"Do it. Keep the number of technicians accompanying you to a minimum. You know why."
"Their recovery from the wee lass's voiced brainwashing. Aye, sair. Uh, all the aid I'll be requirin' is Chief McConel." Kirk turned and sharply looked at the engineering chief. She stood to one side, chewing on her tongue as she adjusted part of the stabilizer circuit. "She's the best I've got, Captain."
"I know. Get on with it. And stay in contact with Spock. He might be able to suggest something if you have any troubles."
"Sair, what we have to do isn't hard. It's just dangerous."
"Well, Spock, how're they coming?" Kirk demanded. He bit down on his thumb as he watched the tiny spacesuited figures moving about on the starboard engine pod. "What's their status?"
"Matters have not materially changed since you asked three point two four minutes ago, Captain." Spock seemed impervious to the tension that sparked like electricity around the bridge.
"Dammit, this is important. They're in mortal danger out there."
"Yes, sir, they are."
McCoy snorted. "Don't pay him any mind, Jim. He's got cryogenic fluid running through his veins. They took out any human feelings and put in machinery."
"Doctor, all my parts are original. As to your implication that nonorganic parts are somehow inferior, allow me to recommend several competent papers on the topic."
"Quiet," snapped Kirk. "Report, Spock. How's Scotty doing?"
As if in answer, the engineer's voice crackled over the ship's intercom. "The magnetic bottle has been reestablished, but 'tis not the proper configuration. The MHD flow is constricted."
"What's that mean?" asked McCoy. "MHD's got something to do with the bottle?"
"It is the magnetohydrodynamic system that is out of adjustment. Without perfect symmetry in the magnetic confines, the matter-antimatter reaction will be able to punch out and destroy the entire pod. The field must be uniform and totally symmetrical."
"Now I know as much as I did before I asked," grumbled McCoy.
"Scotty," spoke up Kirk. "Can you adjust it?"
"Aye, Captain. Heather's got the touch to do the fine adjustin' after I take care of the initial configuration. The only problem's gonna come when the flow starts. The slightest bit off and…" His words trailed off. There wasn't any need for him to spell it out. If Scotty failed to make the proper adjustments prior to energy flow being restored, they were all goners.
In silence they waited. Eventually Scott said, "Ready to try it? Good. Spock, give me one paircent flow."
"One percent flow now." The science officer watched his instruments and made minute adjustments. Lights began flashing on the engineering board. Chekov hurried over and, hands shaking slightly and sweat dripping from his face, reached out to press the large red button.
"Energy level reached," the young ensign reported. The tension faded from his face, a smile replacing the look of worry and stress.
"How's it doing, Scotty?"
"A bit more fiddlin', sair. There. Have it. Spock, give me another four paircent."
The slow escalation of power continued until they hit twenty percent; then alarms rang.
"Scotty!" yelled Kirk.
"Radiation leakin' from a thin spot in the bottle. Heather's workin' on it. She…she needs help." The radiation scrambled the rest of the engineer's words. On the viewscreen a tiny figure jetted toward the far end of the matter-antimatter pod. The two suited figures merged and became indistinct.
"Radiation level is increasing," reported Spock in a clear, level voice. "Mr. Scott, Chief McConel, return to the protection of the shields."
"Negative," came the faint response. "Gotta do it now or never. Will start chain reaction…don't try. Now!"
"Fluctuating power. Swings running eighty percent RMS values. Ask permission to shut down, Captain."
"No, Spock. Let it run for a few seconds more."
"It'll destroy the ship. Scott and McConel cannot possibly have survived the surge."
"I trust Scotty. I trust him."
"Sir, power's leveling at twenty-three percent," reported Chekov. "The fluctuations are gone. Stabilizer circuit is working now."
Kirk heaved a deep sigh. "Scotty, are you there?"
"Aye, Captain. Had a mite of a problem, but we worked it through. Heather's tunin' the dilithium crystal for proper resonance now."
"When will we be up to full warp power?"
"Hard to say, Captain. We still need to do the complete restart. This is just checkin' out the bottles."
"The Rotsler technique for warm restart of the engines is untried, Captain."
"Mr. Spock, I've just seen miracles worked out there. What's another one? I'm sure Mr. Scott can bring us to full power, whether this procedure works or not."
Within forty hours, the Enterprise had powered up to full warp capability. Within fifty, Sulu laid in a course for Ammdon.
Chapter Eleven
Captain's Log, Stardate 5011.1
The run to Ammdon was anything but routine. Mr. Scott performed services above and beyond the call of duty maintaining the warp engines. The condition of the MHD bottles is, at best, dangerous. He and his staff will receive commendations for their superb efforts. The remainder of the crew slowly returns to normal, with only occasional relapses attesting to the power of Lorelei's persuasiveness and sonic-laden words. Dr. McCoy assures me no one remains totally under the spell and that all show remarkably stable psycho-trace patterns, considering the rigors they have been through. Lorelei remains in her detention cell, unable to speak directly with anyone. And, in spite of everyone falling back into line, one major obstacle remains: the Ammdon-Jurnamoria peace talks. Without Ambassador Zarv and his diplomatic team, chances are slim that we can prevent the war. However, it is our duty as a Federation vessel to do all we can to avert this war and hold the Romulans at bay in the Orion Arm.
"Status report on the ships around us, Mr. Chekov."
"Captain, I do not know what to make of them. All warships. All heavily armed."
"Spock, comments?"
"Only that this armada is capable of destroying us. Even with the warp engines running at eighty percent full power, we must hold our energy use to a minimum. Use of power for the deflector shields might initiate instability in the magnetic bottles."
"War, Mr. Spock, is what we were sent to stop." James T. Kirk stared at the viewscreen. Moving dots showed the shifting patterns of warships in the Ammdon system. The Jurnamorians had come to the peace talks with most of their navy, it appeared. The Ammdons weren't taking it lightly; most of their fleet, more primitive than that of Jurnamoria but more numerous, maintained defensive positions to prevent mass bombardment of their home. The positions were well chosen, Kirk saw. Both sides had admirals of surpassing ability. In any confrontation there would be tremendous loss of life on both sides.
"Any way of defusing this powder keg?" asked McCoy, peering over his shoulder. Kirk turned and looked back at the doctor.
"Hardly. Turning back such large fleets isn't done in the blink of an eye. They'd also need a reason to return to their home bases."
"What are you going to do, now that Zarv and the others are gone?"
"That is something I haven't figured out yet, Bones. Suggestions? No? Mr. Spock, any ideas?"
"Sir, we ought to beam down to the surface and do what we can. I advise such a move be taken soon. I detect many aboard the Jurnamorian vessels priming their space cannon. Even if no direct order to fire is given, accidents do happen."
"And an accident can cause a war as easily as a direct command. Very well. Bones—you, Uhura, Spock and I will beam down. Mr. Scott is still in the engine room, I take it?"
"He is, sir," came Sulu's quick reply.
"Very well. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. If anything happens which is not of an engineering nature, get Scotty up here on the double. Otherwise, keep a close lookout on us. Beam us up if the situation merits it."
"Do you think it will, sir?" asked the Orient
al.
Kirk heaved a deep sigh and rose to his feet. "I hope not. But my skills as negotiator aren't as sharp as they are in command. I doubt either side will allow me to order them to cease and desist."
He motioned with his head toward the turboelevator and got the small band of officers together to beam down.
"Is he trying to be obtuse, sir?" asked Uhura. The Bantu woman worked the translation computer to give all from the Enterprise precise rendering of the rhetoric. "He talks in circles. It is not my computer's fault that it comes out gibberish."
"I know, Uhura. Calm down. Diplomacy seems to be ninety-nine percent hot air and one percent insanity."
"I'd argue the point and change it around, Jim," mumbled McCoy. "There's more insanity in this room than you can shake a stick at."
"While I see no functional value in doing as Dr. McCoy indicated, I do agree with his evaluation of the situation," said Spock. "No amount of talk will sway either side."
"But I've got to give it a try." Kirk rose to his feet, signaled for the privilege of speaking and was recognized by the moderator of the shouting match—Kirk could never call it a debate. It took several seconds for the echoes to die down in the immense room. The Ammdon chambers of state stretched for hundreds of meters. The high-arched roof gave the room the feel of a cathedral, and the coldness of the air added to that impression. The intricately carved wooden table held not only the sundry rubble of papers, portfolios and analyzing devices but also a fair number of small heating units to keep diplomatic hands free of frostbite. The Ammdon chambers had never been heated; no matter that the middle of winter gripped this side of the planet, the Council of Ammdon did not alter tradition by bringing in warmth.
In a way, Kirk thought this ironic. The words were heated and the mood icy.
He looked up and down the table. The vice-regent of Ammdon had seated the Enterprise officers midway along the table. To Kirk's right sat the vice-regent and his staff. To the left were Jurnamoria's Constable of Peace and her half-dozen advisers. Kirk surreptitiously adjusted a throat microphone Spock had bollixed together out of one of the communicators. The others had come prepared for the primitive conditions in the chamber; he hadn't known to come with an amplifier.
"Vice-Regent, Constable, we talk much and accomplish little. The issues dividing your two great worlds," he said, trying not to smile as McCoy muttered sotto voce, "Hogwash," and succeeding, "are not insurmountable."
"Wrong." "He knows nothing!" came the comments, much louder than McCoy's indignant snort.
Kirk held up his hand and got the silence he wanted. He knew instantly the silence wasn't accompanied by open minds.
"We of the Federation have proposed a peace plan which benefits both Ammdon and Juramoria. We offer the technical expertise to aid your ailing food industries, and there will be further financial assistance to build new industries. With your planets' drive and personnel and the Federation's vast wealth and knowledge, we can forge a new tomorrow. We can go forward arm in arm toward a future filled with prosperity—and peace."
"Pretty words," snapped the Jumamorian Constable of Peace. She sneered as she said, "What you offer Jurnamoria is nothing. Nothing! We do not need to be under the heel of alien aggressors. All we need is to have what is rightfully ours—and which they have stolen!" She stood and dramatically pointed at the vice-regent.
"There can be no off-planet ownership of Ammdon farmland," said the vice-regent in a polar voice. "And there will be no kowtowing to off-planet dictators!"
"Sir, Lady, please!" pleaded Kirk. It availed him nothing. The two threw insults back and forth until Kirk simply sat down to let them get it out of their systems.
"It was a nice speech, sir," said Uhura. "Even if they didn't listen."
"Thanks. I found it in Zarv's quarters. I wonder how much better he could have delivered it."
"Not much better, Captain," said Spock in a low voice. "My tricorder readings show intense agitation. A motion to adjourn until both sides reconsider and calm themselves would be in order."
Kirk nodded, rose to demand the floor again. What he heard froze him stiff with fear.
"Jurnamorian bitch! Your warships are nothing compared to the might of the Federation vessel circling our planet." The vice-regent's smile turned into a sneer. "The pact with the Federation demands their full defense of Ammdon. Take your fleet and return to your miserable hellhole planet.
Uhura's computer gave a startled yelp as the Constable of Peace answered her Ammdon counterpart. The insult she gave had no direct translation.
". . . we leave now. We shall see how this vaunted defense treaty stands. I think they are cowards. They wilt not fight. They will turn tail and run, leaving your rotten carcass in the sun for buzzards to pick over."
"It would seem, Captain," said Spock, "that a motion to, adjourn is superfluous."
"You have such a powerful grasp of the human condition that it amazes me, Spock," answered McCoy. The group from the Enterprise watched as the Jurnamorian constable of peace and her entourage stormed out of the chamber. The angry clicking of their bootheels filled the long, stonewalled room for long minutes after the Jurnamorians had vanished from sight.
"You see how it is, Captain Kirk?" asked the vice-regent. "So bullheaded. Refuses to even consider our side."
"Vice-Regent Falda, your approach needs polishing."
"I think not," the man said, his voice turning from silk to ice.
"Ambassador Zarv's untimely death no doubt contributed to the problems here today, but we require more freedom to prepare. Our subspace radio message to Starbase One will bring another qualified team in a month or so."
"A month? Hardly, Captain Kirk. With Jumamoria's fleet about our planet, we would not survive a month."
"A cease-fire can last indefinitely until a formal agreement is reached," Kirk said, grasping at straws. "If they withdraw to twenty AUs, will that satisfy you? With the detection equipment supplied by the Federation, this is adequate distance for you to spot a preemptive strike."
"No."
"The Enterprise will not fight Ammdon's baffles, Vice-Regent Falda. We remain neutral if you initiate hostilities."
Spock's communicator bleeped loudly. He turned to Kirk as he closed the device, saying, "I don't believe Ammdon will initiate battle, Captain."
"Why not?"
"Mr. Sulu reports that the Jurnamorian fleet has fired upon the Enterprise."
Kirk raced to the bridge, trailing his other officers behind like the contrail of a rocket plunging through atmosphere. Scotty had assumed command as soon as Sulu saw the Jurnamorian preparations to fire on the Enterprise.
"Report, Scotty."
"'Tis nae so bad, sair," he said. "The weapons they use canna penetrate our deflector shields, even at half power. But I kenna if we can fight and maintain deflectors. The fluctuations in the magnetic bottle are worsenin'."
"Danger?"
"Aye, Captain, if it continues much longer."
"Return to engineering and do what you can to keep things held together. I will not be using the phasers unless it is absolutely necessary, but I'll require full deflector screen before we're out of this."
"It'll be touch 'n' go, sair."
"I have every confidence in you, Scotty."
"Aye, sair." The engineer returned to his precious engines to keep them running as smoothly as possible to power the Enterprise for the fight slowly building all around.
"Sir, the Ammdon ships have returned fire. See?" The forward viewscreen detailed the burgeoning battle. At first, only a few traces indicated rocket fire between vessels. Then all of space lit like an RR Lyrae star as more of the warcraft launched their barrages. It quickly became impossible for the eye to differentiate between Ammdon and Jurnamorian ships.
"Spock, deflectors up to seventy-five percent full power."
"Powering up now, sir."
Kirk sat, chin in cupped hand, as he thought furiously. If the Enterprise so much as fired a single round of p
hoton torpedoes, the battle might be over. And Jurnamoria would be permanently in the Romulan camp. The few remaining crippled vessels would radio back to their home planet and report in full, if they hadn't already indicated that the Enterprise took part in the battle.
"Sir, do you want me to prepare a course to warp free of the planet?" asked Sulu.
"We can't run."
"We can't stay and fight, either," spoke up McCoy. "This ship is too much for any of them—any thousand of them."
"I know. Even if we use the phasers at low power, we can blow most of them out of the sky. Technologically, both planets are hundreds of years behind us."
"Only if you measure technological development as the ability to kill," argued McCoy. "What are you going to do, Jim? Lorelei was right, you know. Instead of us preventing a war, we set it off."
"It would have been different if Zarv and Lorritson and Mek Jokkor had been conducting the negotiations."
"I beg to differ, Captain," said Spock. "I recorded the entire proceedings and submitted them to detailed computer analysis. The situation had progressed too far for anyone to sway either party. The vice-regent's motives are remarkably like those Lorelei outlined. Likewise, the Constable of Jurnamoria refused to listen because of her antipathy to the vice-regent."
"Perhaps a conference with the individual parties," mused Kirk. "Instead of together we ought to have met separately, laid the foundations for a peaceful settlement, then met."
"Such is moot. There are no fewer than six warcraft firing upon us. The deflector screens are holding; however, a notable magnetic flux is being established in the warp-engine MHD bottles."
"Are the dilithium crystals holding? The instability isn't going to crack them?" Without the dilithium crystals, the entire exciter stabilizer circuit failed and the precious magnetic bottles collapsed. The Enterprise would either be dead in space again or in peril of exploding in one cataclysmic eruption of matter and antimatter.
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