Sand and Stars

by Diane Duane

Suddenly, Uhura sat up straight. “Incoming transmission, sir. It’s…garbled…. ”

  “Put it on speakers, Lieutenant,” he ordered, swiveling his chair.

  “Enterprise,can you hear me? This is theKobayashi Maru,” a heavily accented Slavic voice reported. Peter strained to hear the woman, but the broadcast was dim and full of static.

  “Can’t you boost that, Commander?” he asked.

  Uhura shook her head. “Thatis boosted, sir. That transmission is coming straight through the Loop Nebula, sir. It’s a miracle we can hear it at all.” She frowned, concentrating intensely, and manipulated her board.

  “We have suffered a rupture in our matter-antimatter containment field,” the woman on theKobayashi Maru continued. “We have had severe damage to our life-support system. We’ve ejected our fuel to keep the ship intact, but we’re down to batteries now.”

  “Kobayashi Maru,”Uhura shouted, “what are your coordinates?”

  The transmission grew even fainter, and Peter strained to hear it. “Coordinates 3417, mark 6. We are five hundred thousand kilometers away from the Cygnus Loop Nebula, and drifting. Battery power can maintain life-support for one hour…repeat…one hour. If we don’t get help soon, three hundred sixty-two lives will be lost.Enterprise, can you hear me? We have one hour or less…” The voice broke up into garbled static.

  “Mr. Chekov, can you bring up schematics on the location ofKobayashi Maru?” Peter asked.

  “Aye, sir,” Chekov replied, and within seconds a graphic image appeared on the big viewscreen.

  The viewscreen before him showedEnterprise currently moving toward a huge nebula, a massive cloud of gas and dust, in colors of hazy blue, white, and pink. On the other side of the nebula, if the coordinates they had given were correct, the dying freighter,Kobayashi Maru, was drifting.

  Peter frowned. So far, the rumors had been correct. Thiswas a new scenario. With the exception of the familiar, damaged vessel, most of what was happening had been changed. For example, he now had to rescue the people on the ship, not simply the ship itself. Once they were aboard—assuming he got that far, which was highly unlikely—thenhe’d worry about how to put a tractor beam on the vessel herself. Could he tow her?

  Peter forced himself to consider the big picture. “Mr. Chekov,” Peter said crisply, “where are we in relation to the Klingon Neutral Zone?”

  Chekov’s hands moved over his board, and the viewscreen presented an image of the Neutral Zone in relation to the injured ship. “Three parsecs,” Chekov reported, “sir.”

  If they didn’t have to gointo the Neutral Zone, then what…? Never mind, theMaru didn’t have much time. “Mr. Chekov, plot us fastest optimal course, skirting the nebula as closely as we can without encountering interference. ETA to intercept?”

  Chekov acknowledged the order, did some quick calculations, then finally reported. “We can circle the nebula around its smallest side, and arrive atKobayashi Maru in fifteen minutes, sir. Optimal speed this close to the nebula…warp two.”

  “If I might suggest, Captain,” Spock interjected, “we could reduce that time by ten point eighteen minutes by goingthrough the nebula at warp one.”

  Peter looked back at the colorful schematic. That was true, but why did that make him uneasy?

  “We are the only ship in this quadrant, sir,” Spock continued. “And, as you yourself confirmed, we are a safe distance from the Klingon Neutral Zone. Going through the nebula would seem to be the most efficient course of action.”

  Peter set his jaw. “All of that is true, Mr. Spock, but going through the nebula leaves us blind, deaf, dumb, and helpless. We can’t even engage our shields in there. When we come out the other side there would be several seconds before we became reoriented.” He smiled at the Vulcan. “For some reason, that makes me uneasy,” he added, dryly.

  “Lieutenant s’Bysh.” He swung his chair back around. “Take us around the nebula using Mr. Chekov’s suggested course. Warp two.”

  He turned to address his first officer. “Mr. Spock, I want you to send a buoy with a long-range sensor scan in itthrough the nebula, that can send us back information on the conditions on the other side of the nebula, before we arrive there. It’ll stay ahead of us and help us pinpoint theMaru, or warn us of anyother possible problems before we stumble into them.”

  Spock reported the firing of the sensor buoy. Then, Peter slapped the console. “Engineering!”

  “Aye, sir!” a thick Scottish burr responded.

  Why am I not surprised to hear you?“Scotty, we’re going to need to beam over more than three hundred people in less than thirty minutes…. ”

  “It isna possible, Captain! If we used every transporter in the bloody ship it wouldn’t…”

  “The cargo transporters, Mr. Scott. Can’t they be adjusted to transport people?”

  “Aye, sir, but—” Scott began hesitantly.

  “Use all the cargo bays, and get everyone you’ve got on this. We need to be able to get those people on board fast, and from long range. There’s a cranky matter-antimatter pod floating somewhere around this area, so we’re not going to be able to get too close. We’ll be on site in ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes!” the Scotsman protested. “But, Captain…!”

  “You’re running out of time, Mr. Scott!”

  “Halfway around the rim of the nebula, sir,” Chekov reported dutifully.

  “Anything new from theMaru, Uhura?” Peter asked.

  “I can’t raise them, sir,” she informed him.

  “Long-range scanning, Mr. Chekov. Any signs of enemy ships out there?” Peter found himself twitching in the chair.

  Chekov shrugged, totally unconcerned. “Nothing, sir. But there have been no reports of hostile activity in this region.”

  “Is that right?” he murmured. This was wrong, all wrong. Where were the damned Klingons? Where was the enemy? This was tooeasy. He realized his mouth was dry. “Mr. Spock, are we getting any reports from that buoy?”

  “Yes, sir, data coming in now.”

  “Put it on the screen.” A new image came up, one that did not have the nebula. The nebula would be behind the buoy, so it would be offscreen. Before the buoy hung nothing but the blackness of space, and the twinkling of far distant stars. And in the foreground, but still at a distance, the crew could see a damaged ship, drifting aimlessly. Dangerously close to it remained the matter-antimatter pod. He’d have to make Scotty transport those people from the farthest reach of transporter range.Oh, damn, damn, damn…this is too easy.

  He blinked, staring at the viewscreen so hard his eyes burned.

  “Approaching the other side of the nebula, sir,” Chekov said quietly.

  “Course and speed, Captain?” s’Bysh asked.

  Peter’s head jerked up, and he stared at the innocent-looking viewscreen. “Lieutenant Uhura, any word from theKobayashi Maru ?”

  “Nothing, sir,” she reported. “I keep hailing, but…”

  “We’re past the nebula, they should be able to respond,” Peter said to himself.

  “Unless their accident has destroyed their communications abilities,” Spock suggested. “Shall we increase speed, Captain? We are still only traveling at warp two…. ”

  Peter cut him off with a quick chop of his hand. “Helm, full stop.” s’Bysh hesitated, and Peter shot her a look.

  “Full stop, aye,” she repeated, and obeyed.

  “Captain!” McCoy snapped. “We’re runnin’ out of time! Those people are breathin’ away the last of their air!”

  “Those people,” Peter informed his crew tightly, “are sitting in the middle of a trap. Mr. Chekov, what is our position relative to the Romulan Neutral Zone?”

  “Ve are just outside it, sir.”

  Oho! They almost got me there. If I’d gone straight in, I’d have been over the Neutral Zone before I knew it.Nudging Chekov over, Peter tapped in a sequence on his board. A scrolling line of data ran down the side of the viewscreen for the crew to see. “
Check out those readings. There are five anomalies surrounding theMaru, and each of those anomalies possesses a specific energy signature—a sure sign of cloaked vessels.”

  The cadet took a deep breath. “TheKobayashi Maru is being used as the bait in an elaborate trap. Yellow alert, everyone.” He turned to Spock. The Vulcan was clearly surprised by Peter’s announcement and was double-checking the readings. “They’re there, aren’t they, Mr. Spock?”

  Amazingly, Spock hesitated. “Data does seem to show certain anomalies….” He trailed off, and continued to check his viewscreen.

  McCoy came barreling out of his chair. “Well, what are we gonna do about those people? You can’t just leave ’em there, Captain!”

  “I have no intention of abandoning those people, Dr. McCoy,” Peter assured him, even as he began to unbutton his uniform jacket.

  “Captain, what is it that makes you think these anomalies are the readings of cloakedRomulan vessels?” Spock asked.

  Peter finished removing his jacket and draped it over the command chair. “Well, since we’re on the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone, and we’re currently wagingpeace with the Klingons, my guess is those cloaked vessels are Romulan cruisers…from the size of them. Call it a ‘gut feeling,’ Spock, but we’re about to test it out.” He pressed the intercom. “Mr. Scott, have one of your staff program the synthesizer to manufacturetwo Vulcanlirpas.” He turned to McCoy. “Doctor, please bring thoselirpas back to me as soon as they are ready.”

  “Lirpas?”McCoy drew himself up. “Me? What are you talking about,lirpas?”

  At the same moment, Scotty was saying,“Lirpas? Sir?”

  Peter’s voice took on an edge. “That was an order, Doctor! That was an order, Engineer!”

  McCoy cleared his throat, grunted, and left the bridge without further comment.

  “Lirpas?”Spock said, incredulously.

  “Mr. Scott!” Peter called, slapping the console hurriedly. “What’s happening with those transporters?”

  “We’re almost ready, sir,” Scott reported.

  “Power it up, Mr. Scott. Two minutes. On my signal.” He slapped off the con before Scott could protest again.

  “Excuse me, Captain,” said Mr. Spock in his driest tone. “If you believe we are confronting Romulan vessels, shouldn’t we engage our shields?”

  “No,” Peter countermanded, shaking his head. “We’re not in firing range, and we’re not going to be for three minutes. However, Mr. Spock, if any of those ‘anomalies’ move within the next several minutes, indicating that one or more of those vessels is approaching, you are to raise shields immediately. Understood?”

  “Aye, sir,” Spock agreed.

  “Enterprise,”a gasping voice called over the intercom, “batteries have ruptured and are draining. We have less than ten minutes’ air…. ” The garbled message was drowned out in static.

  “Lieutenant Uhura,” Peter instructed, removing his vest, “beam a message to theMaru. Remind them of standard Federation evacuation drills. They should already have all personnel in spacesuits or encased in protective fields in accordance with abandon-ship procedures. We can’t afford to rush in there.”

  Peter turned at the sound of the bridge doors and saw Dr. McCoy entering, dragging two heavylirpas behind him. With a baffled expression, the doctor handed them over to the young captain.

  “Commander Uhura,” Peter continued, “open a hailing frequency in the direction of those cloaked coordinates. Prepare to transmit a message on wide beam.”

  He smiled at the bridge crew, knowing they must think he’d gone crazy. Maybe hewas crazy, because he was starting to enjoy himself. This whole situation was a real challenge, and he already knew he’d kept his ship from being blown to smithereens far longer than most candidates made it. Of course, it was all for nothing if he couldn’t pull off the rescue of at least the personnel aboardKobayashi Maru.

  He looked over at Communications inquiringly.

  “Sir, hailing frequencies are open.” She looked over at Spock and shrugged.

  “This is Captain Peter Kirk hailing the commander of the fleet surrounding the injured shipKobayashi Maru. We are aware of the trap you have set and, frankly, Commander, I find your clumsy ployinsulting. In response to this slight, I now have something to say to you:T’kevaidors a skelitus dunt’ryala aikriian paselitan…Toriatal.” He heard Spock take a sharp breath that was almost a gasp. “Commander”—Peter dropped back into Standard English—“I issue this challenge under the ancient law ofToriatal. By rights, you must respond to my declaration.”

  Silence. Total, dead silence.

  Peter waited, sweating. It no longer mattered that it was just a simulation. He was as charged up as if he really were facing an invisible enemy. Clutching the twolirpas, he listened to the blood rushing in his ears.

  The simulation program,he thought as he waited.It’s trying to figure out how to respond to my challenge.

  Suddenly, Uhura’s mouth dropped open. “Captain,” she said breathlessly, “we’re being hailed…by the Romulan commander!”

  “On-screen, Lieutenant,” he said, as he lifted one of thelirpas and held it in a defensive position. The screen shifted, changing, showing the interior of a Romulan cruiser, and an image of a Romulan commander standing there.

  “Who are you to issue the ancient challenge?” the holo-commander demanded. “You are merelyhuman. I am not obligated to respond to anoutworlder who dares to issue theToriatal.”

  “Youare obligated,” Peter insisted, trying to remain cool. His shirt was sticking to him as he held the heavylirpa at the ready, with the other leaning against the command chair beside him. “The law is clear. ‘Whoever issues theToriatal challenge has the right to be answered. No leader may ignore a properly given challenge.’ I have issued it in the tradition of your oldest laws. What do you say? Do you accept the challenge? Or are you afraid to fight a human?”

  Again the long pause. Finally, the holo-commander said, hollowly, “I accept the challenge.”

  “The choice of weapons is mine,” Peter announced, “and I have chosenlirpas.”

  “Captain,” Spock said clearly, “several of the Romulan vessels are bringing their weapons on-line.”

  “Will you disobey your own law, Romulan, and allow your ships to fire upon us, even after I have issued the challenge?” Peter demanded. “If you do, you dishonor your own heritage! TheToriatal mandates a state of truce while it is in effect!”

  The holo-commander was still for nearly a minute; then the image turned its head and spoke to someone not in visual range.

  Peter saw Spock’s eyebrow climb. “Weapons…are being taken off-line, sir.”

  “Mr. Spock, I order you to beam me over to those coordinates,” Peter instructed his science officer. “While I am engaging the Romulan commander, you and Mr. Scott will beam over every survivor from theKobayashi Maru. As soon as you have them all, order full astern speed, and retreat back into the nebula. The Romulans will not be willing to follow you in there. From there, you can make your escape.”

  Before Spock could offer his own protest, McCoy blurted, “Are you crazy? He’s gonna slice you into ribbons with that thing, and while he’s doin’ it, his other ships are gonna play target practice with us!”

  “No, they won’t,” Peter told McCoy. “While the commander and I are in combat, his troops must, by law, hold their fire,as must we. But there’s nothing in the law that says you can’t quietly transport those people off theMaru and get the hell out of here.”

  “Captain, I cannot allow you to do this,” Spock said, quietly. “Even if you were to defeat the Romulan commander, it is unlikely they will return you to us. This is suicide.”

  Peter paused. “It’s a no-win situation, Mr. Spock, I’ll give you that. But only for me. TheEnterprise and theKobayashi Maru will be safe. And as the captain, my job is to insure the safety of the ship.” He picked up the secondlirpa and keyed the intercom. “Mr. Scott, stand by with those cargo transporters. Tr
ansporter Chief?”

  A mechanical-sounding voice said, “Transporter room, aye.”

  “Beam me directly from the bridge to the bridge of the Romulan vessel,” Peter said, and, checking Chekov’s readouts, gave the coordinates. “Energize!”What’s going to happen now? he wondered. Would they actually beam him someplace? Would he really have to fight someone?

  Suddenly, a voice outside the bridge doors called out, “Wait a minute, wait a minute! Open these doors! Lights on!” The bridge doors slid open and Commandant Kyle Anderson stormed in. “What the hell is going on here? Cadet, where did you come up with these ‘anomalies’ and energy readings you’re talking about? This is totally irregular.”

  Peter had to blink to reorient himself out of the simulation and back to real life. His blood pressure was up, and he was really ready for a good fight. “Here, sir,” Peter said, putting down hislirpa and walking over to Chekov’s console. “The anomalies are hard to spot, but the energy signature gives you something to look for…. ”

  “That’s impossible!” the commandant protested, not even looking at the readout. “No one can spot a cloaked vessel!”

  Spock suddenly cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Commandant, I am afraid that Cadet Kirk is correct. While he was aboard theEnterprise, I acquainted him with some research that Mr. Scott and I have been conducting. Our discoveries are still in the developmental stage, but, during our escape from Qo’noS, Cadet Kirk had occasion to monitor electromagnetic signatures on Klingon vessels.”

  “I see,” the commandant said, as Spock showed him the anomalies. “All right. I can see where that gave you an advantage in this scenario, but what’s all this nonsense about ancient Romulan challenges? Those ships would’ve blown you out of space while you were waving that thing”—he pointed to thelirpa —“in their faces.”

  Again, Spock came to his rescue. “With all due respect, sir, that’s not the case. That challenge dates from Pre-Reformation times on Vulcan, and is respected by the Romulans. Cadet Kirk issued it correctly, Commandant. Even his pronunciation in Old High Vulcan was nearly perfect.”

  “Hmmm,” the commandant said, “and they’d have to cease hostilities while he fought the commander?”