2268
“… to my relief, and surprise, Fortier disabled the acid bulb as promised, so my engineering crew were able to—gingerly—remove the device from the energy pile without incident. To my dismay, however, we were unable to stop Fortier from fleeing in an escape pod while he still held Doctor Hamparian’s life in his hands. The last I saw of the pod, it was moving away from us, heading deeper into the system, after which we had no choice but to make tracks back to Federation space to deliver the rest of our passengers to safety. What became of Hamparian afterwards? I wish I knew…”
“End recording,” Kirk said.
The testimony of Jerry Yamada, skipper of the S.S. Chinook, vanished from the viewscreen in the Enterprise’s main briefing room, where Captain James T. Kirk was conferring with his senior officers regarding the particulars of their current orders from Starfleet. Kirk’s heart went out to Yamada, who had clearly been placed in an untenable position. The man was a civilian captain, not a Starfleet officer, but the loss of his passenger surely weighed heavily on him. Kirk hoped it wasn’t too late to safely recover Taya Hamparian.
“And there you have it, gentlemen,” Kirk said. “A firsthand account of what transpired aboard the Chinook several days ago. And the impetus for our present assignment.”
“A spacejacking of all things!” Doctor Leonard McCoy vented, understandably offended by the brazen crime. A scowl deepened the lines on his careworn face. “In this day and age! What century is this again?”
“Aye,” Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott agreed, equally incensed. “And by wreaking mischief on the ship’s very engine no less. I’d like to get my hands on that sabotaging blackguard, and I’m not ashamed to say it. Gets my dander up thinking about how he put that poor vessel and all aboard in jeopardy just for his own devilish purposes.”
First Officer Spock’s reaction was characteristically less emotional. “Alas, Doctor, no era is entirely immune to lawlessness, and all the more so out on the more distant frontiers of the Federation. And in this instance, the operation appears to have been planned and executed with admirable precision.”
“Admirable?” McCoy bristled. “Don’t tell me you’re giving this outrage a good review?”
“Hardly, Doctor. I merely note that this was neither a crime of passion nor opportunity; considerable thought and preparation went into its implementation. We would do well to take that into account when calculating our response.”
Kirk agreed. “Your point is well-taken, Mister Spock. This was a sophisticated crime committed by a bold and meticulous felon. We should not underestimate him… and whoever else might be involved.”
Along with the other three officers, Kirk sat at the conference table facing the viewscreen. Yeoman Martha Landon was also on hand to record the proceedings and manage the viewer via a control panel embedded in the table. Kirk had left Lieutenant Sulu in charge of the bridge with directions to make good time to the last reported location of the spacejacker and his hostage. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Uhura was monitoring subspace transmissions for any new developments or clues concerning Doctor Hamparian’s whereabouts.
“The motive behind the crime also remains obscure,” Spock observed, “assuming that the abduction of Doctor Hamparian was indeed simply a matter of chance.”
“That’s what has Starfleet worried,” Kirk said. “Beyond a natural concern for the well-being of a Federation citizen, which we cannot take lightly, there are also larger issues at stake. It seems that the noted Doctor Hamparian was involved in some top-secret, highly classified biomedical research. More specifically, she was well on her way to developing treatments that, conceivably, could lead to regenerating damaged or lost humanoid tissues, maybe even allowing patients to regrow organs lost to disease or injury.”
“Fascinating.” Spock raised an eyebrow in appreciation. “If successful, that would be a significant breakthrough in modern medicine, bringing relief to many.”
Kirk wondered if, like him, Spock was also thinking of poor Christopher Pike, whose irradiated nervous system had been ravaged beyond even the Federation’s most advanced medical treatments. Pike had ultimately found a balm of sorts on Talos IV, but perhaps someday Hamparian’s work could provide less illusory hope to countless others stricken by equally debilitating catastrophes.
“Good God,” McCoy exclaimed. “I recognized Hamparian’s name from assorted medical journals, and knew she was well-respected in her field, but I had no idea she was working on anything so groundbreaking!”
“That was deliberate, Bones. Although her work is benign in intent, there are concerns that her techniques, if perfected, could be misused if they fell into the wrong hands, such as the Klingons or the Romulans. Imagine the military advantages of creating soldiers who can regrow lost limbs or organs, or who possess superhumanoid healing factors. Certainly, it wouldn’t be the first time that a well-intended scientific breakthrough was weaponized in ways its creators never intended.”
Spock nodded. “Your own world’s devastating Eugenics Wars come immediately to mind.”
“Not just ‘our’ world, Spock,” McCoy said. “Need I remind you that half your genes come from Earth as well?”
Spock stiffened. “That is hardly necessary, Doctor, nor appreciated.”
“In any event,” Kirk said, “growing new livers or kidneys is one thing. Crossing over into Khan Noonien Singh territory is another, which is why Hamparian’s work has been closely monitored and classified by the authorities up until now, and why they are so distressed by her abduction. Put bluntly, rescuing her is not just an errand of mercy; it’s a vital matter of Federation security.”
“Just as her disappearance is a potential loss to science and medicine as well,” Spock observed.
McCoy shook his head somberly. “Of all people for that bandit to take hostage.”
“Exactly, gentlemen,” Kirk said. “The powers that be want her back, top priority.”
“So are we thinking then that the lady was not merely at the wrong place at the wrong time,” Scott asked, “but that perhaps the villain knew exactly who he was snatching?”
“Impossible to determine at this time,” Spock said, “but in light of what we now know about the potential value of her work, we cannot rule out the possibility that the abduction of Doctor Hamparian was indeed the very motive behind the crime.”
“Or, alternatively, her kidnapping was just a matter of chance,” Kirk said. “Coincidence or conspiracy? That’s the question.”
As Spock had noted, no definitive answer could be determined just yet, but the fact that the sector in question, where Fortier had insisted on being taken, bordered Klingon space was cause for concern. Kirk didn’t want to think about the Klingons getting hold of Hamparian and forcing her to weaponize her work on their behalf. He assumed that the kidnapped scientist would never do so voluntarily, but Klingons seldom took “no” for an answer—and could be brutally persuasive when it suited them.
“What do we know about the culprit himself?” McCoy asked. “This Fortier scoundrel, if that’s his real name?”
“Very little.” Kirk had already reviewed whatever biographical materials Starfleet, and the Enterprise’s computerized database, had managed to dig up on the man. “He’s kept a fairly low profile, staying on the right side of the law, mostly, with only a few minor infractions and run-ins with local authorities over the years. Peripatetic in his habits, never staying put at one planet or system long enough to set down serious roots. Prior to the Chinook incident, he was barely on anybody’s sensors.”
He nodded at Landon, who put a recent image of Fortier, taken from his travel visa, onto the viewscreen. There was nothing about the man’s appearance to trigger any red alerts. Kirk didn’t recognize him and had no reason to expect that anybody in the room would. Fortier’s record, meager as it was, was hardly suspicious. Harry Mudd he was not, at least not on paper.
“I have to wonder if Fortier is truly the brains behind this operation,” Kirk said. “Nothing in his file suggests that he’s anything but a small-time hustler, drifting from world to world. I’m finding it hard to see him as a criminal mastermind apt to pull off such an audacious crime.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” McCoy said. “Hard to get the full measure of a man from a skimpy résumé. Who knows what anyone’s truly capable of if they’re desperate or motivated enough? Look at Ben Finney, or Laurence Marvick.”
Kirk took McCoy’s meaning. He would have never guessed that Finney’s frustration and bitterness over his stalled career in Starfleet would have led him to fake his own death to get back at Kirk, whom he blamed for his blighted prospects, or that an accomplished starship engineer like Marvick, who’d had a spotless record before, would be driven to attempted murder by jealousy over a woman who rejected him. Had some similar obsession, gnawing away at Fortier, compelled him to his actions?
“True,” Kirk said. “Fortier was motivated enough that he was willing to blow himself up, along with everyone else, to get where he wanted, but what could be more important than his own life?”
“The devil if I know,” Scott said. “Perhaps he had a circuit loose in his wiring?”
“Unless,” Spock said, “he felt certain that the Chinook’s captain would accede to his demands, in which case his life was never actually at risk.”
“A hell of a gamble,” McCoy said, frowning. “Playing the odds with life.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Kirk gamed out the scenario. “We have no way of knowing what Fortier would have actually done if Yamada had called his bluff. He might have folded and accepted prosecution over death. As it was, however, his gamble paid off, as he had every reason to expect it would. Few responsible captains would not capitulate to save the lives of their passengers, at least where ordinary civilians are concerned.”
Kirk had on occasion risked the lives of his ship and his crew, sometimes even tempting death rather than surrender, but that was different. His crew knew the risks when they enlisted in Starfleet and accepted their postings aboard the Enterprise, just as they understood that sometimes their missions took priority over their personal safety. The captain of a civilian transport, whose primary duty was to see his passengers safely across the void, would necessarily have a different perspective. Fortier could have indeed felt confident that Yamada would not risk calling his bluff.
“But to what end?” Scott asked. “To be dropped off in an escape pod in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not quite nowhere,” Kirk said. “Mister Spock, if you could fill us in on the relevant geography?”
“Certainly, Captain.”
Spock inserted a microtape into the tri-screen viewer on the table, and Fortier’s image on the main viewscreen was replaced by a computer-generated graphic depicting the sector where Fortier had abducted Doctor Hamparian. A glowing red dot indicated the precise coordinates the spacejacker had directed Chinook to. Kirk grimaced at the dot’s relative nearness to the Klingon border, only a few star systems away. That was far too close for comfort.
“As noted by Captain Yamada in his testimony, the coordinates of the drop-off spot lie within a negotiated buffer zone between the Federation and Klingon space.” Spock zoomed in on the red dot, revealing it to be within a system labeled VXY-8P33. “In accordance with Federation regulations, the Chinook’s escape pods were equipped with rudimentary ion drives to allow them to reach the nearest safe harbor, assuming one was at hand. As it happens, this system contains only one Class-M planet within range of the pod: a world known to its pre-warp inhabitants as Atraz. Given that Fortier expressly selected the coordinates for his escape, we may safely assume he had studied the region and knew that Atraz was attainable by pod. I suggest we begin our search for Doctor Hamparian there.”
The planet appeared on the viewer, in shades of blue, green, and brown. Kirk noted with relief the absence of any moons, habitable or otherwise. Fewer locations to search or for Fortier to hide out at. Thank fortune for small favors, he thought.
“A logical assumption, Mister Spock, but how can we be sure that, instead of making its way to Atraz, the pod didn’t rendezvous with a ship that swung by to pick it up after Chinook fled the system?”
“We cannot,” Spock admitted, “but Chinook’s sensors detected no other vessels in the vicinity at the time of their departure. Furthermore, the presence of a Class-M planet conveniently within range of the pod is… suggestive.”
“Some would say suspicious,” Landon commented.
“That it is,” Kirk agreed. “If nothing else, it gives us a place to start looking.”
He hoped Spock was correct, and that Fortier and his hostage had ended up on Atraz, at least temporarily. If they had instead been intercepted by a ship piloted by unknown parties, they could be anywhere by now, including well into Klingon space. In which case their odds of recovering Hamparian became vanishingly small.
“There may be additional data to be found once we arrive at the system,” Spock said. “An extant ion trail leading from the drop-off point to Atraz perhaps, particulate antimatter residue, or energy signatures indicating the recent passage of another starship besides Chinook.”
“Aye, maybe.” Scott looked dubious. “But time is not on our side. Days have passed already since that blackhearted vandal absconded with the doctor, and any ion trails or other clues are dissipating as we speak. The trail is going cold.”
“Quite right, Mister Scott,” Spock replied. “All the more reason to reach the scene of the crime, as it were, before all evidence is lost. Working to our advantage, however, is that Atraz is a pre-spacefaring world and its system far away from any established space routes, meaning that whatever tracks remain will not have been muddied by any subsequent vessels traversing the region, in theory.”
McCoy eyed Spock skeptically. “And if we don’t find any lingering ion trails or some such? Then what?”
“We proceed to Atraz regardless,” Kirk stated. For lack of any better options, he amended silently.
“And then what?” McCoy asked. “We search the entire planet for two missing individuals? Need I remind you that planets are big places with plenty of places to hide? Why, I hear that some of them even have multiple continents and oceans to explore.”
“Four continents and nine oceans, Doctor,” Spock said, “but there may be ways to narrow our search when the time comes, depending on what we discover on our arrival.”
“Glad to hear it,” McCoy said without sarcasm. “For Hamparian’s sake.”
For once, he didn’t seem inclined to debate Spock. Like everyone, he was doubtless hoping that their famously brilliant science officer could point them in the right direction. Hamparian’s life—and the security of her classified scientific expertise—depended on it.
“What can you tell us about Atraz, Mister Spock?”
“Only what is in Starfleet’s databases. According to various long-range probes and scans, most of them conducted many years ago, Atraz is home to a preindustrial humanoid population predicted to be centuries away from developing spaceflight. There are a few major city-states, but most of the planet is still an untamed wilderness inhabited by various barbarian tribes, some more peaceful than others. Gravity and atmosphere are within conventional Class-M standards; the climate, naturally, varies from biome to biome. Significantly, Atraz is also off-limits to both the Federation and the Klingon Empire, per the Organian Peace Treaty.”
Kirk was acutely aware of that fact. “Which means any search party we dispatch to Atraz will need to be very discreet to avoid attracting undue attention.”
“Precisely,” Spock said. “Along with the treaty, the Prime Directive also applies here.”
None of which was going to make finding and rescuing Hamparian any easier if she was indeed being held prisoner somewhere on Atraz. Nor could they necessarily count on the Klingons to abide by the terms of the treaty if they had conspired to get their hands on the kidnapped scientist. They’d been pushing the limits of the treaty, meddling and scheming to bring other planets and resources under their influence, since before it was even signed.
“I’d like to volunteer for any search party, sir,” Landon said, speaking up. “From what I gather, she sacrificed herself for the sake of everyone else on Chinook. I can’t say I like the idea of her being on her own now, wherever she is.”
“Request duly noted and appreciated, Yeoman.” Kirk knew Landon could handle herself in a tight spot and deal with harsh, even savage circumstances; she’d proven that on Gamma Trianguli VI and subsequently. “I’ll take it under consideration.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“Just so long as the bloody Prime Directive doesn’t apply to Fortier getting what’s coming to him,” Scott muttered balefully. “Threatening to dissolve a baffle plate in a warp engine, what kind of monster even contemplates such a thing?”
“You’ll get no argument from me, Scotty.” Kirk had not forgotten what had become of the Antares after Charlie Evans had telekinetically deleted a baffle plate from the cargo ship’s engines; there had been nothing left of the Antares and its crew except a few scraps of debris. “But let’s be clear on one thing: Recovering Hamparian, both for her sake and for the sake of Federation security, is our top priority. Apprehending Fortier and bringing him to justice is a secondary concern.”
“Amen to that,” McCoy said. “The sooner we rescue her, the better.”
Spoken from the heart, Kirk thought; he knew he could count on McCoy to keep the human element of this mission in focus, despite any other issues involved. “My thoughts exactly.”
Leaning forward, Kirk activated the intercom at the control panel before him.
“Kirk to Bridge. Mister Sulu, increase speed to warp eight.”