by Sonni Cooper
"Oh, please, Spock! I've seen some of your better performances. The truth."
"If you insist," Spock replied with resignation. "This place does not represent Starfleet's finest. It was a slight altercation, nothing serious I assure you."
"And I should see the other guy, right?"
"Exactly."
"That's more like it. McCoy wants an update on your back."
"Getting stronger. The forced exercise seems to be helping."
"That's good …"
The guard interrupted. "Time's up, Captain Kirk."
Kirk went to the door with the guard. "Remember, Spock, if you need anything, anytime …"
The last look he had of Spock was of the Vulcan standing immobile, silent. The visit did not ease Kirk's mind.
Desus sat next to Spock in the prison cafeteria, aware of the Vulcan's lack of appetite.
"Why don't you eat, Spock? The food is not good, but it is nourishing," the Romulan said with concern.
"I prefer to fast," Spock answered. "Vulcans can go without food for extended periods… ."
"So can we Romulans, Spock. Our common ancient ancestors passed on rugged traits, but we Romulans can't go without food indefinitely and still work. And neither can you, for all of your pride."
Spock's silence was the only response.
"All right, I'll say no more about this. However, if I've noticed, others will. I believe you should ask for a less strenuous work assignment. You seem to be having difficulty with your back."
"An old injury," Spock explained. "It's almost entirely healed."
"You must have other qualifications which would be more useful here."
"They don't seem to need the services of a science officer, Desus, and they have their own staff computer experts."
"Understandably," the Romulan observed. "The entire place is computer-controlled. They wouldn't risk having a prisoner near any computer terminal on the planet."
The buzzer indicating the mealtime's end sounded, cutting their exchange short.
Before lights-out, Spock perched on his upper bunk trying to relax. He thought of Kirk's visit, wishing he'd never come. It was better not to have contact with him at this point. He lay down, shielding his eyes from the offending light with his arm, and stretched his muscles, trying to ease his fatigue. He could hear his cellmates move about, strip, and one by one retire before the lights dimmed. The cell block settled down and became quiet.
Spock was in that vague state between wakefulness and sleep when the bunk shuddered and he heard Bull get up. The large man's paw reached for his arm. Spock turned quickly, reaching for Bull's shoulder, but missed by just an inch as the giant of a man pulled him off the bunk.
"Please," Spock said, "I have no desire to hurt you. I have strength beyond your knowledge. It is unwise to provoke me."
In a surprising move, Bull suddenly backed away. There was hardly any time for Spock to react as Bull swiftly withdrew a knife from beneath his mattress. Desus came up behind the angry giant, preparing to strike him, when Harry Needham reached out and grabbed the Romulan's foot, sending him sprawling.
Bull slashed at Spock, cutting deeply into the flesh of the Vulcan's upper arm and bringing forth a gush of green. Spock, ignoring the injury, hit the large man with all of his might, throwing Bull against the bunk. He came up thrashing the knife in the air. Desus made another grab for him and was slashed in the chest with the point of the blade before he managed to get in a blow. Spock tossed a warning look at Harry, who wisely backed off. With what little strength was left him, Spock reached for Bull's shoulder, forcing his fingers into the precision nerve pinch that rendered the giant unconscious.
When the guards finally arrived, they found Spock standing in a corner with his right arm dangling limply and his left clasped tightly over his bleeding upper arm in an unsuccessful effort to staunch the flow of blood. They looked to Deus; the cut across his chest oozed green.
One guard, phaser in hand, gestured Spock out of the cell, while another prodded Desus. His phaser on heavy stun, one of the guards checked Bull, who was just regaining his senses. They escorted all three to the infirmary for treatment.
Doctor Lucas Freed was not pleased to be awakened for yet another medical emergency. He had been assigned to Minos three months earlier, straight out of Starfleet medical school. The few months he had spent on Minos had been tiresomely monotonous, with moments such as this night's emergency periodically relieving the boredom.
He knew why the service assigned doctors only one-year tours of duty on the prison planet. It was almost a form of punishment, but necessary, so the lower-ranking doctors took turns, loathing the assignment.
This night's emergency, however, proved to be exceptional. The passive bleeding Vulcan standing before him was a surprise, the Romulan another. He knew the aliens had been assigned to Minos, but being the only doctor in the facility and frightfully overworked, he was behind with his routine physical exams and had not seen either of them until now.
A quick examination of Bull assured the doctor that he was all right. While one of the guards escorted Bull to a high-security cell, Freed quickly assessed the other two patients' wounds, turning first to Spock's more serious injury. It was a very deep slash, almost to the bone. Freed draped a sterile cloth over the wound before beginning his surgical repair. He had never treated a Vulcan before, so he called up the appropriate computer records, hoping for additional information on Vulcan circulatory systems and trauma. The bleeding, disheveled man before him hardly fitted the descriptions he had read of the proud Vulcan race.
The doctor knew the wound had to be painful, but there was no sign of discomfort from Spock as he cleaned, repaired, and dressed his wound. Satisfied that it would heal well, and awed by his patient's tolerance for pain, he administered a series of shots to block the pain and fight infection, and then turned his attention to Desus.
"You two are really a pair," Freed said, swabbing the unfamiliar green blood from Desus' chest. "I never before treated a patient from either of your races, and here I have the two of you, both bleeding green all over my infirmary." Looking up to Spock, he commented, "I thought I read that Vulcans were dedicated to peace and nonviolence."
"We are," Spock assured him. "However, when provoked, we will defend ourselves from harm."
"Not always successfully," Freed observed, continuing to minister to Desus.
Spock preferred not to address himself to that last statement. He was becoming woozy and leaned heavily on the wall for support.
"Shot taking effect?" Freed asked, coming over and offering a hand. "Let's get you to bed."
He led the Vulcan into the ward, helping him onto a bed. A guard took Desus' arm and guided him to the bed next to Spock's. "They'll both be out until well past morning roll call," Freed told the guard. "Account for them on the sick list for the next day or so."
Spock awoke late into the morning, with the throbbing in his arm reminding him of the unpleasant events of the previous night. He had no intention of moving from the bed in the infirmary until he had to. He looked over to the next bed and saw Desus smiling at him.
"You've slept long," the Romulan said. "I was concerned."
"You saved my life last night, Desus."
"I know you would have done no less for me, Spock. We are truly brothers in blood now."
"Yes," Spock agreed. "There does seem to be a bond of sorts between us, forged by shared adversity… ."
"You seem disturbed."
"No, not disturbed." Spock lapsed into thought. What he truly was was confused.
The Romulan and he had become friends very quickly, more quickly than he would have believed possible. He had not considered the possibility of new friendships developing during this ordeal at all. Although brought together by a common enemy in Bull, Spock believed that was not the main factor in their friendship. He had never allowed close personal relationships except for his friendship with Kirk. But he realized that he felt entirely comfortabl
e with Desus. Their physiology was much the same; they were, in evolutionary terms, cousins of a sort. He had never felt that he entirely fit in with the mostly human crew on the Enterprise, since he favored his father's race in both his physical appearance and in his personal philosophy. With Desus, no explanations or accommodations seemed necessary.
Spock looked over at the Romulan, realizing he had found a balance for his Vulcan side. Just as Jim Kirk has been for my human half. He was somehow reassured but also vaguely disturbed. These are emotions I should not be allowing myself to experience; they could detract from the successful realization of my plans.
He felt disoriented. The aftereffects of the drug, he thought, trying to shake off his light-headedness.
"Dizzy?" Freed's voice broke through the fog.
"Yes. It must be the medication."
Sounding much like McCoy, Freed responded tartly, "If you lie there and behave yourself, the dizziness will pass more quickly." Examining Spock's wound, Freed redressed it and left without another word.
"He is right, you know," Desus said. "I have discovered it's best to cooperate with them."
Spock looked around the room and spotted a receiver. He began to rise when Desus took the initiative.
"Stay there. My wound is less painful." The Romulan left his bed and approached Spock, knowing he wanted to talk privately.
In a low murmur, Spock conferred with his new ally. "I have no intention of staying here much longer, Desus. I have every intention of leaving—and soon."
"Escape? I have given that prospect some thought myself, but I found no way," the Romulan whispered. "And I have looked carefully and have had more time and opportunity than you have had."
"I have an advantage, Desus. I know Starfleet procedures and codes. If I had an opportunity to get access to the computer, there would be no problem."
"What about a ship? They keep none here."
"There is one. The warden's cruiser. He is due to leave for a conference on Starbase 3 tomorrow."
"How do you know that?"
"My rather acute Vulcan auditory sense. I overheard a guard."
"Why are you telling me this?" the Romulan asked suspiciously.
"Because, Desus, there is at least a racial affinity between us, and your assistance would be invaluable. Will you come with me?"
"Of course …" Desus stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Freed, carrying a breakfast tray laden with fresh fruit, come into the ward.
"Try this, Spock," the doctor said cheerfully. "I think you'll find the fruit more to your liking than the usual prison fare."
It was a generous gesture and fully appreciated. Studying the fruit on the tray, Spock picked up a banana and started peeling it. Finishing the banana, he left the remainder of the fruit on the tray untouched.
"Is that all you want?" Freed asked. "Don't you want another piece?"
"You are a younger version of another Starfleet physician, Doctor. I do not require a great deal of nourishment. Do not concern yourself with my diet. I will not starve."
"Let me take a look at that cut." Freed gestured Desus back to his bed. He checked the wound, and satisfied it was healing well, he left them alone again.
"It must be tonight," Spock said, continuing their interrupted conversation.
"So soon?"
"The cruiser is here. We have no idea how long it will be available. The security in the infirmary is light. What better opportunity would we have? What would we gain by delaying? The sooner we go, the less time for suspicion to arise. I do not intend to be the target of sadistic misfits again."
"Where do you plan to go?"
"That is the one problem I have not solved. I cannot return to Vulcan or, for that matter, any Federation ally. Possibly you have a suggestion …"
"I think I have a solution. I am with you, Spock. I have been here far too long already. Trust me, and you will have a safe haven."
"I do trust you, Desus. My past allegiances are by necessity forfeit."
3
In the underground living environment of Minos it was hard to tell night from day, but, as on the starship, a night cycle was established artificially. Spock waited for the lights to dim before setting his plan into motion.
Freed's office was dark, and the guards expected nothing. He motioned Desus to be quiet and went to the door to check the guards. There were two, laughing over a shared joke. Putting his hands to the door, he focused his thoughts on the guards' minds on the other side of it. The distance and lack of actual physical contact made it difficult to reach them and he concentrated ever harder. Check the prisoners in the ward, his projected thoughts suggested. Check the prisoners!
Desus watched Spock's every move, and came up close behind the Vulcan.
The Vulcan's fingers gripped the doorjamb so tightly that the Romulan could see a dent in the metal. Again, Spock's mind reached for the guards. Check the prisoners in the ward. . . .
The laughing stopped. "Joe, I just got the funniest feeling," one guard said, shaking his buzzing head.
"Me, too. Think they're up to something in there?"
"Let's check them out."
Spock motioned Desus to the other side of the door. The Romulan swiftly took his place, waiting. The guards, with phasers set on heavy stun, opened the door carefully. The first one went through the doorway and looked about, signaling his companion to wait. He took another step into the room; Spock's hand gripped his neck, and he knew nothing more. Desus quickly dispatched the second guard.
Spock hastened into Freed's office, sat down at the computer terminal, and punched into the security system with practiced ease.
"Just as I thought," he told Desus, "customary Starfleet coding." He selected a computer tape from Freed's medical file, inserted it into the computer, and changed its programming. "This will foul up the system for a sufficient time, I think," Spock reported with satisfaction. He activated the tape; the computer beeped and then went dark.
Threading their way down the corridors, the Vulcan and the Romulan narrowly missed bumping into a patrolling guard. When they reached the docking bay, there were two more guards to confront. Desus aimed the phaser he had taken from one of the guards in the infirmary.
"On heavy stun," Spock ordered, seeing that the phaser was set to kill. "I want no blood on my conscience."
"There are essential differences in our philosophy, Spock," Desus commented, changing the phaser setting as he spoke. He adjusted the phaser for wide dispersal and fired, stunning the guards instantly.
"Don't touch the door," Spock warned. "There's a backup alarm." He pushed open a panel and deactivated it. "Now!"
They rushed into the docking bay, surprising the guard at the cruiser's door. Desus fired; the guard went down, and the alarm sounded.
"He hit the alarm button before I could fire," Desus shouted.
"Too late to worry about it," Spock called, entering the ship. "Let's get out of here—fast!"
A phaser blast ripped into the portal, tearing into the sheathing. Spock reeled back. The door closed, Desus put the cruiser on highest thrust, and they sped away, barely squeezing through the alarm-activated docking bay portals into the planet's atmosphere.
"Are you all right?" Desus called.
"Yes," Spock replied, catching his breath. "There will be a pursuit effort immediately. They can follow our ion trail."
"Not if we're immobile," Desus said, veering the ship from its straight course. "This is familiar territory," he explained. "The main shipping routes are concentrated in this sector. Naturally, a pirate …"
Spock completed Desus' statement. "… would know the area well."
"Very well." Desus pointed to a dot on the view-screen. "There is where we're headed. We'll drop to the other side of that small planet and wait. They'll be expecting us to make a complete run for it, not to stop here."
"I suspect you have done this before," Spock commented.
"Many times, and it always works," Desus said confidently. "You ha
ve a lot to learn about being devious, Spock."
"I have apparently found a master to teach me."
Putting his hand to Spock's shoulder and smiling wryly, Desus replied, "And I can tell that you and I are going to make a superlative team."
Chapter VII
Corsair
1
With the ease obtained from long experience, Desus dodged the pursuing Starfleet vessels and brought the warden's cruiser to a hidden planet in a remote sector.
Welcome to Corsair, Spock," the pirate beamed.
"I find the similarity of this star system to another disquieting, Desus. It also had a planet located between a red giant and a white dwarf. This planet of yours seems to be in a more favorable orbit than the one I am referring to, but the similarities far outweigh the differences. Are you aware of the planet Tomarii?"
"Yes, inhabitants of that planet have intruded upon our ventures occasionally."
They set do on a well-maintained landing pad. Shielding his eyes, Spock looked up to the huge red sun. The Tomariians again, Spock thought. I may be able to accomplish more than I thought.
Given the freedom of the planet with Desus' endorsement, Spock set about exploring his new environment. Each pirate compound remained essentially an armed independent unit. His arrival was noticed, but most of the inhabitants of the pirates' lair avoided contact with him at first—trust was not easily won on Corsair.
Life on the planet was very pleasant. Its climate was moderate, but Corsair's fortunate position relative to its sun was not its only grace.
The Romulan community to which Desus introduced him made him feel at home. The inhabitants were so much like him, it was disconcerting after his long experience as the only Vulcan in an all-Terran crew. Spock felt completely healed for the first time since the explosion on the Enterprise.
His frequent solitary walks provided him with opportunities to study the pirates' mode of operation. He observed and stored the information in his tremendous memory. Arriving home from his afternoon walk shortly after his arrival, Spock found a note on the table in his quarters. In a careless scrawl the invitation read: Come, join me at dinner. Sunset. Captain Astro.