by Diane Duane
Sarek stared blindly at T’Rukh, waiting for Spock to reappear. An hour passed…two. Three, and the ambassador still waited, barely stirring.
Finally he heard a step beside him, and turned, only to find that it was Amanda who stood there. Traces of weeping still showed around her eyes, but her features were composed. “Where is Spock?” Sarek demanded.
“He beamed out an hour ago,” she replied, her expression as cold as the snows of her homeworld. “Our son is gone, Sarek.”
The Vulcan heard her words, unable to believe that Spock had not reconsidered, had accepted the sentence his father had imposed on him, and had left to pursue this illogical, distasteful career choice. “Spock…is gone?” he asked, finally.
“That is what I said.” Amanda’s voice was flat. “He told me that you declared himvrekasht, my husband. How could you?”
“I was trying to make him come to his senses,” Sarek muttered, still stunned by her pronouncement.
“That was a terrible, unjust thing to do, Sarek,” Amanda said. “You have done the unforgivable. Spock is my son, and I will not support you in this.” She took a deep breath. “I cannot stay with someone who could do what you have done today. I am leaving you, Sarek.”
“You are…leaving? Amanda,” he said, carefully, “I do not wish you to leave.”
“You have no choice, Sarek. I cannot stay with you anymore…after this.” For the first time, Amanda’s voice faltered slightly.
Sarek, noting that, said, “But you will be back, Amanda. You will return…. ”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Sarek. Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I only know that I can’t bear the sight of you at the moment. Farewell.”
Without giving him a chance to say anything more, she turned and walked away, just as her son had. Sarek stood in his wife’s garden, bathed in T’Rukh’s harsh light, alone.
Alone…
Sarek watched as the door to the observation deck slid shut behind his son. His fingers tightened on Amanda’s journal. Today he would read of her days without him. She had been gone for nearly a year, and they had never spoken of that time after she’d returned. What had she done in all those days?
Today he would find out.
Those days without her had been the worst of his life…in some ways, worse even than now.
Why had she come back? Sarek still wasn’t sure. His father, Solkar, had died, and she had appeared without warning at the memorial service. At its conclusion, Amanda had simply walked over to him, taken his arm, and gone home with him as though she had never been away.
They had never discussed the separation.
Sarek took a deep breath and opened the slim red volume….
Spock walked along the corridor leading from the observation deck, almost wishing he had not left. His father had appeared so…alone. For a moment, Sarek had appeared actually…vulnerable.
But then memories of Amanda’s last hours surfaced, and the Vulcan’s lips tightened. Vulnerable? His father?
Reaching Kirk’s cabin, the Vulcan identified himself and was admitted. Kirk was still in uniform, though the captain had been off duty for over an hour.
“We will reach the rendezvous coordinates in one hour point thirty-two minutes,” Spock said, without preamble. “What are you planning to do, Captain?”
“We’re almost a full two days ahead of the deadline, Spock,” Kirk said. “Your father and I discussed this yesterday. He thinks, and I agree with him, that Kamarag is behind this. I believe he’s holding Peter on Qo’noS.”
“And?” Spock prompted, when the officer paused.
“And I’m going in to rescue him,” Kirk said. “With luck, I can take a shuttlecraft in, locate him by sensor, grab him, and get back to theEnterprise before Kamarag even reaches the rendezvous site.”
Spock nodded; he’d been expecting something like this. “I will go with you, Captain,” he said. “You cannot go alone.”
“I was planning to,” Kirk said. “Invading the Klingon homeworld single-handed is pretty foolhardy…even for me.” He shook his head, as if wondering at himself. “I can’t expect anyone to join me on such a harebrained mission.”
“You can expect your friends, Jim,” said a new voice, and Spock turned to see Leonard McCoy framed in the doorway behind him. “You know better than to think Spock and I would let you go off to tackle a whole planet of Klingons by yourself!”
Kirk grinned ruefully. “I guess I do,” he said finally, gazing at his friends and shaking his head. “After all, three stand amuch better chance than just one, against a whole planet…right?”
“You got it,” McCoy said. “Right, Spock?”
“Right, Doctor,” the Vulcan said, firmly.
Kirk spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. “All right, then…next stop, Qo’noS. I’ll meet you on the shuttlecraft deck in an hour.”
Eight
“Approaching Qo’noS, Captain,” Spock reported. “ETA to orbit, twelve point two minutes.”
Kirk, who was piloting the shuttlecraftKepler, nodded in acknowledgment of the Vulcan’s words. “Anything within sensor range?”
“I detect no military craft, just freighters.”
The captain checked his screens, wishing he had some idea of where on Qo’noS Kamarag’s ancestral home lay. Northern or southern hemisphere? Eastern or western continent?
“Spock,” he said, “what are our chances of tapping into the Klingon data banks and accessing some information?”
“I may be able to do so, Captain,” the Vulcan said, turning away from his sensor array. Like Kirk and McCoy, Spock wore a black jumpsuit designed for night raids. “What information do you wish me to access?”
“Kamarag’s home address,” Kirk said, dryly.
“I will attempt to access its location, Captain,” Spock said, turning back to his instruments.
“Y’know, Jim, this will be the first time we’ve actuallyseen Qo’noS,” McCoy pointed out. The doctor was sitting in the passenger seat behind the captain. “Last time we were there, we were shut up like mice in a shoebox, and shuttled around in closed vehicles.”
Kirk nodded. “We didn’t even see the planet from orbit.”
Spock regarded his console intently. “I have Qo’noS on-screen.”
Intently, Kirk watched as the tiny dot grew until, with magnification on maximum, they could see their destination. “Look at that,” Kirk whispered, after a moment. “I didn’t realize it had a ring!”
“That ring is much of what remains of Praxis,” Spock said. “There are several large chunks of the moon still orbiting Qo’noS, and corresponding gaps in the ring. This ring is…” He consulted his sensors. “…approximately two thousand kilometers across, and it orbits Qo’noS’s equator at a mean distance of eleven thousand, five hundred seventy-one kilometers.”
Kirk glanced at his own sensors. “There’s also a lot of asteroidal material in the system,” he said.
“Correct. A large number of asteroids will impact the planet in approximately fifty years.”
Kirk stared at the planet that was growing in their viewscreens. “Now all we have to do is avoid detection by the Klingons while we locate Peter.” He gave McCoy a lopsided grin. “Sure you don’t want to change your mind about coming, Bones?”
“Too late for that, Jim,” he pointed out, smiling back at his friend.
Spock cleared his throat. “Piloting the shuttlecraft across the plane of that ring will be difficult, Captain. TheKepler ’s shielding is limited.”
“Why go near the ring at all?” McCoy asked. “You can surely plot a course that will keep us away from it.”
Kirk glanced at the ringed world, watching it grow steadily in their viewscreen. “If we go in directly, bold as brass, the Klingon sensors will be bound to pick us up, and we’ll have unwelcome surface-to-air company in no time,” he explained. “I think what Spock is planning”—he slanted an inquiring look at the Vulcan—“is to use the ring as a cover.”
; “Precisely,” said Spock. “As I mentioned before, sensors indicate that the ring has several gaps, caused by large chunks of Praxis acting as ring shepherds. Their gravitational force clears a small gap around them. I recommend that we traverse the ring plane through one of the larger gaps. Matching orbit with the ring, we can use it as a shield while we locate Peter.”
“How are you going to find him?” McCoy asked, staring mesmerized at the ringed planet. “It’s a big world.”
“I did manage to locate Kamarag’s ancestral compound in the Klingon data banks,” Spock said. “Thus we have an approximate idea of where to search. Mr. Scott and I modified the sensors to detect any human life readings. If Peter is the only human in that compound, we should be able to trace him.”
“It’s a good plan,” Kirk said, “but crossing the plane of the ring, even through the longest gap, will require some tricky piloting.”
“It is fortunate for us that the presence of the ring, and all the attendant meteor showers since the demise of Praxis, has evidently forced the Klingons to abandon whatever early-warning defense system their planet boasted,” Spock said, studying his instrument readouts.
“They probably still have a lot of meteor showers,” Kirk said, eyeing the ring. They were now close enough to it that, under the highest magnification, the ring was revealed to be made of millions of chunks of rock, ranging from pieces no bigger than a marble to huge boulders larger than theKepler.
Minutes later, the shuttlecraft was approaching the gap in the ring. Kirk sent the little vessel skimming along its edge, matching its speed; then he boosted theKepler ’s velocity slightly, aiming for the break, which was now clearly visible.
Qo’noS was an awesome sight: below them the planet turned, brown and greenish blue, its continents separated by shallow azure seas speckled with atolls. The three largest landmasses were edged by volcanic mountain chains, and it was evidently a far more seismically active planet than Earth.
From this distance, signs of civilization, at least on the daylight side, appeared minimal. Only a few angular blotches on the western side of the continent below them betrayed the presence of large cities.
But even the world turning below him could not hold the captain’s attention for long. As they sped along, Qo’noS’s ring dominated their view, spreading out before them like a golden plain studded with nuggets of all sizes. The ring was nearly two thousand kilometers wide at this point—and yet, it was far from solid. Glimpses of the surface beyond it came and went, depending on its density. Kirk’s eyes widened as he studied the vista.
“Shields at maximum, Captain,” Spock said. “Ready for crossover.”
“It’s a good thing we’ll be crossing over on the dayside of the planet,” Kirk said. “Otherwise, dust vaporizing against our shields would spotlight us from the surface, if we tried this on the nightside.”
“Will the shields hold?” McCoy asked tensely.
“Long enough to get us through,” Kirk said, hoping he wasn’t being overly optimistic. He kept his eyes glued to the last-minute course corrections flashing up at him. “Barring any major collisions, of course,” he added.
“Even though the gap is relatively free of large rocks, it still contains quantities of dust and small particles. The shuttlecraft’s shields were not designed for continuous bombardment, Captain,” Spock warned. “They may burn out.”
Moments later, the ring gap lay directly below them. Kirk’s fingers skipped nimbly across the controls as he delicately jockeyed the shuttlecraft into position. With a short blast of the maneuvering thrusters, the captain began the crossover.
Even here, in this relatively “clear” portion of the ring, they were buffeted by debris. The little craft bucked as the shields absorbed the impacts of direct hits from gravel-sized rocks—one, two, three…a dozen—Kirk lost count. All the while his hands moved, keeping them on course, heading them down and through the sparsest portion of the gap.
He was aware, peripherally, of Spock backing him from the copilot’s seat, making tiny adjustments that helped stabilize theKepler.
“Shields are weakening,” the Vulcan reported matter-of-factly. And then, a second later, he added, with a touch of excitement, “Captain, I am picking up Peter’s readings…. ”
“Where?” Kirk said. “Can you plot a course to bring us down near him?”
“Affirmative,” Spock replied, and, only a few seconds later, the heading the Vulcan had computed appeared on Kirk’s screen. Quickly, the captain laid it in.
“Shields are down by eighty percent,” Spock cautioned.
“We’re almost out of it,” Kirk said tightly, fighting the controls of the bucketingKepler. “Ten more seconds, and we’re home free!”
“Shields are weakening…weakening…” Spock said. Then the Vulcan added, matter-of-factly, “Shields are burned out, Captain.”
“We’re okay,” Kirk said, his throat raw with tension. “We’re out of it. Now all we have to do is—”
There was a sharp crack of sound as something struck theKepler, rocking the shuttle violently; then Kirk heard the high, thin shriek of escaping air pressure. “Bones, check the air pressure! Spock, take over!” he ordered, moving to locate the impact and exit points of the tiny rock that had struck them. Moments later, the captain saw with satisfaction thatKepler ’s automatic sealant system was working as it was designed to, covering the tiny holes. The whine of escaping air lessened, then stopped. Jim returned to his board.
Moments later, he knew they were in trouble. The shuttlecraft’s directional controls now responded sluggishly to his exploratory commands. “Damn it,” Kirk said, feeling theKepler yaw. “Piloting this thing down through atmosphere won’t be easy.”
“You goin’ to be able to land this crate, Jim?” McCoy asked, his voice carefully casual.
“We’re sure going to try,” Kirk said. Grimly, he fought the controls, struggling to keep the shuttlecraft on course. It wouldn’t help them to land safely in one of Qo’noS’s oceans, and he certainly didn’t want to find himself setting down thousands of kilometers from Peter.
It was a bumpy ride, nursing the crippled shuttle down through Qo’noS’s turbulent upper atmosphere, fighting to keep the little craft stable and on course.
Finally, they were approaching their destination. Red sunlight from Qo’noS’s setting sun splashed them as they headed down. Kirk wished for Sulu as he struggled to keep theKepler ’s landing skids parallel to the ground. It had been a long time since he’d landed anything in these conditions. Glancing at his course readouts, he realized that they were about six kilometers from his intended destination, and thought,Close enough. I don’t mind walking….
Glimpsing a gap in the tree cover below, the captain sent the craft down into it, and suddenly they were engulfed by huge trees with strange, feathery leaves and giant red seedpods.
“Come on,” he whispered to the little ship. “You can make it…almost there…” He made a last-minute adjustment, saw the ground rushing up toward them. Too fast!
“Brace for crash landing!” Kirk managed to shout, even asKepler ’s nose plunged downward.
The shuttlecraft hit, bounced wildly, struck again, bounced again, then, finally, stopped. Kirk pushed himself upright in his seat, looking around dazedly as he unsnapped his safety harness. “We made it,” he said, disbelievingly. He turned to regard his companions, who were both sitting up, their expressions somewhat dazed.
“Captain,” Spock said, “we should leave the vicinity quickly. Our erratic approach may have been sighted.”
“We obviously can’t escape in theKepler,” Kirk said, gazing ruefully at the damaged shuttle as they prepared to abandon ship. “Can you tell if there are any spaceports nearby?”
Spock held up his tricorder, nodded. “Fifteen and a half kilometers due west,” he said, “lies the port called TengchaH Jav.” He slung the instrument over his shoulder. Working quickly, the Vulcan opened the weapons locker, extracted three small phasers, ch
ecked their settings and power packs, then distributed one to each of them.
“I’m going to set the shuttle to self-destruct,” Kirk said, his fingers moving over the controls.
“Be sure you give us time to get out of range, Jim,” McCoy admonished, scrambling hastily out of the craft.
After setting up the self-destruct sequence, Kirk, with Spock and McCoy behind him, walked away from the doomedKepler. Jim gave the little craft a valedictory pat as he left, wishing there were some way to salvage the ship.
The three set off, walking quickly into the forest, picking their way over rocks and fallen logs, as the night gathered around them.
Once you step upon this path,Valdyr warned herself,your life as a Klingon will be over. There would be no place for her anywhere in Klingon society, not on Qo’noS, not on her colonies, not anywhere. She would be outcast, scorned and marked for death. She closed her eyes, struggling not to let the magnitude of her plan stay her hand.This is the path before you, she reminded herself.For you, it is the road of honor, whether any other Klingon anywhere in the universe ever realizes that.
For the final time, she checked her weapons. Under her sleeve, against her forearm sat her small, wicked, three-pronged dagger, where a sudden jerk of her wrist would release it. At her right hip hung the small, silent crossbow that had been her favorite weapon since childhood. While it was best used in close conditions, it did not have the hum and whine of modern weapons, and would not reveal a concealed shooter. Under her breastplate sat two hand disrupters, their battery packs fully charged. She touched the weapons one final time. Then she took the key to Peter’s cell. He was still her prisoner.
Straightening her armor and tunic, she left her room and headed for her uncle’s private quarters. Du’Hurgh, Kamarag’s ancient family estate, was a massive, old fortress, with dozens of rooms and numerous passageways and staircases. Taking an obscure route, she came to her uncle’s quarters stealthily, concerned that Karg might have guards posted, but there were none. And why should there be? After all, who would dare enter Kamarag’s private quarters in the ambassador’s own home? His simpleminded, weak niece? And even if she did, what could she do there?