2268
“Mister Spock, the BortaS is creeping closer to Atraz… again.”
“Acknowledged, Mister Chekov.”
Spock’s hands were steepled beneath his chin as he studied a strategic display of the two ships’ positions relative to each other and the planet. The graphic currently occupied approximately 85.23 percent of the bridge’s main viewscreen, with the remainder of the screen devoted to real-time observation of the actual battle cruiser, appearing as an inset window in the upper-right-hand corner of the viewer. A switch on the armrest of the captain’s chair gave him the ability to toggle between the two displays, although his Vulcan discipline kept him from overusing the function as a human might under similarly tense circumstances.
“Match their movements, Lieutenant Rahda,” he instructed the helmsman. “No more, no less.”
“Aye, sir. Just like before.”
For 28.9 hours, a duration long enough to span an entire cycle of duty shifts, the rival ships had been engaged in a slow, cautious dance, with the BortaS edging closer to Atraz in punctuated increments and the Enterprise countering to a precisely equivalent degree.
“What in thunder is he playing at?” Scott said in exasperation. He nursed a cup of black coffee as he manned the engineering station. “If he’s aiming for Atraz, why not just head straight into orbit instead of creeping up on it like this? It’s not like the Klingons to tiptoe around when they’ve got a target in their sights.”
“Do not underestimate their cunning,” Spock replied. He preferred tea and short periods of concentrated meditation to sustain him during this prolonged vigil. Although he had ordered the bridge crew relieved at suitable intervals, he had not surrendered the conn. “They can be subtle when they need to be. Recall their covert machinations on Neural and Deep Space Station K-7, as well as during the matter of the Dohlman of Elas, when we previously encountered Captain Khod. They understand the value of stealth, particularly when it comes to pushing the limits of the treaty.”
“Aye, Mister Spock, but they’re not exactly lurking in the bushes this time around. They’re flying their colors in plain sight for all to see, so why all this infernal pussyfooting?”
“Perhaps they are testing our nerve,” Spock speculated. “Or seek to provoke us into making an untoward first move so they can cast us as the aggressors in this affair.”
“Or maybe,” Uhura chimed in, “Khod can’t resist trying to get a slight edge on us, just to assert his dominance or whatever, like an impatient shuttle pilot who is always jockeying for a better position compared to other flyers, regardless of whether it serves any real purpose or not.”
“That is not logical,” Spock stated.
“Ego and testosterone seldom are, Mister Spock. And I suspect that applies to Klingons as much as humans. Maybe even more so.”
“A fascinating theory, Lieutenant, which had not occurred to me. Nevertheless—”
“Excuse me. Mister Spock, I’m receiving an urgent message from Galileo.” She adjusted her earpiece as she manipulated the communication controls to decrypt the transmission. “Acknowledged, Galileo. We’re reading you.”
“Put the message through, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir.”
Spock was understandably eager to hear word from the planet, but did not rush Uhura. He knew she would carry out the order as expeditiously as possible. Within moments, the voice of Ensign Akbari issued from the bridge’s speakers:
“Galileo to Enterprise. I’ve just received an update from the rescue party. Lieutenant Sulu, to be exact. They’ve found Doctor Hamparian… but lost the captain and Doctor McCoy.”
Spock instantly suppressed a spike of alarm. “Elucidate, Ensign.”
Along with the rest of the bridge crew, he listened intently as Akbari reported that Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy had been taken into custody by Atrazian city guards after a violent altercation with a Klingon landing party, who had also been intent on claiming Hamparian. According to Sulu, as relayed by Akbari, the rest of the landing party remained at liberty in the city, but had been unable to contact Kirk or McCoy, suggesting that the prisoners’ communicators had been taken from them. In addition, the leader of the Klingon landing party, a Colonel Yorba, had been apprehended along with the two Starfleet officers. Her men were believed to be still at large—a worrisome variable that complicated Spock’s calculations.
“And Hamparian?” he asked.
“Last seen consorting with the local authorities, unlike Fortier, who has come to a bad end.” She related the barbaric circumstances of the spacejacker’s demise; Spock mentally removed Fortier from the equation, while Akbari sounded grateful to have missed the grisly spectacle. “What should we do now, Mister Spock? About the captain and Doctor McCoy?”
“Remain at your post and keep us apprised of any and all new developments while awaiting further instructions. Enterprise out.”
Uhura ended the communication, leaving Spock to ponder the evolving situation on the planet and consider what actions might be required.
He was not the only one.
“We have to do something, Mister Spock!” Scott left his post to join Spock in the command well. Coffee slopped over the edge of his cup. “Things have gone from bad to worse, for the captain and Doctor McCoy.”
Spock knew the engineer’s agitation was surely shared by everyone on the bridge. He raised his voice so he could be easily heard.
“I quite agree, Mister Scott, but we must not act precipitously. Reaction without deliberation runs the risk of exacerbating an already volatile situation. Dispatching reinforcements by shuttle or even moving the Enterprise into transporter range could easily provoke a hostile response from the Klingons, whether that be firing on the shuttle or sending more of their troops down to clash with our people. An escalating conflict between rival forces on a neutral world is to no one’s benefit, and could conceivably endanger the fragile peace between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. Captain Kirk is well aware of the larger issues at stake here, so we need to weigh the potential consequences.”
“But we can’t just sit on our hands while the captain and Doctor McCoy are locked up in some bloody dungeon, facing heaven only knows what sort of brutality. You heard what the Atrazians did to Fortier.”
“Affirmative,” Spock said. “Yet I remind you that we already have significant assets in play on Atraz, including a shuttlecraft, the rescue party, and Captain Kirk’s own demonstrated tenacity and resourcefulness. He has escaped captivity, and survived all manner of jeopardy, on more worlds than I have time to enumerate. Furthermore, Mister Sulu and the rest of the landing party are also capable, experienced officers who can be counted on to make every effort to liberate the captain and Doctor McCoy, while dealing with the Klingons as well.”
“Aye,” Scott conceded. “The captain has pulled his haggis out of the fire many a time, that’s for sure, as have the doctor and Sulu and the others. But we also need to have their backs, or what are we even doing here?”
“Taking the necessary steps in a logical sequence,” Spock said. “Lieutenant Uhura, hail the BortaS once more.”
“I can try, sir.” She did not sound hopeful. “As you know, they stopped answering our hails some time ago.”
Spock was well aware of this. Enterprise had diligently hailed the BortaS each time the battle cruiser had moved nearer to Atraz, but Captain Khod had consistently declined to reply following his initial barrage of threats and accusations.
“Correct, Lieutenant, but the situation on the ground has changed substantially with the capture of one of their senior officers. Odds are Captain Khod is currently facing the same decisions and dilemmas we are. No doubt he has strong opinions on the subject and is highly curious regarding our next moves.”
“Understood, sir. Hailing the BortaS.”
Spock addressed Scott. “Before determining our course of action, let us first assess the Klingons’ present attitude and intentions. This knowledge can only aid us when it comes to anticipating their responses.”
“No argument, there, Mister Spock. Always better to examine a tricky situation before hammering away at it. Measure twice, phaser once, as they say.”
“My thoughts exactly, Mister Scott.”
Mere moments elapsed before Uhura announced, “The BortaS is responding to our hail.”
Scott chuckled. “You had his number, Mister Spock.”
“So it appears.” Spock doubted that Khod would be any less belligerent than he was the last time they spoke, but that did not preclude extracting valuable information from the encounter. “On-screen, Lieutenant.”
Khod’s surly countenance reclaimed the viewscreen, although the BortaS remained in view in the inset window in the corner. The irate Klingon eschewed any formal salutations before launching into invective.
“Vulcan! You have the audacity to show your face after your captain’s bungling disrupted our intelligence operation on Atraz, resulting in the capture of a decorated officer of the Empire?!”
Spock rose calmly to his feet. In truth, he appreciated that Khod readily admitted that his Colonel Yorba had been detained along with Kirk and McCoy, as opposed to wasting time dissembling; perhaps the Klingon captain saw no point in denying that which had been witnessed by both landing parties. Or had his temper simply overcome his discretion? Both explanations were plausible enough. Spock was grateful for the results, regardless.
“Your perspective on recent events is debatable. My understanding is that it was your operatives who accosted our rescue party, and that Captain Kirk and his associates acted purely in self-defense.”
“Bah! You had no business being on Atraz in the first place. We were only responding to your shameless incursion on the planet.”
“I have already informed you of the extenuating circumstances necessitating our mission to Atraz, so there is nothing to be gained by relitigating the matter. Our time would be better spent focusing on our mutual need to rescue our respective comrades.”
Khod sneered from the screen. “What do you propose, Vulcan?”
“A truce to begin with. Beyond that, I suggest we share whatever intelligence we may possess or acquire regarding the captives’ whereabouts and situation. I also recommend that we bring both our vessels within transporter range of Atraz so that we are in position to beam our respective crew members to safety should the opportunity or necessity arise. This would, naturally, involve both ships being able to lower their shields without fear of attack from the other party.”
“Fear? You dare suggest that we should fear the Enterprise! Was that a threat… or are you calling us cowards, you Vulcan petaQ!”
“That was not my intent. Perhaps I misspoke and should have said ‘risk’ instead of ‘fear.’ ” Spock wondered if his father, a consummate diplomat, would have made that linguistic error. “I meant only that we can better achieve our common goal if we are not simultaneously on guard against each other.”
“Do you think me a fool as well as a coward, Vulcan?” Khod’s face was growing more flushed by the nanosecond. “A Klingon never lowers his guard, and certainly not in the presence of his foes. You defame my honor with your every breath. Keep your truce”—he spat the word as though it was an obscenity—“and stay out of our way. We require no assistance to clean up your stinking mess!”
Khod vanished from the screen, leaving only a view of his battle cruiser.
“The transmission has been cut,” Uhura reported, shaking her head. “What did I say about ego and testosterone?”
“Duly noted.” Spock did not bother asking her to hail the BortaS again. That would almost certainly be futile.
“So much for trying to talk sense to a Klingon.” Scott scowled at the screen as though Khod’s image still lingered there. “That went nowhere fast.”
“To the contrary, Mister Scott.” Spock itemized what they had gleaned from the brief, contentious dialogue. “We have verified that Colonel Yorba remains in the hands of the Atrazians, that Khod is agitated over this turn of events, and that we can expect no cooperation from the BortaS when it comes to rescuing the captain and McCoy.”
Or recovering Doctor Hamparian for that matter.
“No offense, Mister Spock, but I could have predicted that last bit, about the Klingons not playing well with others, that is.”
“Indeed, but it did us no harm to at least explore the possibility of a truce, no matter how improbable. Communication before conflict is almost always the logical choice, even when dealing with Klingons.”
“Amen,” Uhura agreed. “But what now, Mister Spock? The captain and Doctor McCoy are still in trouble.”
Spock returned to the captain’s chair, his mind made up. “Lieutenant Rahda, take us into standard orbit around Atraz.”
“Aye, sir!”
Scott’s expression brightened. “And if that ill-mannered Klingon objects, Mister Spock?”
“We will, as he advised, keep our guard up.” He pressed a button on his left armrest to alert the entire ship of his decision:
“Red alert. Shields on full.”