to if you’d talk to us,” McCoy snapped. “We’re your friends, in case you’ve forgotten. Sulu told me how you nearly bit Koloth’s head off on that planet. So, how’s about you tell us what’s eating you?”

  The words penetrated the barrier Kirk realized he had thrown up around him since his return to the ship. He saw the look of concern tinged with irritation on McCoy’s face. Coupled with the implacable expression Spock exhibited, Kirk knew he wasn’t getting out of the room until he satisfied his friends’ concerns.

  “Koloth told me that Klingons have always valued honor and character. Their entire culture was built upon those beliefs. They apparently went through a period where those values seemed to lose their importance, but he says that’s changing now. I try to reconcile that with what I saw on Pao’la, and I can’t. It was barbaric.” Pausing momentarily, he shook his head in frustration and rose from his chair to begin pacing the lounge.

  “With such casual disregard for life, I can’t believe they won’t destroy themselves before we ever get to achieve peace with them, honor or not. I mean, is such a radical shift in fundamental beliefs and values possible? Are the Klingons willing to risk everything they’ve built and plunge the Empire into civil war in order to reaffirm such an arcane notion?”

  Spock replied, “Humans have asked themselves those questions many times in their history, Captain, as have my own people. Both our civilizations managed to affect drastic philosophical change in a relatively short period of time. It therefore seems logical to assume that such a feat is possible for the Klingons as well.”