by Greg Cox
“We have unfinished business here,” he explained, “and questions that demand answers before we can depart in good conscience.”
Simon returned to her post. “Can’t argue with that. I’m in no hurry to abandon our people on the planet.”
“In the meantime,” April ordered, “I want regular updates sent to Starfleet Command, both by subspace bursts and periodic log buoys.”
Starfleet wouldn’t receive the projectile buoys right away, but they increased the odds that the information would not be lost if the Enterprise was. Given the potential danger posed by the Jatohr, April thought it vital that Starfleet and the Federation got word of what was happening on Usilde.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Sanawey said, carrying out the orders. “Launching first buoy, containing all relevant log entries and sensor scans.”
“Thank you, Claw. Keep the brass back home informed.” April rested his chin on his knuckles, gazing pensively at the spinning green-and-blue planet on the viewer. “Now we simply have to find a way to defuse this crisis, before anyone else is lost.”
Only one option presented itself.
“Contact the Jatohr on that same frequency,” he ordered. “Tell them I want a face-to-face meeting . . . on their turf.”
“Captain!” Simon protested. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more so,” he replied. “Make it happen.”
And pray that my silver tongue is up to the task.
Eleven
“I have to say I don’t like this.”
Doctor Sarah April was not just the Enterprise’s chief medical officer, she was also the captain’s wife. A slender woman in her forties, wearing her blue Starfleet scrubs, she had come straight from sickbay to the transporter room. Concern showed in her sea-green eyes. Her hair was the same auburn hue it had been when April had first met her back on Earth all those years ago, when he’d thought that she was easily the prettiest veterinarian he’d even seen. That was before he had sweet-talked her into signing aboard the Enterprise.
“Can’t say I’m fond of the idea myself,” he said, preparing to beam down to the citadel. He’d traded his favorite sweater for his best dress uniform, the better to make a positive first impression, although he wondered just how fully a race of paranoid gastropods grasped the nuances of humanoid apparel. “But it may be our best chance at breaking this bloody stalemate and turning this fraught first contact around.”
“I know,” she sighed. “And I know you feel you have to do this, for duty’s sake.”
He appreciated that she didn’t try to talk him out of it. She was a Starfleet doctor after all, which meant that she accepted the inevitable risks of interstellar exploration as a necessary part of their mission. And, like him, she worked hard at not letting their personal relationship get in the way of their professional duties, which was not always easy at times like this.
“Just be careful,” she added.
“When am I not?”
“Do you really want a list?” she said, smiling wryly. “To start with, there was that carefree jaunt into the Neutral Zone . . . ”
He held up his hand to forestall a longer recitation of his crimes against caution. “Point taken, love, but I’ve always come home safe and sound, haven’t I?”
“Only because you know I’d never let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.” Sarah clasped her hands together to keep from wringing them. “Seriously, Rob, are you certain you don’t want to at least take a few security officers with you just to be on the safe side?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to be in the belly of the beast, surrounded by the Jatohr in their own fortress. I doubt that a little extra muscle would make any difference if matters take a turn for the worse, so why put two more lives at risk?” Worry over Una and her landing party played no little part in his decision. “And arriving with an armed entourage might send the wrong message, given that the intent is to convince the Jatohr that we come in peace.”
“But what if they’re like the Klingons,” she asked, “and won’t respect you unless you look ready to put up a fight?”
“Then I may be making a strategic error,” he conceded, “but heaven help us if we start approaching every new species as though they were Klingons.” That sounded like a recipe for constant galactic strife to him. “Besides, we’ve already presented a show of strength by giving them a taste of the Enterprise’s lasers.”
“And suppose they try to ‘disappear’ you the same way they did those poor people on the bridge?”
“In which case I would be no safer than if I remained on the ship. And it’s not as though I’m beaming down without any protection.” He patted the standard-issue laser pistol at his hip. “But it’s the Enterprise’s formidable firepower that is most likely to encourage the Jatohr to be on their best behavior during my visit. Or at least that’s the idea.”
Sarah gave up trying to talk him into an armed escort. “Well, clearly I’m not going to change your mind, so I’ll have to trust that you know what you’re doing. Just come back soon . . . and bring our people home.”
“My top priority, I assure you.”
Which was true enough, but he was all too aware that the situation on the planet was far more complicated than that. He feared privately that he might have to choose between protecting the Usildar and making peace with the Jatohr, which was not a moral dilemma he was eager to confront, particularly now that he’d seen firsthand how ruthless the Jatohr could be when it came to other species. Honoring the Prime Directive was one thing; electing to save his own people at the expense of an entire alien culture felt less like prudence and more like brutal self-interest.
First things first, he reminded himself. We’ll cross that bridge when it looms before us.
He turned toward the transporter crew. “Are we ready to proceed?”
“Aye, sir,” Celeste Darcel replied. “I’ve keyed in the coordinates sent to us by the Jatohr; there were some language issues, but math is math and we managed to sort it out. By my calculations, you’ll be beaming right into that citadel of theirs.”
Although committed to his course, April acknowledged a touch of trepidation. He was practically delivering himself to the Jatohr on a plate.
“Well, at least I won’t be needing my hiking boots.”
Undeterred by the presence of Darcel and her assistant, he gave Sarah an affectionate peck on the lips before stepping onto the platform.
“See you as soon as I’m able, love. Don’t wait up.” He nodded at Darcel. “Energize.”
He took one last look at Sarah’s brave features before the sparkling veil of the transporter effect came between them. The annular confinement beam whined in his ears. He felt his body tingle from the inside out and . . .
He arrived at his destination, which turned out to be a sophisticated-looking command center populated by several Jatohr, all of whom gaped at his sudden appearance in their midst. He imagined they didn’t often have aliens materializing right before their eyestalks.
“Matter stream transmission across space!” a shiny black Jatohr enthused. “Remarkable!”
“And dangerous, Professor Eljor,” a larger slug added sternly. “Do not overlook that!”
April recognized the second speaker as Commander Woryan, the Jatohr who had demanded the Enterprise’s surrender earlier. Did their reactions mean that the Jatohr did not possess transporter technology of their own? Then how had they removed those crew members from the bridge?
His hopes of recovering those people diminished. If they weren’t simply snatched away by a transporter beam . . .
“Surrender your weapon,” Woryan demanded by way of a greeting. “Or your spy will pay the price.”
April spotted Lieutenant Una being held off to one side. A pair of Jatohr guards flanked her, securing her arms with their claspers. He was glad to see the
precocious young officer in one piece, but where was the rest of the landing party?
“Una.” He glanced around the chamber. “Where are the others?”
Her doleful face and tone answered before she could. “They’re . . . gone, sir.”
“Gone?” He could guess what that meant, but felt compelled to ask, “Do you mean—”
“Your weapon!” Woryan interrupted. “Surrender it at once!”
“All right, all right.” April slowly removed the pistol from his hip, taking care not to make any sudden moves that might provoke the Jatohr, and handed it over to a waiting underling. “There we go. No need to make a fuss.”
Starfleet really needs to develop smaller, less conspicuous sidearms, he decided. I should write a memo to that effect, if and when I get back to the ship.
Una tried again to update him on the landing party. “They just vanished, sir. One minute they were there, then—”
“Quiet, creature!” Woryan slimed toward April. “You are not here to confer with your leader.”
April suspected that Una was present only to serve as leverage. He didn’t want her hurt and punished for no reason. “At ease, Lieutenant. I get the picture.”
Martinez and the others had apparently been removed the same way those unlucky souls on the bridge had been, consigned to the same unknown fate. Finding out what had actually become of them was a question he still needed answered, the sooner the better, but he feared he was not going to like what he heard.
“Commander Woryan,” he addressed the Jatohr leader, who was somewhat taller than April had anticipated. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“The pleasure is ours, Captain.” The smaller, inkier slug slid forward. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Eljor, the commander’s scientific advisor. Needless to say, I have many questions about your people and your origins.”
Pure intellectual curiosity, April wondered, or is hir interest more strategic than scientific? He resolved not to give away the store on this first encounter. Loose lips and all that.
“I’m pleased to make the acquaintance of you and your people. I regret that we find ourselves in an adversarial situation, but perhaps we have simply gotten off on the wrong foot.” He realized belatedly that the Jatohr only had one foot apiece and regretted the turn of phrase. “I sincerely believe that we can resolve any misunderstandings between us, so that my people and yours can make peace with each other and avoid any further conflict.”
But what of the Usildar? his conscience pricked him. What of their destiny?
“What misunderstandings?” Woryan challenged him. “You are not Jatohr and we caught your spies invading our domain and installations, even as your fearsome warship hangs above our heads.”
Well, when you put it that way, April thought. Despite the loss of his own people, he tried to put himself in the Jatohr’s shoes, if only to try to defuse this crisis before more tragedy ensued. “I apologize for not alerting you to our presence earlier. Our landing party was merely trying to avoid interfering with your affairs.” He almost added “before we knew more about the situation,” but caught himself in time lest he make their discretion sound merely provisional. “And the Enterprise is not a warship. We’re explorers in search of knowledge. Any weapons we possess are for self-defense only.”
“Defense against whom?” Woryan asked. “Your enemies?”
April parsed his answer carefully.
“The galaxy is a vast place, inhabited by many intelligent species and civilizations. Some, alas, are less friendly than others.”
Woryan’s facial tentacles shot up in alarm. Clearly agitated by April’s revelation, the Jatohr commander conferred anxiously with hir subordinates in an unintelligible tongue that stumped even the universal translator. The captain shot a quizzical look at Una, who shrugged helplessly.
Eljor came forward, less visibly perturbed than hir comrades.
“You fascinate me, Captain. How many worlds have you visited? How many different sentient species exist in this universe?”
“This universe? Do you mean galaxy?”
He’d assumed that the Jatohr were a spacefaring people as well, since they had obviously come to Usilde from another world, and yet they seemed stunned by the revelation that there were many other inhabited worlds and systems.
“Not just the galaxy, no. We are indeed newcomers to this realm.”
April wondered if he had heard that correctly, or if maybe something was being garbled in translation. “You mean you’re literally from another universe? Another reality?”
Eljor started to answer, only to be cut off by Woryan.
“Do not indulge the creature’s curiosity, scientist. We have more important matters to attend to now that we know that our situation is even more precarious than we feared. It seems this realm is positively overrun with violent, warring creatures who will surely challenge our dominion over our new home. We cannot wait to expand our domain at our own pace. We must claim this Enterprise before it is too late!”
April thought he was beginning to grasp the bigger picture here. The Jatohr were pioneers, wary of a new strange reality they had barely begun to explore and all too conscious of the fact that they were surely outnumbered by this universe’s native inhabitants. Small wonder that the jarring appearance of the landing party had thrown Woryan into a panic. Suddenly they were faced with evidence of an advanced technological civilization that possibly rivaled their own—and that wasn’t going to be quite so easy to overpower as the hapless Usildar.
“But how did you get here?” April asked. “Where is your ship?”
“You are standing in it, creature,” Woryan said. “And threatening it with your energy weapons!”
April blinked in surprise. “The citadel is your ship?”
“More like a sanctuary,” Eljor clarified. “Capable of carrying us from one reality to another by means of—”
“But that is not enough now,” Woryan said. “We need your ship—a spaceship—to defend ourselves from a universe of rivals. We cannot wait to make our own way off this planet. We must secure the stars to truly make this new universe our home.”
This is just brilliant, April thought sarcastically. The more Woryan learned about the universe, the more paranoid and aggressive s/he became. Coupled with the Jatohr’s enigmatic super-weapon, their preemptive approach to defense made for an extremely dangerous combination. And if they should get control of the Enterprise . . .
“I’m sorry. You’re not getting my ship. That’s non-negotiable. But if you’re worried about the safety of your colony, perhaps our Federation can provide you with protection . . . or even a safer haven for your people.”
The latter option would be the ideal outcome for all concerned. The Federation could help the Jatohr resettle on another world, and the Usildar could get their own planet back. Everyone could pursue their destinies in peace if only Woryan could be persuaded that conquest was not the only path to safety for the Jatohr.
Unfortunately, that didn’t seem likely at the moment.
“We don’t need your Federation. We will protect ourselves . . . with your ship. But you are correct: this is not a negotiation.” Woryan loomed over April. “You will give us the Enterprise, and then you will tell us everything we need to know about your Federation and its rivals. Do not think that you have any choice in the matter.”
“But every other species does not have to be your enemy,” April insisted. “Our own Federation consists of myriad species from a multitude of worlds, all working together in harmon—”
“Creatures, not Jatohr.” Woryan was unmoved by April’s heartfelt words. “You are all nothing but creatures to be subdued—or removed—if the Jatohr are to thrive. We cannot sleep easy until this universe is ours.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Woryan.” April kept trying to reason with the Jatohr commander
, even though it was becoming clear that he was fighting a losing battle. “You can’t keep your people safe that way. You’ll just turn this entire universe against you.”
“Do not waste your breath, creature. The words of an absurd, two-legged animal mean nothing to the Jatohr.” Woryan gurgled to hir staff and April’s image suddenly appeared on multiple viewscreens. A second later, his figure alone was converted to a photo-negative image as though he had been “selected” in some fashion. “You have seen the power of the transfer field at work. Order your ship to surrender or you will be removed as well.”
The transfer field?
“Please, Commander,” Eljor protested. “Do not remove him. There is so much more that can be learned from examining a live specimen: his kind’s strengths, their weaknesses, their limitations . . .”
Scowling, Woryan gurgled another command. The photo-negative image of April went back to positive, although his figure remained upon the monitors. April took this to mean that he was no longer one button away from being removed.
“What about that one?” The impatient commander pointed at Una. “Perhaps he will be more cooperative if we threaten to remove the female.”
“I would prefer to retain both specimens,” Eljor stated, “for breeding purposes.”
Una looked more appalled than when facing the prospect of vanishing into thin air. “Now wait one minute!”
I’ll try not to take that indignant response personally, April thought drolly, despite the severity of the circumstances. Although I imagine Sarah might have strong words on the subject herself.
“What does one creature matter?” Woryan asked. “You will have your pick of specimens when we take possession of the ship.”
“If we can take possession,” Eljor said, “without destroying it or ourselves.”