by Dayton Ward
“Outstanding,” Okagawa said from where he stood next to his command chair. “Ensign Pzial, confirm that their navigator has the proper coordinates to get them home.” The Phylosians had been trapped inside the rift for less than a decade, and had leapt at the chance to escape. Al-Khaled knew that their home planet had already been alerted to the discovery of the ship, and he was sure that arrangements to receive the wayward travelers were already under way.
After leading the first vessel, a Talarian battle cruiser, back to normal space, the Lovell had remained on station while the others followed at varying intervals over the last forty-five hours. Of the other vessels that had been helped so far, each of their crews had similar stories to tell. They had been among the more recent additions to Elysia, and as such had not yet formed the steadfast bond that seemed to join most of those who had lived in the rift for greater spans of time. Still, many of the long-term residents had also changed their minds, citing first the Enterprise’s miraculous escape and the Lovell’s demonstrated ability to enter and exit the Triangle at will. As a result, they were making their own preparations to return to normal space and the worlds they had long ago left behind.
“Given the success we seem to be having here,” Okagawa said as he stepped around the helm console to take up his habitual stance of leaning against the forward bridge railing, “you can bet Starfleet won’t waste any time taking advantage of the situation.” Indicating the screen with a nod of his head, he added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Captain Sivok and the T’Saura received new mission orders that take them inside the rift.”
“If that is the case,” Xav said, “then I will be envious.” His gruff voice harbored more than a bit of what al-Khaled recognized as jealousy, but he knew it was more in jest than anything else. Disappointed though he might be at missing out on the incredible opportunity for scientific research the Triangle represented, the Tellarite also knew his place and his obligations were on the Lovell, which in all likelihood would receive its own new and markedly different assignment in short order.
Standing next to him at the engineering console, Moves-With-Burning-Grace said, “I for one would not envy the T’Saura if they should be given such a mission. To remain stationary for any length of time is not something I would enjoy. Our vessels are designed to travel the stars, after all.”
“Ready for warp eight, Grace?” al-Khaled asked, unable to keep the teasing note from his voice.
His expression neutral, the chief engineer nodded. “That would be an acceptable beginning, yes.”
Al-Khaled laughed at his friend’s deadpan response, knowing that there was more than a bit of truth behind the words. Descended from the Masai, an African tribe who had traveled to the desert planet Eristas during the first wave of colonization from Earth in the twenty-first century, Grace’s people had long been renowned for their almost religious appreciation for velocity. The names they took often reflected this symbolism, particularly with respect to those animals that moved with utmost speed and elegance. This, more than anything else, al-Khaled knew, helped to explain why Grace had left the Constitution refit project on Earth and requested reassignment to a ship—any ship—rather than remain stagnant at a planet-based facility.
“Captain,” he heard Xav say from the science station, “long-range sensors are detecting the approach of three vessels, all of similar configuration.” After a moment, the Tellarite turned in his seat to face Okagawa. “They’re Gorn.”
“The Gorn?” Okagawa exclaimed. “What the hell are they doing here?”
Al-Khaled exchanged puzzled looks with the captain. “Well, we know we’re not that far away from their territory. I suppose it’s possible they might be interested in what’s going on out here.” Even as he spoke the words, he felt a twinge of anxiety grip him. It appeared that zh’Rhun’s uncertainty about their proximity to the space claimed by the Gorn Hegemony had proven to be well-founded, after all.
“Their shields are raised and their weapons are powered,” Xav reported.
Zh’Rhun turned to the captain. “Recommend alert status, sir.”
“Do it,” Okagawa replied, moving toward his chair as he gave the order. “Shields up, but let’s leave the weapons on standby for the moment. There’s no need to rush into this with hot heads, and all that.” Waving to the viewer, he added, “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
Having never seen a Gorn ship himself, it was with no small amount of curiosity that al-Khaled turned to the screen. Displayed on the screen was a trio of wedge-shaped vessels. Large and bulky, they possessed no aesthetic qualities whatsoever, at least in the engineer’s opinion. Stabilizer fins mounted to the rear of the ships’ main hull sections implied the craft were maneuverable within a planet’s atmosphere.
Could ships like these have been used for the attack on Cestus III? The question came unbidden, rattling around inside his head and vainly searching for an answer al-Khaled knew he was unlikely to receive, at least not today.
“Where’s the T’Saura?” Okagawa asked.
“They are currently studying another portion of the rift, sir,” Xav replied. “Sensors detect no other vessels in their vicinity.”
Nodding at the report, the captain said, “Pzial, alert Captain Sivok to our current situation, and advise him to maintain his current position. When you’ve finished that, hail the Gorn.”
Moments later, the image on the screen shifted from the three vessels to show what al-Khaled surmised was the bridge of one of the ships. Cloaked mostly in shadow, the chamber did not offer much in the way of detail that he could see, except for the lone figure seated in the center of the frame. Large and muscular, the Gorn regarded the Lovell’s bridge crew with silvery, seemingly compound eyes peering out from under horned brow ridges that echoed a third ridge dividing his skull. Al-Khaled felt himself gripped by an involuntary shiver as he noted that the creature’s most intimidating feature was its mouth, with its double row of sharp-fanged teeth peeking from behind curled lips.
The Gorn was speaking in its native language, the flurry of hisses and clicks no more pleasant than the alien emitting them.
“What’s he saying?” Okagawa asked.
“One moment, sir,” Pzial replied, “The universal translator is deciphering and comparing it against the limited samples of Gorn dialects we have on file.” Several moments passed before the Rigelian turned in his seat once again. “Switching over now.”
The bridge’s ambient noise was cut by a deep-throated voice. “…speak to us immediately, we will be forced to take action to defend our interests.”
Standing up, the captain raised his voice in greeting. “Gorn commander,” he said in a tone that al-Khaled hoped retained its friendliness as it was washed through the translator, “I am Captain Daniel Okagawa of the Federation Starship Lovell. We experienced some initial trouble with your message, and ask that you repeat it.”
There was a pause, perhaps while the Gorn captain received the translation of Okagawa’s message, before the large reptilian being leaned forward in his massive chair. Al-Khaled caught himself leaning back in his own seat in response to the Gorn’s gesture as the alien finally replied.
“I am Lahr,” came the computer-generated voice, “commander of this Hegemony protector vessel. We have noted the increased traffic of vessels in this region of space, an area we have long believed to be a spatial trap for unfortunate ships. What is happening here?”
Keeping his hands behind his back and adopting what al-Khaled hoped was a diplomatic and, more importantly, nonthreatening stance, Okagawa replied, “We have recently developed a means of safely traversing the Delta Triangle. In doing so, we have discovered many other ships from a large number of spacefaring races that have been trapped inside what is best described as an alternate universe. We are now using our newfound abilities to assist some of those vessels to leave this region and return to their home planets.”
Lahr appeared to digest this information for several seconds. When
he responded, his voice seemed to take on an added layer of menace. “Tell me, human, is there one named Glind among them?”
Okay, that one was out of left field, al-Khaled thought.
The captain nodded. “Yes, that’s right. It may please you to know that there is a thriving community inside the rift, and that Glind plays an integral role in its government.”
Though al-Khaled did not think the Gorn captain could appear any more ominous, that was exactly what happened as the alien rose from his chair, muscles rippling beneath his thick, dark skin, and stepped forward until his visage nearly filled the screen.
“He is also a wanted criminal, Captain,” Lahr said, “and we want him. Now.”
Standing once more before the Elysian Council, Daniel Okagawa allowed himself a brief moment of contemplation. After all, navigating dicey diplomatic waters was not a specialty for which he had ever considered himself well suited.
Where the hell is Ambassador Fox when I need him?
“According to Gorn law,” he said to his audience of twelve, “murder is a crime for which there is no statute of limitations or other comparable legal term of expiration. Even though Glind and his accomplices left their homeworld more than a century ago, they are still criminals in the eyes of the Hegemony.”
“We are aware of this, Captain,” Xerius replied from his seat at the center of the group of council members, “as we have been since their arrival.” He gestured with an open palm to where Glind sat at the far end of the conference table. “It was obvious from the amount of damage their vessel had sustained prior to entering Elysia that they had been in some sort of confrontation, and it did not take long for Glind and his companions to confess to their crimes.”
“The damage was inflicted during our escape from authorities,” Glind said. “Only our falling into the trap that is the Delta Triangle saved us.”
Nodding, the captain said, “When they lost track of you, the Hegemony closed the matter, believing you to be lost forever.” Casting a downward glance toward the floor, he added, “That’s changed now, however, thanks to us. With a proven ability to enter and exit the Triangle at will, they either want you extradited back to normal space, or else they want the technology given to them so that they can come in here and retrieve you themselves. Their concern is that, now a proven method of leaving the rift is available, you and your friends will use that knowledge to escape from here, and from them.”
The corners of Xerius’s mouth turned down in a disapproving frown. “Though we of course do not condone such actions by members of our community, it is Elysian law that citizens cannot be punished for crimes they have committed prior to being stranded here. It is a valued tenet of our society, one that must be preserved if new arrivals are to feel they have any chance of acclimating to this reality. In the case of the Gorn, Glind and his people have proven themselves over time to be valued citizens. We cannot allow them to be taken from here if they choose not to leave of their own free will.”
Okagawa’s attention was drawn to the sound of the doors at the near end of the council chambers parting, revealing an exotic-looking alien woman. Fair-skinned and with flaming red hair piled high atop her head, the woman’s narrow facial features and her yellow, catlike eyes that possessed an almost hypnotic allure easily identified her to the Lovell’s captain as a native of the Omega Cygni system.
“Welcome, Magen,” Devna said from where she sat next to Xerius. “Is something wrong?”
There was a look of worry in the woman’s eyes as she replied, “We have seen the presence of the ships beyond the barrier. There is much anger and distrust, and it threatens our sanctity.”
Sensing the mood of the council beginning to shift, Okagawa said, “Yes, we know of the psionic abilities some of your people possess. For what it’s worth, I conveyed that information to Captain Lahr, and we were at least able to reach a temporary understanding. They have no immediate plans to enter the Triangle, and I’ve convinced him that I need time to consult with my government before we can move forward.”
“It does not matter,” Glind said after a moment. “We have means of protecting ourselves from outsiders, and we will not leave this place. You have our word. My people will understand.”
Unable to suppress a tired smile, the captain shook his head. “Trust me when I say that, right now, your people are very skeptical. Still, Lahr is willing to report to his superiors that there may be a workable solution here. In order to secure his cooperation, I had to promise that you won’t leave Elysia, at least until this matter is settled.”
“That is most impressive, Captain,” Glind replied. “Given my people’s aggressive nature, I would not have expected such a compromise to be possible.”
Nodding in agreement, Okagawa said, “From what I know of your people, you’re probably right. However, we’ve had some limited contact with the Gorn in the past, a fact that seems to have helped us here.” In truth, Lahr had been the one to bring up Captain Kirk’s encounter with another Gorn vessel at Cestus III. The honor and integrity demonstrated by the Enterprise commander even when locked in mortal combat had earned him, and by extension the organization he represented, a measure of respect in the eyes of the Hegemony.
But it won’t last forever, Okagawa reminded himself. We need to come up with a solution here, and fast.
Chapter
6
“And considering the length of time the people of Elysia have been together and in light of the very real society they’ve formed here, they should be allowed to decide for themselves whether they leave, and their wishes should supersede those of any outside influence, be it ours or anyone else’s.”
Okagawa halted his dictation, reaching up to rub his tired eyes. “Computer, pause recording.”
Seated in the only other chair flanking the small desk in the captain’s quarters, Commander zh’Rhun regarded Okagawa with an expression of worry. “Are you all right, sir?”
The captain shook his head. “I’m fine. I just want to make sure I get the wording of this right. Diplomacy has never been my strong suit, but it takes on a different level of complexity when you can’t even rely on real-time responses to your questions or concerns.”
Leaning against the wall of Okagawa’s quarters with his arms folded across his chest, al-Khaled nodded in sympathetic agreement. A subspace message transmitted from their current location would take nearly three weeks to reach Starfleet Command, leaving the captain in the unenviable position of having to anticipate wishes and decisions that might not be conveyed to him for more than a month while continuing to deal with the fluid and chaotic situation unfolding right in front of him.
“If Starfleet agrees with your line of thinking,” zh’Rhun said, “and the Gorn really do intend to stay in Elysia, then it would be equivalent to their being granted asylum.”
Okagawa reached for the cup of coffee near his right hand and took a sip before replying, “I’m no lawyer, but it seems to me that there’d be some kind of precedent for what I’m proposing. A colony that’s declared independence from its homeworld…something.” Shrugging, he added, “I’m sure there’s a legal expert or diplomat who can find some way to justify it and back us up, but saying they support our position and their being able to help us defend it are two different things entirely.”
“Somehow I don’t think the Gorn are going to side with our lawyers or politicians,” al-Khaled said, shaking his head. Despite the Gorn captain’s agreement to allow Okagawa a chance to consult with his superiors, the engineer knew that the situation here, already tense, would likely continue to deteriorate.
“Agreed,” Okagawa replied, “which is why I’ve already dispatched a call for any Starfleet ships in the area to get here as quickly as possible. Ensign Pzial tells me that the Lexington is already en route, but Commodore Wesley says he can’t get here in less than eighty hours even at his ship’s maximum speed.” He released a tired sigh. “For better or worse, we’re on our own until then.”
&
nbsp; Though no one in the room said anything further, al-Khaled figured that the thoughts running through his own mind were not all that different from those preoccupying his captain and Commander zh’Rhun. The Lovell and the T’Saura were not ships of the line, possessing only minimum armaments and defensive systems. While the Lovell itself had benefited from a team of engineers eager to upgrade the ship’s systems far beyond their expected operational efficiency, even that would not be enough should the Gorn ships summon reinforcements.
Enough of that, he thought, chastising himself for concentrating on aspects of their current circumstances over which he had no control. As an engineer, he knew he should be focusing on ways to improve their situation in any way possible. Sooner or later, Captain Okagawa would want options, and he needed to be ready. Focus, Mahmud.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of a red alert klaxon, and the captain’s quarters were suddenly bathed in harsh crimson as the alarm indicator mounted over the door began flashing.
“Bridge to Captain Okagawa,” said the voice of Lieutenant Xav through the intercom system. “Sir, two of the Gorn ships have broken from their formation and are maneuvering away, and sensors show that the remaining ship is launching an unoccupied craft.”
Sharing a puzzled look with zh’Rhun and al-Khaled, Okagawa’s brow knit in alarm. “What the hell are they up to now?”
The turbolift ride from deck three to the bridge was quick, but not quick enough for Okagawa’s liking. If al-Khaled had not known better, he would have sworn the captain was pushing through the still-opening doors even before the car had stopped moving.
“Report,” he said, bypassing his chair and instead moving around the helm console to stand near the forward bridge railing.