“Pardon?” Laspas asked him through a mouthful of food.
“It’s an old Earth expression,” Kirk explained. “It means, basically, when you’re in a strange land, you should follow the customs of the natives.”
“Oh,” said N’Mi, the first word she had uttered in their presence. “We’ve offended you.” Spock noticed her attention focused on the empty plate before him, which he had not yet made the effort to fill.
“Not at all,” Spock assured her, as he accepted the bowl Kirk now passed to him. “Merely an observation of different social norms.”
“One of many, I’m sure,” Satrav said, just before sinking his teeth into what appeared to be the roasted leg of a small game animal and ripping flesh from the bone.
“And yet, at the same time, so similar,” Laspas said, while sucking on a stripped leg bone of his own. “It’s simply remarkable: a whole new civilization, a whole other Domain on the far side of the Keempo Expanse, run by a new race: humans!”
“Well, first, I need to make it clear that humans do not run the Federation,” Kirk said, after quickly swallowing his food. “Ours is a democratic union made up of nearly two hundred different representative species.”
Satrav smiled tightly. “And yet, you and your senior officers are all humans.”
McCoy nearly choked, holding back a laugh. “Sorry,” he said, covering his mouth.
“Is something wrong?” Laspas asked, concerned.
Rather than answering, McCoy turned to Spock expectantly. The first officer glared a moment longer at the doctor, then said to Laspas and the others, “I must correct your misperception that we three are all humans. I am of a different race, called Vulcan.”
All three of the Domain officers looked stunned. “You are?” N’Mi asked.
“What? You didn’t notice those points on the sides of his head?” McCoy asked.
Laspas tilted his head as he considered Spock and his ears. “I’d assumed it was merely a minor genetic variation.”
“And you are the officer second in command of your ship?” N’Mi asked.
“I am,” Spock told the chief, who appeared to be astonished by this revelation.
“It seems I’d misjudged you,” Laspas interjected. “Based on the encounter with your landing party, and before understanding Mister Spock’s nature, I assumed your crew was all human.”
“No,” Kirk said. “Granted, the majority is human, but in addition to Mister Spock, we also have several other races represented: a Caitian, a Triexian, an Efrosian . . .”
“But they’re exceptions?” Satrav asked.
“Well . . . yes, unfortunately,” Kirk allowed. “Starfleet started out as a human organization, before the Federation was formed just over a hundred years ago. Even though the space fleets of all our member worlds were brought together under the Federation Starfleet umbrella at that time, the process of integration has been a slow one.”
Spock added, “My own father is a high-ranking Federation diplomat, who has spent his career strengthening the ties between Vulcan and the other member worlds, and even he was opposed to my joining Starfleet.”
“How interesting,” Laspas said, leaning forward on his elbows. “The Domain and the Defense Corps have always believed our greatest strength has come from bringing as many different and diverse peoples together as possible in working toward the common good. Take the Liruq,” he said, gesturing to N’Mi. “For years, we were at war with them. A stupid, bloody, and pointless war that cost tens of millions of lives, including N’Mi’s own family. But Lir was eventually brought into the Domain, and that young war orphan has grown up to be the highest ranking Liruq in all of the Defense Corps.”
“A most noteworthy distinction,” Spock said, nodding his head to the chief, who had her own chin modestly tucked to her chest.
“Indeed it is,” Kirk agreed. “And I believe that people like Spock—and I assume, like Chief N’Mi as well—can serve as examples and as inspiration to others of their kind.”
“But being the only one of your kind on a ship that’s commanded by a human,” N’Mi said, looking to Spock, “with an overwhelmingly human crew . . . don’t you find that makes it difficult to command the respect due to you?”
“On occasion,” he answered.
“What?” McCoy blurted.
Spock slowly turned to face the doctor, just as an expression of embarrassment came across his face. The Vulcan held his gaze for a second or two longer than necessary before saying, “I believe you remember Lieutenant Stiles, Doctor.” Seventeen months earlier, while the Enterprise was engaged alternately in the pursuit of, and evasion from, a Romulan bird-of-prey, the former Enterprise navigator had accused Spock of being an enemy collaborator due to his nonhuman heritage. “However, on the rare occasion when I’ve had to deal with illogical, prejudicially-based attitudes,” Spock continued, turning back to N’Mi, “I have always managed to negate the biases of those individuals, and prove myself worthy of their regard.”
“I suppose there are always such difficulties where beings from different worlds come in contact,” Laspas said.
“But the rewards for working through those difficulties are, I believe, more than worth the effort,” Kirk said.
“Hear, hear,” McCoy immediately interjected, though he avoided looking at either Spock or Kirk as he spoke.
Before the captain could continue, he was interrupted by the whistling signal from his communicator. “I beg your pardon,” Kirk said to Laspas as he stood up and moved away from the table to answer. “Kirk here,” he said once he had pulled the device out and opened it.
“Scott here, Captain,” Kirk heard the distinctive burr of the chief engineer from his communicator. “I apologize for interrupting your meal . . .”
“But I’m sure you wouldn’t do so if it wasn’t something serious.”
“Aye, and it is serious, sir,” Scott said. “We’re not going to have a functional warp drive for at least six weeks, sir.”
“Six weeks?” The captain turned his face briefly toward Spock, awash with emotion. “That is not acceptable, Mister Scott.”
“Believe me, sir, I don’t want to accept it, either. But the pylon supporting the starboard warp nacelle took critical damage during the Taarpi’s attack. If we were to attempt to go to warp in our current state, the nacelle would be sheared right off.” Were that to happen, the uncontrolled warp field collapse would rip the Enterprise’s hull to pieces.
Kirk drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Scotty . . . when you say six weeks . . .”
“I mean six weeks, sir,” Scott affirmed. “If we were at a starbase, with a dedicated crew of specialists working round-the-clock shifts, we might be back in shape in two, two and a half weeks. But we’re talking about multiple EVAs to work on the exterior of the ship, of the kind we’re really not equipped for. Out here, left to our own devices with no other support . . .”
Kirk’s face turned ashen as Scott trailed off, and Spock understood the reason for the physiological response. Even in the best of circumstances, extravehicular activity carried extreme risks. And although every person aboard the Enterprise had undergone Starfleet’s required micro-g training and its basic engineering courses, only a very limited number of crew members could reasonably be expected to perform such critical exterior repairs with any level of proficiency. In Spock’s judgment, Scott’s estimate of six weeks, rather than being overstated as was often the chief engineer’s wont, may have in fact been overly optimistic.
“Understood, Mister Scott,” Kirk finally said. “When we return to the ship, Mister Spock and I will stop by engineering to go over the details. Kirk out.” The communicator’s hinged antenna clacked shut, and for several seconds, Kirk stood stock-still and silent, his eyes unfocused and unseeing, lost deep in thought.
That silence filled the dining hall as all eyes fixed on Kirk. Finally, McCoy broke the wordless lull with a low, concerned “Captain?”
That was all it took to s
pur Kirk, causing him to rein back his emotional reaction to Scott’s report. “I’m sorry, Commander Laspas.” Kirk gestured to Spock and McCoy. They both stood, and the Domain officers did so as well. “I appreciate your having invited us here this evening, but we really need to get back to our ship.”
“I understand,” Laspas said. “Is there anything we can do to help? Perhaps N’Mi or her staff could assist in some way?”
“Begging the commander’s pardon,” Satrav interrupted, “but we have our mission. We cannot spend weeks in this system for these aliens.” He then turned to Kirk and added, “I don’t wish to seem unsympathetic . . .”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Kirk told him. “And while I appreciate the offer, I wouldn’t wish to strain our new friendship. You have your duties, just as we have ours.” Kirk then put on one of his characteristic smiles, though Spock could clearly see how forced it was. “We’re a resourceful lot. I’m sure we’ll manage to work these matters out.”
They left the dining hall, and from there a waiting guard led them back the way they had come. “If I may, Captain,” Spock asked as they followed behind their escort, “how certain are you that we can successfully effect these repairs in our current situation?”
Kirk gave him a glum look. “Let’s just say, I wish I were more certain.”
“Damn,” McCoy said, “I was afraid you’d say that.”
* * *
Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott plugged the last of his data cards into the slot on the bridge engineering station and called up the damage assessment overview. On the monitor screen overhead, a green wire-frame diagram of the Enterprise’s exterior appeared, with five of the component polygons highlighted in red, like the angry wounds they were. Scott stood up from his seat and turned to Kirk and Spock, who had been standing behind him. “Here are the areas of significant damage. The most serious of them is this one here,” he said, pointing to the base of the starboard warp nacelle pylon, where it met the main hull of the engineering section. He reached over and pressed a button, and the image switched to a closer view of that area. “The blow we took there had enough force to send the whole structure vibrating, riddling it with microfractures.”
Kirk frowned as he looked from the schematic to Scott. “But we will be able to make the necessary repairs, yes?”
Scott involuntarily grimaced as he said, “To a degree, yes, sir.”
“To what ‘degree’?” the captain asked.
“Any repairs our crew would be able to make would only be temporary ones, at best. We just don’t have the equipment or matériel to do more than that on our own.”
“So, these six weeks of repair you describe,” said Kirk, frustration coloring his tone, “they would only be so that we could get back to Federation space, in order to get more repairs.”
“I’m afraid so, sir. And, I’m afraid there’s more.”
Kirk pressed his fingertips to his temple. “Do I want to know?” he asked.
The engineer wished he could answer “no,” but of course the captain needed to know the full extent of their situation. “Because of the nature of the temporary repairs, we’d be limited to the low end of the warp scale. The higher our velocity, the greater the risk to the ship.”
“How long would it then take to get to the nearest Starfleet facility?” the captain asked.
“We would be able to reach Starbase 43 in approximately ten weeks.”
“Four months lost,” the captain fumed. “Plus however long we need to be in drydock.” For several seconds, no one on the bridge said anything. The Enterprise had only recently passed the halfway point of their five-year mission, and no one liked the idea of being out of commission for any more of their diminishing time than necessary.
Then Spock asked, “What will you require in order to meet your six-week repair estimate, Mister Scott?”
“I’d like to have every crew member aboard with the appropriate engineering cross-training to give me three shifts a week,” Scott told him. “Also, I think we need to change the protocol for environmental suit use.”
Spock said, “You wish to have all the environmental suits in use at once, with none kept in reserve in case of emergency.” Scotty nodded; the first officer, naturally, had anticipated his request. “I would recommend against this, Captain. Should a situation arise where one of those emergency suits is needed . . .”
“With all due respect, sir,” Scott interrupted, “we’re in an unexplored and dangerous part of space, with our closest help nearly a hundred light-years away. I don’t think we can afford to be that cautious.”
To the engineer’s surprise, Spock did not automatically contradict him or dismiss his argument as illogical or emotionally charged. Scott had actually been hoping the first officer would propose a better plan, or otherwise offer hope that the situation was not as dire as he’d believed. Scotty looked from Spock to Kirk, and judging from the expression on the captain’s face, he also had been disappointed that the Vulcan didn’t have a better solution.
Lieutenant Uhura broke into the discussion. “Captain? The commander of the Goeg ship is hailing us.”
Seemingly grateful for the temporary distraction, Kirk told Uhura, “Put him on the main viewscreen,” and stepped down into the command well in front of the astrogation console. The forward viewer switched to a close-up image of the alien captain’s lion-like face. “Commander Laspas.”
Laspas dipped his muzzle slightly. “Captain Kirk, has there been any change in your engineer’s repair estimates?” he asked.
“Unfortunately not. Why do you ask?”
“Because, if you still require the services of a repair facility, there is one nearby.”
Scott perked up at hearing that, as did everyone else on the bridge. “There is?” Kirk asked, a bright note of cautious optimism in his voice.
“Yes,” Laspas said. “At Wezonvu, twenty-two light-years from here.”
And the hope that had risen up in Scotty’s chest just as quickly crashed. “Unfortunately, without an operational warp drive, twenty-two light-years is still an impossible distance for my ship,” Kirk told the other commander, visibly deflated.
“Yes, understood, but . . . what if we were to help?”
Kirk took a step closer to the viewer. “What do you mean?”
“N’Mi,” Laspas said, turning to his side to address his subordinate, just off camera. “Explain.”
Chief N’Mi stepped forward into view, blinking rapidly as she said, “Captain Kirk. I’ve studied your vessel’s exterior and have taken note of the damage done. Am I correct in assuming that it’s the damage to your nacelle support structure that has crippled your ship, and that the matter/antimatter reactor is still operational?”
Kirk turned to Scotty, who took a step forward and answered, “Aye, the warp core is running just fine.”
“Then I suggest that, if we were to reroute the warp plasma generated by your more powerful reactor to our spacewarp generators, we could create a sufficient subspace drive field to encompass both ships, and achieve a warp velocity high enough to get your vessel to Wezonvu in ten days.”
“Rerouting our warp plasma to your ship?” Scotty asked. “Then you’re talking about hard-docking both of our ships together, linking the two warp systems into one, and keeping them linked for the entire journey?”
The other engineer nodded. “Yes, precisely.”
Scotty realized that Kirk, as well as the rest of the bridge crew, were looking his way in expectation. “What even makes you think our systems would be compatible enough to pull off such a thing?” he asked N’Mi.
“To be honest, I have no idea if they are or they aren’t.”
“But, if there is a chance it could work,” Laspas said, “it would be worth investigating, wouldn’t it?”
As Scotty considered the feasibility of N’Mi’s idea, he began to feel the bubble of hope rise in his chest again. “Well, it would be a challenge, that’s for certain,” he said. But,
simply getting the Enterprise out of this system and away from the threat of further nystromite damage, whether accidental or malicious, would definitely make it worth the effort.
If the captain was as encouraged by the Domain crew’s offer of help as Scotty was, he hid it quite well. “Perhaps if you were to send a set of your ship’s full schematics for my chief engineer to review, so we can decide on the feasibility of such a plan.”
“Of course,” Laspas said. “And if you would do the same for Chief N’Mi. Let us know what you conclude as soon as you can, though; we’re scheduled to leave the system in two hours.”
The Goeg signed off, and once he did, Scotty moved up to Kirk’s side. “Sir? Are you not keen on the lass’s idea?”
The captain put up a hand to slow him down. “Let’s not put the cart before the horse, Scotty. Go back to engineering, look over the schematics for the other ship, and bring me your report in an hour.”
“Aye, sir,” Scotty said and headed for the turbolift, already considering the dozens of potential obstacles to the proposed undertaking, and formulating possible solutions to each of them.
* * *
Once Scotty had exited, Kirk turned and walked back to where Spock was still standing at the engineering station. “What’s your take on Laspas’s offer?”
“I believe your hesitation is warranted, sir. We would need to cede much of our control over the Enterprise to an unknown entity. While their offer of help does appear to be altruistic, we do not know what ulterior motives they may have.”
As usual, his first officer had summed up his concerns succinctly. And he was far from happy about it. “But, is it fair to assume that they do have ulterior motives? Couldn’t their altruistic offer of help be just that, nothing more?”
“It could be,” Spock answered. “But just as we cannot assume they harbor any ill intent toward us, it would be irresponsible to assume that they are being absolutely guileless.”
Star Trek: The Original Series: The Shocks of Adversity Page 6