Foul Deeds Will Rise

by Greg Cox

  So much for a fair trial, Kirk thought. Clearly, Lenore had already been judged guilty, at least as far as W’Osoro and his fellow protesters were concerned. Realizing that any lectures on due process and the presumption of innocence would likely fall on deaf ears, Kirk tried another tack.

  “How do we know the hostages are safe? Let us see and talk to them before we go any further.”

  Kirk wasn’t simply stalling for time. He was genuinely anxious to find out whether Tamris or any of her people had been harmed. Damn it, he thought. I should have evacuated them when I had the chance!

  “Do not fear for the hostages,” W’Osoro said. “Rest assured that they are safer with us than A’Barra was upon your deathtrap of a vessel.” He leaned forward, filling the viewer. “Understand me, Kirk, we have no grudge against the hostages nor any desire to harm them. But they will not be released until A’Barra’s killer is in Oyolu hands.”

  Kirk took some comfort from the other man’s words, but he knew that he couldn’t necessarily count on the Oyolu’s promises to keep Tamris and the others safe. This was a volatile situation and passions were running high. Things could easily go south in a hurry, with deadly consequences for the hostages. The sooner he got them out of there, the better.

  “Let’s talk about this,” Riley said, adopting a diplomatic tone. “Perhaps if you were to release some of the hostages, as a show of good faith . . .”

  “There is nothing to discuss,” W’Osoro declared. “This is not a negotiation. You will give us Karidian . . . or the hostages will remain our prisoners for as long as it takes.”

  Lenore stepped forward, perhaps intending to sacrifice herself, but Lieutenant Banks restrained her. An agonized expression betrayed Lenore’s dismay and anxiety, unless, of course, it was simply another brilliantly convincing performance.

  “It’s not that simple,” Kirk protested, speaking up before Lenore could. “Be reasonable. Is this what Minister A’Barra would have wanted? There must be some compromise—”

  “Do not presume to tell us what the Defender wanted!” W’Osoro snarled. “His martyred spirit cries out for vengeance. We will not be denied!”

  The transmission ended abruptly. The empty void of the buffer zone replaced W’Osoro upon the viewscreen.

  “Uhura!” Kirk said. “Get him back if you can.”

  “I’m trying, Captain. But he’s not responding to our hails.”

  I was afraid of that, Kirk thought. Not that we were making much progress anyway.

  “Guess he meant what he said about not wanting to talk,” McCoy said. “Honestly, he didn’t exactly strike me as the most reasonable of fellows.”

  “That was my impression, too,” Riley said, “which doesn’t bode well for negotiating the hostages’ release.”

  “Please,” Lenore said, “just give me to them. My life’s not worth risking so many others for. And this isn’t just about Doctor Tamris and the other volunteers. What about all the suffering refugees in the camp and medical center? Who is taking care of them while this is going on?”

  Kirk feared that ship had sailed. Even if the protesters released their prisoners, he wasn’t sure it would be safe for the GRC to resume its relief efforts on the planet. The twin assassinations had brought the hot zone to a boil on both worlds.

  “It’s not that simple,” Riley said, perhaps a tad regretfully. “It’s against policy for Starfleet to surrender to terrorist demands. Handing you over under these circumstances, no matter how tempting that might be, would encourage similar incidents and endanger Federation citizens throughout the galaxy.” He looked at Lenore as though she was a mine he couldn’t step off without detonating. “And don’t forget: The Pavakians also want to get their hands on you—for the murder of General Tem—which complicates matters further.”

  “I am gratified that you remember that, Ambassador,” Colonel Gast stated. Gripping the safety rail on the port side of the bridge, she peered across at Lenore. Red-rimmed eyes betrayed the strain she was under. “Our claim on the suspect is equally pressing and no less important to us, even if we would hardly resort to such blatant terrorist tactics.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “But what else can one expect of the anarchic hordes of Oyolo?”

  Ifusi predictably took the bait. “Take care, Pavakian . . .”

  “That’s enough,” Kirk ordered, even as Chekov’s security team tensed for action. “I remind you both that you’re here as a courtesy, and in the hopes that we can work out a peaceful solution to the present crisis. Save your bickering for some time when no innocent lives are at stake.”

  “Of course, Captain,” Gast said. “I merely meant to assure you that you need not fear a similar incident on Pavak. Your personnel are safely under the protection of the Pavakian military.”

  Which makes Spock and Scotty potential hostages as well, Kirk noted, unsure how exactly to take Gast’s remark. That his friends remained on Pavak, investigating the missing warhead, only added to Kirk’s worries. Was that supposed to be genuinely reassuring . . . or a veiled threat?

  This ambiguity was not lost on Ifusi. “One is hardly ‘safe’ in the custody of Pavakians,” he said mockingly. “As my people know too well. They’ve spent decades crushing our liberties in the name of ‘protecting’ us from the violence they provoked. If I were you, Captain Kirk, I’d worry more about your men on Pavak than the unfortunate hostages on Oyolo!”

  Kirk tried to head off another airing of old grievances. He looked to Ifusi. “What is your take on the protesters and their demands?”

  “I confess to having mixed emotions regarding this matter,” the Oyolu said. “I too crave justice for A’Barra, but not at the expense of innocents. That the GRC has done much good for my people cannot be denied; it pains me that they have been caught up in this conflict.”

  “And what of your government?” Kirk asked. “Can’t they intervene on behalf of the hostages?”

  “Their hands are tied, I’m afraid.” Ifusi sounded faintly embarrassed by this admission. “Although the capture of the relief workers was not authorized by my government, the protesters have many sympathizers among the people, our armed forces, and even high-ranking elements of our leadership. In addition, the loss of A’Barra has left a vacuum at the top of our government, which various factions are now vying to fill. With the new administration in flux, no one in authority is going to defy the protesters for the sake of a handful of outworlders, whom many deem guilty by association. It is a pity, but freeing the hostages is not good politics at present.”

  “I see,” Kirk said. He had to wonder just how “unauthorized” the attack on the camp had been. Had it truly been a spontaneous uprising, catching the distracted Oyolu government by surprise, or had certain authorities instigated the crisis while carefully looking the other way? In any event, it seemed that they could not count on the Oyolu government to rescue Tamris and the others. “And if we were to attempt to liberate the hostages by force?”

  Ifusi answered carefully. “It would be better if I were unaware of such things.”

  “I understand,” Kirk said, appreciating the delicate position the Oyolu was in. Plausible deniability, it seemed, went both ways. He rose from his seat to address the delegates. “Colonel Gast, Mister Ifusi, I thank you for your input. Despite our differences, I’m sure we’re united in our desire to resolve this situation in a peaceful manner. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to confer with my staff in private. If you could kindly return to your quarters.”

  Security personnel escorted the delegates toward the rear of the bridge. Kirk was grateful that this Enterprise had both port and starboard turbolifts on the bridge so that Gast and Ifusi could exit via separate lifts. Gast paused before entering the port turbolift.

  “I remind you, Captain, Ambassador, that Pavak will not look kindly on an attempt to appease the Oyolu terrorists by exchanging the suspect for the hostages.” Icy
brown eyes locked onto Lenore. “Pavak may not be governed by an unruly mob, as is Oyolo, but we expect justice as well.”

  “Point taken, Colonel.” Kirk worried again about Spock and Scotty and their safety on Pavak. “Believe me, we have no intention of playing favorites here.”

  “I will hold you to that, Captain,” she said. “Although, to be fair, it does seem as though Pavakians and Oyolu have equal opportunity to be murdered aboard this vessel. That’s something, I suppose.”

  She exited without another word, giving Kirk no opportunity to reply. Not that there was much he could say to refute her charge. Gast had every reason to be displeased with what had transpired on the Enterprise since her arrival. They were going to have a lot of diplomatic damage control to do if and when the current crises were over. For now, however, rescuing the hostages had to take priority.

  “I suppose you want to return me to my quarters as well,” Lenore said after the delegates had departed. She began to make her way toward the turbolifts, accompanied by the security officers keeping tabs on her. “Exit stage left.”

  Kirk shook his head. “Actually, I’d prefer if you remained on the bridge for the time being.”

  This elicited puzzled looks from both Lenore and Riley. The latter scowled at Kirk, already primed to protest this latest offense. His voice held a tone of warning.

  “Captain?”

  “Miss Karidian knows the hostages and the location they are being held at better than anyone else aboard,” Kirk explained. “That inside information could prove extremely valuable.”

  “Of course,” she volunteered. “If there’s anything I can do.”

  Riley emitted a bitter chuckle. “Chances are, you’ve already done more than enough.”

  Lenore retreated from his withering tone. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Let’s focus on the task at hand,” Kirk said. Determining Lenore’s guilt or innocence could come later; at the moment, they needed to concentrate on the hostage crisis. He raised his voice to address the entire bridge. “Talk to me, people. I need options.”

  Riley stared at the starry blackness upon the viewscreen. “I just wish we could’ve gotten a glimpse of the hostages, to check on their conditions.”

  “I may be able to help you there,” Uhura said. “It took some effort, but I’ve managed to tap into some communications and weather-monitoring satellites in orbit around Oyolo, not to mention some illegal Pavakian spy satellites. I’ve also managed to trace W’Osoro’s transmission back to its source in order to get a lock on the arena where the hostages are being held. Give me just another moment and I think I can provide us with some eyes in the sky.”

  “Good thinking, Commander,” Kirk said. He recalled that Scotty had pulled off a similar trick decades ago in order to spy on a twentieth-century rocket base in Florida, during their first run-in with Gary Seven back in 1968. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Uhura worked her magic and within moments an aerial view of the amphitheater and the ruined parklands appeared on the main viewer, unobstructed by the transparent force field over the arena. At first, the surveillance was from too high up to make out any crucial details, but she zoomed in on the site until they seemed to be looking down on it from less than fifty meters above the stage. Lenore gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth as the hostages and their captors came into view.

  Tamris and approximately fourteen relief workers, including the Horta, huddled together in the center of the stage, surrounded by scowling Oyolu bearing disruptor rifles, pistols, and other weapons. The guards’ worn civilian clothing testified to the unofficial status of the armed protesters, many of whom looked as though they had been drawn from the ranks of the refugees themselves. Kirk was relieved to see that the hostages appeared more or less unharmed, although they were obviously frightened and uncomfortable. He recalled the hot, humid climate he’d experienced before and felt an extra twinge of sympathy for the sweaty, miserable-looking hostages. By his calculations, it was midafternoon in that time zone.

  Could be worse, he thought. At least it’s not fall or winter in that region.

  He had no intention of letting them stay captive long enough to see the seasons change.

  “I don’t understand,” Chekov said. “How are they holding the Horta hostage? Couldn’t he just burrow out of there if he wanted to?”

  As Kirk knew from experience, sustained phaser fire could eventually penetrate a Horta’s rocky, all-but-indestructible carapace, but Chekov was right in assuming that the Horta could probably make his escape before sustaining any serious injuries. All he’d have to do would be to bore straight down and deep below the planet’s crust.

  “He’s probably concerned with the safety of his friends and colleagues,” Kirk guessed. “The protesters may have threatened to harm the other hostages if he didn’t cooperate.”

  “Absolutely,” Lenore said. “Jorgaht would never abandon the others, or risk them being punished for his escape.”

  Kirk trusted her assessment of her colleague. He had yet to meet a Horta who was not a model of integrity. They had a truly admirable culture that produced many remarkable individuals.

  “This is obscene,” McCoy said, understandably offended by the distressing scene of the viewer. “Those people have dedicated their lives to helping strangers. They don’t deserve to be treated like bargaining chips.” Indignation mixed with compassion on his careworn countenance. “We can’t just sit here and let them be held captive by an armed mob. We have to do something!”

  “I quite agree, Doctor,” Kirk said. “The only question is what.”

  “We could try the direct approach,” Chekov suggested. “I’m betting the Enterprise’s phasers could easily overpower that theater’s rudimentary force field. Then we just beam in a tactical team—or lock onto the hostages directly.”

  “I wish it were that easy,” Kirk said, assessing the situation. “But we don’t know how long it would take to knock out the force field, and the protesters might take action against the hostages before we could remove them from jeopardy. More importantly, we’re not within transporter range of Oyolo, which means we’d have to leave the buffer zone and proceed to Oyolo before we could launch an assault on the force field, which might also alert the protesters to our intentions. They could easily harm or move the hostages before we got into position.”

  “Forget it,” Riley said, shaking his head. “Departing the buffer zone and going into orbit around Oyolo is simply not an option, diplomatically. That would be a deliberate incursion into Oyolu space and a clear violation of the terms of our peacekeeping mission.”

  The captain had to agree. “It’s vital that we rescue the hostages, but we have to keep one eye on the big picture as well. We’re here to stop a war, not start one.”

  Sulu sighed. “So I guess that rules out knocking out the whole vicinity with a wide-dispersal phaser blast, like we did that time on Iotia?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Riley said. “Even if we could get within firing range of Oyolo, I absolutely cannot sanction a Federation starship launching a phaser attack on the planet. There’s no way the regrouping coalition government on Oyolo could regard that as anything except a brazen act of war.”

  “What about the Oyolu government?” Kirk asked. “Is what Ifusi said true, that we cannot expect them to rein in the protesters or take action to free the hostages?”

  “That’s a fair assessment,” Riley confirmed. “According to my sources, there’s a lot of support for the protesters, overt or otherwise, at every level of government, from global to municipal. Speaking frankly, we cannot trust the Oyolu authorities with whatever we’re planning. They’re just as likely to tip off the protesters as cooperate with us on any rescue operation.”

  “So we’re on our own,” Kirk said, “and sending in the Enterprise is off-limits.”

 
Riley nodded. “That’s the long and the short of it, yes.”

  “Then we’re talking about a fast, surgical strike,” Kirk said. “Get in, get the hostages, and get out, preferably without any serious casualties on either side.” He looked at Riley. “That work for you, Ambassador?”

  “The Oyolu government will doubtless protest any unilateral raid on their planet, but this may be a case where it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He smiled wryly at Kirk. “A strategy I learned from you, Captain, back in the day.”

  Kirk recalled his occasional bouts of insubordination, always for the best of reasons, of course. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ambassador.”

  Riley tactfully refrained from citing chapter and verse.

  “If you are going to stage a rescue mission, Captain, I’d like to volunteer to take part.” Riley squared his shoulders. “I know it’s been a few years—more than a few, really—since I’ve had any combat duty, but—”

  “I appreciate the offer, Ambassador, but no dice.” Kirk had no doubts regarding Riley’s abilities; as a Starfleet officer, Lieutenant Riley had proved himself on any number of landing parties in the past, but Kirk still shook his head. “You’re too valuable to risk. The hostages are important, but so is our larger mission. We’re going to need you to smooth things over if everything goes as planned . . . and even more so if it doesn’t.”

  Riley grudgingly conceded the point. “There is that, I suppose.”

  “In fact,” Kirk suggested, “maybe it would be more politic if you stepped outside as well. Plausible deniability and all that.”

  “Not a chance,” Riley said firmly. He stared intently at the hostages on the screen. “Diplomacy has its limits. I’ll stay behind, but I won’t be kept in the dark.”

  “Fair enough,” Kirk said. “Now we just need to settle on a plan, pronto.”