STAR TREK: The Lost Era - 2298 - The Sundered

by Michael A. Martin

  Both groups are quick on the trigger, Sulu thought. And each is prepared to destroy Excelsior for its cause. He knew he had to decide soon which was the deadlier adversary. At this moment, it was the Tholians who posed the greater threat to Excelsior’s safety. If his crew was going to survive long enough to find a peaceful resolution to the Tholian-Neyel conflict, the Tholian energy web that had snared both Excelsior and Oghen’s Flame had to be dealt with first.

  “Drech’tor Joh’jym, how can I persuade your people to call a truce with the Tholians?” Sulu asked.

  Joh’jym, Oratok, and Jerdahn all looked at him as if he had suddenly sprouted another head. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Joh’jym spoke. “Why would we want peace with these ... Tholians? They are beneath us, mere animals to be destroyed. After this war is finished, then there will be peace. One way or another.”

  It was worth a shot, Sulu thought. “I expected that to be your response. But we are faced with a dilemma, Drech’tor. Neither your ship nor mine is currently able to escape or defeat the Tholians. We don’t have many choices: we can call for a truce between you and the Tholians; we can allow them to destroy us; we can fight until we are both destroyed; or we can work together to find a way to escape.”

  He paused for a moment. “For my crew, I would choose the last option. There is an ancient saying in the literature of Old Earth: ‘For he who fights and runs away, May live to fight another day; but he who is in battle slain, Can never rise to fight again.’ ”

  [257] Jerdahn and Oratok exchanged glances and nodded. Then Joh’jym grinned at Sulu. “I would agree. What do you propose?”

  Sulu briefly looked at Akaar, Tuvok, Chapel, and Burgess, then turned back to Joh’jym and Jerdahn. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 22

  Sulu was feeling weary as he and other members of the boarding party stepped down from Excelsior’s wide transporter stage, then immediately scattered to attend to their various tasks. But he knew that he had to soldier on, fatigued or not. Too much was at stake.

  Luckily, the next few hours went far more smoothly than he had imagined possible, which cheered him considerably. Though he still harbored no illusions that Drech’tor Joh’jym and his ever-vigilant visor Oratok were prepared as yet to embrace any initiative aimed at ending their war on the Tholians, the Neyel captain not only had decided to allow the boarding party to return to Excelsior, but he also had signed off on Sulu’s idea of exchanging engineering personnel between the two vessels.

  After all, so long as both Excelsior and the Neyel vessel remained trapped by the Tholian Assembly’s potent energy webs, both ships, both crews, both captains had identical problems.

  I just hope that Commander Azleya doesn’t talk any of those Neyel techies’ ears off, Sulu thought, sipping his still-warm tea as the turbolift deposited him on the bridge. He’d seen how distracted his gregarious chief engineer could become when guests descended upon the engine room in [259] which she took so much justifiable pride. He wondered what it would be like to have a chief engineer who spent more of her time yelling, both at subordinates and visitors.

  From all the reports he’d received so far—including a scrambled subspace message from Jerdahn, who had stayed aboard Oghen’s Flame to assist the damage control parties working there—the two engineering teams seemed to be making excellent progress on a tandem escape tactic for both ships. It appeared that a modified version of Tuvok’s contingency plan—a limited disabling of the Tholian energy web by means of warp power channeled through the deflector grid—was going to prove useful after all.

  With any luck, Excelsior and the Neyel ship would both be safely across the interspatial rift before Yilskene’s fleet could do anything to stop it—and well before the deadline the Tholian admiral had given Sulu to prove that the Federation and the Neyel Hegemony were not allied against the Tholian people. Dr. Chapel had already reported that she was ready with theragen-based inoculations against the madness that close exposure to interspace was known to cause. (The Neyel were apparently far more resistant to the mind-damaging aspects of the phenomenon.) Soon, both Excelsior and the Neyel ship would escape into territory that, according to Joh’jym, was patrolled by enough Neyel ships to make Yilskene think twice about mounting a pursuit.

  But Sulu still found one thing troubling: After we escape, haw can I ever convince Yilskene and the rest of the Tholian power structure that the Federation can be trusted? He’ll be more convinced than ever that we’re in bed with his enemies.

  Unless, of course, a way could be found in the meantime to turn those enemies into something else entirely.

  Seated at her communications console, Commander Rand responded to a silent, flashing alarm. Touching the earpiece that dangled at the right side of her head, she turned toward Sulu, a look of apprehension on her face.

  [260] He sighed. He knew that things couldn’t go smoothly forever. Not with the clock steadily ticking toward Yilskene’s deadline—and Excelsior’s destruction.

  “Let me guess,” he said as Chekov relinquished the command chair to him and he seated himself. “Yilskene needs another hug.”

  “Something like that, sir,” Rand said, smiling a very small smile.

  Yilskene’s image appeared on the main viewer, rippled and distorted by his ship’s intensely hot atmosphere. Sulu thought that the Tholian admiral’s vaguely triangular, crystalline head looked like a sculpting student’s abstract study of the concept of outrage.

  “Good afternoon, Admiral Yilskene. What can I do for you?”

  “We have detected material transmissions being directed from your ship to the invader vessel,” Yilskene said without preamble.

  Recalling Tuvok’s earlier warning that their transporter activity might not go undetected, Sulu decided there was no point in denying it. “We have been supplying humanitarian assistance to the Neyel crew, Admiral.”

  “Then you admit to consorting with our foes?” Yilskene’s multilayered vocal chorus grew discordant as his anger escalated.

  “There were many injuries and casualties aboard the Neyel ship,” Sulu said, hoping to calm the admiral with dispassionate reason. “Because of our biological similarities, we were far better equipped to render such assistance than you were.”

  The port side turbolift doors hissed open, and Sulu’s eyes flicked momentarily toward the noise. He silently noted the arrival of Aidan Burgess and Lieutenant Akaar. With a grace that belied his size, Akaar silently crossed to the tactical station and began studying the displays there. The ambassador approached the railing that curved around the bridge’s lower section, her eyes riveted to the main viewer.

  [261] “We are not in the habit of offering succor to those who would kill us,” Yilskene thundered from the forward screen.

  Sulu kept his manner polite, but not obsequious. “We would have done the same for you, Admiral.”

  “Your continued fraternization with our enemies does not inspire my confidence, Captain. I believe you are attempting a deception.”

  “We’re still trapped in your energy web,” Sulu said, “We can’t go anywhere. What good would it do to try to deceive you?”

  In actual fact, Sulu hadn’t lied to Yilskene at all. Dr. Chapel and a medical team had gone aboard Joh’jym’s vessel to treat the injured. Some of the most severely debilitated Neyel patients had been transported back to Excelsior for more intensive treatment than the medics could provide on-site.

  He’d merely neglected to mention the Neyel engineers who had come aboard Excelsior, and vice versa, to work on their mutual escape plan.

  Hoping to move on to a possibly more fruitful topic, Sulu said, “Other than the safety of my ship and my crew, all I want is to find a path to peace for each of the parties involved in this situation: the Federation, the Tholian Assembly, and the Neyel Hegemony.”

  “And peace is the sole reason why I am aboard this ship,” Burgess said, descending to the lower section of the bridge, to stand beside the captain’s chair. Thoug
h Sulu found her intrusion irritating, he knew he couldn’t accuse her of meddling. He had just made a diplomatic gambit, and she was the ranking diplomat aboard; he had to remind himself that he was poaching in her territory.

  “I have a proposal to make,” she continued, still addressing Yilskene.

  The Tholian regarded her in silence for a moment. Sulu wondered if the admiral was assessing how far he could trust [262] the human diplomat who had already broken with her own people’s protocols to give him beneficial information.

  “I am listening,” Yilskene said.

  Burgess stood ramrod straight, looking every inch the confident statesman. “I wish to set up a three-way discussion, to include you, me, and Drech’tor Joh’jym of the Neyel Hegemony Fleet Cruiser Oghen’s Flame.”

  “We have attempted to initiate communication with these beings ever since our first encounter with them. They appear incapable.”

  “Members of your own science caste have concluded that we humans are closely related to the Neyel. Am I correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Since you and I are now conversing, Admiral, I must assume that you do not think of us as mere brutes who lack the power of speech. So why would you make the same assumption about the Neyel? Why not suppose instead that their mode of communication is simply greatly different from your own?”

  “That is as may be, Ambassador. But whether they be dumb or articulate, our adversaries clearly lack the translation devices with which you communicate with us.”

  Burgess nodded. “Our universal translator has gone a long way toward bridging the gulf of mistrust that has for so long separated us. I believe it can do the same for you and the Neyel.”

  Yilskene moved forward, and his face grew even larger on the main viewer. “Such devices may indeed prove useful. Principally in dictating the terms of their surrender after we annex their space, destroy their warfleets, and begin Tholia-forming their worlds for colonization. Yilskene out.”

  The admiral’s image vanished.

  “That went better than I expected,” said Chekov, who was leaning on a railing to Sulu’s right.

  “Damn,” Burgess said. “I thought I had him.”

  [263] “It was a good try, Ambassador,” Sulu said.

  “Not nearly good enough. Yilskene’s just as bad as Joh’jym. I’m beginning to think that the only way to get them talking is to lock the two of them in a room equipped with a universal translator.”

  “And a squad of armed guards,” said Chekov. Turning to Rand, he asked, “How much time do we have left to make our case to Yilskene?”

  “A little over three and a half hours,” Rand said.

  Yilskene made his ultimatum more than eight hours ago, Sulu realized, his fatigue catching up with him. No wonder I feel so wiped out.

  Tuvok rose from the main science station and faced Burgess. “With respect, Ambassador, perhaps it was a tactical error to remind Yilskene that he will require our assistance if he wishes to speak with the Neyel.”

  She bristled. “Really?”

  Tuvok seemed unaware of, or at least unfazed by, her evident anger. “Indeed. As a member of the warrior caste, his pride may be exceedingly vulnerable. I have witnessed similar reactions in numerous non-Vulcan spec—”

  “I wasn’t aware that you were a credentialed expert on exopsychology, Lieutenant,” Burgess snapped, interrupting him.

  He blinked at her, now seeming to comprehend the ambassador’s nettled response. “Perhaps you have helped underscore my point, Ambassador.”

  “All right,” Sulu said, stepping on Burgess’s rejoinder. “Perhaps a consultation with an expert is just what we need right now.” He pushed a button on the right arm of his command chair. “Captain Sulu to Lieutenant Hopman.”

  “Hopman here, Captain.” From the somewhat higher timbre of her voice, Sulu could tell that she was once again in her female phase. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to pick your brain about how to make nice with members of martial cultures.”

  [264] “I gather that Yilskene still doesn’t believe that we come in peace.”

  “No. And he’s liable to believe it a whole lot less once we break out of his energy web. Any thoughts?”

  “I’ve spent the last few hours poring through everything the library computer has on the Tholian warrior caste. Maybe ‘making nice’ isn’t the right way to win him over. If logic won’t persuade Yilskene of our benign intentions, then a little calculated violence might do the trick better.”

  “Explain.”

  “For centuries, members of the Tholian warrior caste have lawfully settled disputes with a ritual that translates roughly to truthcombat.”

  “Somehow I get the feeling that we’re not talking about filibustering in the government chambers.”

  “That’s right, Captain. It’s an ancient form of Tholian dueling.”

  “Pistols at dawn?”

  “Something you’ll like even better: swords. The truthcombat ritual reflects the warriors’ belief that the right or wrong of any dispute can be ascertained most accurately through personal struggle. The fight is resolved when either one party yields, or when one is dead.”

  That sounded pretty straightforward—and not necessarily lethal, provided Yilskene’s desire to survive trumped his anger. And provided I can beat him.

  “Do you think Yilskene might agree to make the release of Excelsior and the Neyel vessel contingent on the outcome of this ... truthcombat?” Sulu asked.

  Hopman hesitated, evidently already having surmised where his questions were headed. “I can’t say for certain, Captain. You’re not a Tholian, after all, so he might not regard you as a ‘peer’ with whom he can do lawful combat. But if he does accept a truthcombat challenge, he’ll be bound by both caste honor and Tholian law to abide by the results.”

  [265] Akaar moved toward the center of the bridge and spoke. “Captain, I respectfully request that I be allowed to represent Excelsior in this ritual.”

  “Request denied. Excelsior is my ship, and her safety is my responsibility.”

  An uncharacteristic look of concern crossed the huge Capellan’s face, but he relented. “Aye, Captain.” The words seemed to cause him physical pain, but he was too disciplined an officer to argue with direct orders.

  “Captain, I can see no logic in dueling with Admiral Yilskene,” Tuvok said, evidently not quite so concerned as Akaar with protocol. “The weapons would no doubt be some variant of the monoblade which Muskene used to assassinate Ambassador Kasrene. Even a glancing blow would be lethal. Logic suggests—”

  “Opinion noted, science officer.” Sulu rose from his chair and glared at the Tuvok. Though he appreciated his instincts, he did not enjoy having his orders questioned, especially right out on the bridge in front of everyone. “Now do I have to send you to Dr. Chapel to have your hearing checked?”

  Tuvok’s eyes bored into Sulu like mining lasers. “No, sir,” he said, then returned to his station.

  “Um, Captain?” It was Hopman’s voice, coming from the intercom on Sulu’s chair. “Not that I’m questioning your judgment, but I think you might not want to rush into this.”

  Taking his seat once again, Sulu massaged his temple, which was beginning to flare with an incipient headache. “Lieutenant, there’s not much time left. My only other options are either to protect the Federation’s honor by waiting around for Yilskene to destroy us, or to damage our reputation even further by escaping into Neyel territory through interspace.

  “I like the idea of a straight fight a lot better than either of those choices. Report to the bridge immediately. Sulu out.” [266] He punched a button, cutting off contact with Hopman. Then he turned his seat aftward, toward the communications station.

  “Commander Rand, open a channel to the Jeb’v Tholis.”

  “I accept, Captain,” Yilskene said. “I will be gratified to see this matter settled decisively.”

  Exchanging a quick glance with Lieutenant Hopman, who
had arrived on the bridge a few minutes earlier, Sulu tried to conceal his surprise at how little time the Tholian admiral had spent considering his challenge.

  “As will I,” Sulu said.

  “My compliments, Captain, for your willingness to follow the precepts of Tholian law,” Yilskene continued.

  Under other circumstances, Sulu might have basked in the admiral’s compliment. But considering that he and Yilskene would shortly become embroiled in a duel that could well leave them either maimed or dead, he decided that it was far too late to concern himself with diplomatic brownie points. The next few hours would be about survival, plain and simple.

  “When in Tholian space, one does as the Tholians do,” Sulu said.

  “Well said, Captain. Then I trust you are aware of the privilege of the challenged. The choice of venue for our truthcombat is mine.”

  Looking to his side, Sulu saw Hopman’s slight nod of affirmation. “I understand,” he said. “When and where?” Sulu hoped that the scheduling of the truthcombat might buy Excelsior at least a little additional time.

  “Where is here, aboard the Jeb’v Tholis. When is at the expiration of my original twelve-hour deadline. Will that give you sufficient time to craft an environment suit capable of sustaining your- life processes while you are aboard my flagship?”

  “Three and a half hours will be ample,” Sulu said. He was grimly aware that his skill with a blade would at least be [267] as crucial to maintaining his “life processes” as would his EV suit. He wondered how badly the suit would encumber his motions. Luckily, from what he’d observed of the Tholians, their own physiology didn’t permit them to move very quickly. Though Yilskene wouldn’t need to wear an EV suit in his own ship’s environment, the high pressure there would doubtless slow the admiral’s movements down even further.